1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 630 Who said that?
The plane arrived in New York.

To be honest, Jiang Xian didn't have much of an admiration for New York. After all, he had been there a few times, and the lingering smell of urine on the streets had dispelled his fascination.

However, it must be acknowledged that New York City's level of development far surpasses that of other cities around the world in this era.

There's a saying that goes, "The scariest thing isn't that someone says New York is the world's number one city, but that when someone mentions the world's number one city, you immediately think of New York."

Jiang Xian first visited the headquarters of "Today Film Company," a subsidiary of "Today," located on the 22nd floor of an office building next to Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, New York.

"The company now has three business divisions."

Zhong Acheng introduced himself to Jiang Xian. He had gained a lot of weight. He used to be sloppy and would even throw away his own sandals when he was in China, but now he looked more like an elite when he wore a suit.

"Today's Pictures is primarily responsible for overseeing the production and distribution of films."

Today's media networks are responsible for overseeing pay-TV channels.

"And today's global distribution, which is mainly responsible for global content distribution."

"."

Jiang Xian walked slowly to the floor-to-ceiling window, glanced outside, and saw the dazzling Manhattan skyline, the towering skyscrapers, the brightly lit Times Square, the crisscrossing elevated highways, and the endless stream of vehicles.
"That area to the east is Central Park," Zhong Acheng explained to Jiang Xian, pointing out the landmarks outside. "That's Wall Street, and that's Broadway."

"Did you bring the person?" Jiang Xian turned around and asked.

"On the way, should be here soon," Zhong Acheng said, glancing at his watch.

As soon as the two finished speaking, a familiar figure emerged from under the door. It was none other than Feng Xiaogang, wearing a faded red hoodie and tattered jeans.

He walked in dazedly, saw Jiang Xian's figure, and stopped as if his feet were nailed to the ground. Then, he composed himself, immediately appearing sad, his eyes reddening, and his throat choked with emotion.

"Boss!"

Then Jiang Xian witnessed the award-winning actor's phenomenal acting skills. His legs went weak, and he collapsed to the floor, wailing and squeezing out tears.
"I... I thought I would never see you again!"

You have no idea how much I miss you!

"I had a terrible time in America! I lived a life worse than that of pigs and dogs!"

"."

Today, the employees stared at Feng Xiaogang as if he were a giant panda, while Jiang Xian remained indifferent and unmoved.

"Let me tell you, I'm short on time. My schedule is all set for today, and I only have this short break to see you."

Cry? Crying also takes time.

"Ouch, I...I..."

Feng Xiaogang quickly wiped away his tears and snot with his sleeve, got up from the ground, and approached him with a fawning expression:
"Boss, I saw in the newspaper the other day that you won that American Oscar, the first person in history to do so. Wow, you truly are brilliant and powerful!"

"."

Seeing Jiang Xian staring at him coldly, Feng Xiaogang reluctantly shut his mouth and pulled a stack of manuscripts from his pocket:
"I've finished writing the script. Please take a look."

"If you had taken it out earlier, it wouldn't have been a problem."

Jiang Xian rolled her eyes and took the manuscript from his hand:

"If you love him, send him to New York, because it's paradise."

“If you hate him, send him to New York, because that’s hell.”

Well, before the plot even gets going, they just throw out this incredibly annoying "maxim" that's full of dialectical materialism.

If you ask Jiang Xian, Feng Xiaogang's script is indeed really good.

It seems this guy has truly learned a lot.

It's like dissecting the ribs of the "American Dream" with a scalpel, casually sprinkling some cumin on it, telling you that this dream smells good but is hard to chew, sending a shiver down the spines of countless compatriots dreaming of a green card, and making their anuses tighten:
Should I be loved or hated?
The story is about a man named Wang Qiming, a gentleman from Beijing, who is an outstanding cellist in China.

That's why he brought his cello to the United States, hoping to continue his profession there and make use of his expertise.

However, his "American Dream" was shattered almost from the very beginning.

After he and his wife landed in New York, their aunt, Guo Yan, who came to pick them up, took them to a dilapidated basement, left them $500, and then left.

For them, even the most basic living conditions were a luxury when they first arrived.

From shock and confusion to feeling wronged and humiliated, Guo Yan cried sadly.

This is actually a microcosm of the clash between Chinese and Western cultures.

In the eyes of her Westernized aunt, helping them with their procedures to come to the United States, picking them up from the airport and arranging their accommodation, lending them living expenses, and introducing Wang Qiming to work in a Chinese restaurant already exceeded Western standards of human kindness.

To mainlanders who grew up under the influence of Chinese culture, the aunt seemed too cold and materialistic, and it was as if she was deliberately provoking them, letting them experience the coldness of Western human relationships.

This is very real.

Once you get to the United States, the Chinese way of thinking doesn't work.

So, in order to make a living, Wang Qiming could no longer afford to touch the cello. Instead, he went straight to the greasy kitchen to rehearse a "symphony" with the plates and bowls.

This fall from grace is even more dramatic than going from a Michelin three-star restaurant to a pancake stand.

Then, as if by some strange twist of fate, Feng Xiaogang chimed in with a sigh:
"America is neither heaven nor hell, it's a fucking battlefield!"

Jiang Xian found it particularly amusing.

This sentence is not in the original work.

It's clear that Feng Xiaogang was indeed toughened up in the United States, and he summarized it in this sentence with deep understanding.

In short, the main storyline is Wang Qiming's struggle starting from the basement.

In just two or three years, he went from being a dishwasher in a Chinese restaurant to a garment factory owner worth millions, from a penniless poor boy to a wealthy Chinese businessman who had entered high society. His residence also changed from a dark basement to a mansion in Queens, New York.

However, his path to success was not honorable:

He first relied on his lover Ah Chun's financial support, and later on David, the second husband of his ex-wife Guo Yan.

In pursuit of "success," Wang Qiming resorted to any means necessary, betraying trust and even sacrificing the feelings and personal dignity of his friends and family.

Even so, due to the cyclical recession in the US economy, Wang Qiming suffered heavy losses in his real estate investments. In order to have enough liquidity, he made a desperate gamble in Atlantic City. However, his good luck ran out, and in the end, Wang Qiming lost everything.

Meanwhile, David and Guo Yan returned from their honeymoon to find that their former client had become Wang Qiming's, so they angrily kicked Guo Yan out of their house.

Faced with David's complaints and lack of understanding, Guo Yan chose to endure it, left David, and took a job as a cleaner at an American university as punishment for herself.

As for Wang Qiming's daughter, Ningning, who is in her adolescence, even though she lives in a big house that her parents earned after coming to the United States, she retaliates with an extremely subversive rebellion because she feels she lacks complete parental love in her broken family.

—The father who married her American boyfriend.

Finally, Feng Xiaogang wrote that Wang Qiming's gesture of extending the middle finger towards New York was a statement of his attitude towards New York, the United States, and this prosperous world of money.

At this point, almost everything he possessed was taken away: his dignity as an artist was snatched away by the realities of life.

His beloved wife was abducted by Americans.

His heart aches because his daughter has been taken away by Western culture.

Even his close friend, Da Li, struggled for many years in the United States to obtain a green card, but ultimately died in a tragic car accident.
The ending was extremely cruel.

Wang Qiming's American dream was also completely shattered.

"The story ends with Wang Qiming's funeral for his good friend Da Li. That's very well written, a double entendre, as it's both Da Li's funeral and the funeral of the 'American Dream'," Jiang Xian told Feng Xiaogang, pointing out some of the script's highlights.

"Oh, it's all thanks to your excellent teaching," Feng Xiaogang quickly said with a fawning expression.

“However,” Jiang Xuan paused, “the ending could have been written even better.”

"Oh, please enlighten me."

Look!

Jiang Xian pointed to the end, "Finally, here's another story about Wang Qiming's good friend from Beijing who came to the United States to stay with Wang Qiming in New York. Wang Qiming, who picked him up at the airport, acted like an aunt to him when he first came to the United States, taking his friend to the old, dilapidated basement where he first lived, and then leaving him with $500 before leaving."

At this moment, we witnessed a familiar scene: this friend was cursing Wang Qiming in the basement.

".wonderful!"

As Feng Xiaogang listened, his eyes suddenly lit up.

"Brilliant! Your idea is brilliant! This is another cycle! It's another sign that the 'American Dream' has been shattered before it even began. Oh dear, why don't you win an Oscar? Why can't I? I just can't! Look at your level, the gap between you and us lowly screenwriters is just too big. I'm downstairs, you're upstairs, no, I'm in the ground, you're in the sky."

That's enough.

Jiang Xian closed the manuscript in his hand. "Alright, take it back and revise it. It's best to revise it before returning to China so that we can start the team as soon as we get back. Let's make the most of our time."

"Am I going back to China?"

Feng Xiaogang caught the message in Jiang Xian's words, and tears almost welled up in his eyes.

"What? Don't you want to go back?"

"That can't be done!"

Feng Xiaogang quickly waved his hand, "I want to go back, I want to go back a million times over!"

"You dislike America that much?"

"dislike!"

Feng Xiaogang looked utterly disgusted. "You know, I feel uncomfortable even breathing for one more second here. I can't stand being here for even one minute longer."

"That's it."

Jiang Xian smiled and said, "I was thinking of having you take the crew back to the United States to film. If this happens, I'll have to find a different director."

"?"

Feng Xiaogang's smile froze. "Oh, boss, don't tease me. You have no idea how much I suffered and endured in America. Here, it's just..."

"Ox and horse," Jiang Xian suggested.

"Yep!"

Feng Xiaogang nodded quickly, then realized it wasn't quite right, "Worse than cattle or horses!"

"okay."

Jiang Xian stopped teasing him and patted him on the shoulder. "In short, you suffered in America, but as I said before, the suffering you endured for Haima won't be in vain."

Feng Xiaogang was also moved when he heard this. "I am completely satisfied with what you said. Don't worry, if I don't do a good job with this TV series, I will get out of Haima and won't be in your eyes."

"Alright! Then you've made a solemn pledge!" Jiang Xian smiled at him. "You've been in America for so long, and judging from your appearance, you probably haven't had a few peaceful days. I'm going to Iowa soon, so you'll stay in New York for the next few days to revise your manuscript. I've arranged your accommodation and everything else. Go take a good shower, buy some clothes, and get some gifts for your wife and kids to take back with you."

"Wife and children"

When Jiang Xian mentioned his family, Feng Xiaogang looked ashamed and asked, "How are my wife and the others?"

"Everything is fine, I'm just waiting to reunite with you."

"That's good."

Feng Xiaogang nodded somewhat absentmindedly, hesitated for a long time, and then stammered to Jiang Xian:

"Boss, I ran into someone else in New York this time."

"Who?"

“You know this person too? When we were looking for someone to act in ‘Stories from the Editorial Department,’ we auditioned her. She’s an actress from the Shanghai Film Studio, named Lü Liping. She’s in New York right now.”

"."

Upon hearing this name, Jiang Xian's smile gradually faded.

"Lü Liping? What? You two have become acquainted?"

"Yes."

Feng Xiaogang grinned, "Isn't it a coincidence? I was washing dishes at a local restaurant when I ran into her."

Jiang Xian frowned as he listened to Feng Xiaogang recount his encounter with Lü Liping—all of it wholesome and wholesome, of course. At the end, he heard Feng Xiaogang ask:
"You brought her to America, so she must be here to act in my TV series, right?"

"."

Jiang Xian didn't speak, but clasped his hands together, looking at Feng Xiaogang with a stern expression. After a long while, he finally uttered a sentence:
"Did I say that?"

"what?"

Feng Xiaogang's smile gradually faded, and he stammered, "This...this...I..."

"I have no interest in her affairs, nor do I want to. Why did you say that I sent this person to America? I don't know her at all, and I have no recollection of her. As for what you two did, whether you slept together or whatever, I don't want to care. In short, this person will not appear in my TV series, and I have never intended to. Do you understand?"

"I know, I know." Feng Xiaogang regretted it so much he wanted to slap himself. What was he thinking all day long?
I thought Lü Liping was one of Jiang Xian's key protégés.

So that's not what Jiang Xian meant at all!
Isn't this just completely misplaced flattery?

After meeting Feng Xiaogang, Jiang Xian, Zhu Lin, Zhu Hong, and Zhao Zhenkai boarded a plane to Iowa.

The last time I visited Iowa was several years ago, around the time the little prince was born.

One of the reasons I came here this time is to visit Ms. Nie Hualing and her husband.

Another thing to do is to look at "Today Publishing," a publishing house that, along with Today magazine, which has a very high circulation in the United States, is headquartered in Iowa City.

(End of this chapter)