Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

The banquet in the east courtyard officially began.

Xu Damao raised his glass: "Come on! Let's have our first toast to congratulate Da Biao and Liu Gen on their graduation. They've officially joined the government's work! From now on, Da Biao will be a creator at the People's Fine Arts Publishing House, and Liu Gen will be a history teacher at Red Star Primary School. They're both cultured people."

"Yes! Cheers!" Liu Guangqi chimed in.

Everyone toasted and drank, creating a lively atmosphere.

After several rounds of drinks and several dishes, Liu Guangqi, his cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol, put down his glass, leaned close to Zhang Dabiao, lowered his voice, and said mysteriously, "Dabiao, I have some inside information for you."

"Oh?" Zhang Dabiao picked up a piece of fish with his chopsticks and looked at him with interest.

"I heard from my superiors that the National Congress of Literary and Art Workers will be held in Beiping next month. During the congress, a national art exhibition will also be held." Liu Guangqi paused here, deliberately keeping everyone in suspense.

Xu Damao urged impatiently, "Guangqi, why are you talking so slowly, like you're squeezing toothpaste? Just say it!"

Liu Guangqi chuckled and continued, "I heard that the China Artists Association borrowed your original manuscript of 'Nezha Conquers the Dragon King' for this art exhibition, intending to promote it as a key example!"

"Why?" Sha Zhu asked curiously from the side.

"Why?" Liu Guangqi puffed out his chest proudly. "Because Da Biao's comic book is selling like hotcakes overseas! It's earned the country so much foreign exchange! The leaders of the Artists Association said he's a role model for young literary and artistic creators in the new era, a paragon of bringing glory to the country! They're planning to hold a special seminar during the National Congress of Literary and Art Circles, and they'll also publish articles in the newspapers, calling on literary and artistic workers across the country to learn from Comrade Zhang Da Biao!"

Upon hearing this, everyone at the table fell silent.

Even Sha Zhu understood the weight of those words.

This isn't just about becoming famous in a courtyard house or Nanluoguxiang; it's about to become famous nationwide!

But thinking about it a little—

Zhang Dabiao seems to have become famous throughout the country several times already. Is he trying to make a living from one article?

"My goodness!" Xu Damao gasped, looking at Zhang Dabiao with a completely different expression. "Dabiao, you...you're going to be a big shot someday?"

Mu Wanqing's face flushed with excitement as she tightly grasped Zhang Dabiao's hand, her eyes sparkling with pride.

Qin Jingru and He Yushui also looked at him with admiration, feeling that their Da Biao was simply omnipotent.

Zhang Dabiao himself remained relatively calm; he simply smiled and raised his glass.

"Come on, enough of that, it's all empty fame. Let's drink and eat!"

Everyone raised their glasses again, and so did everyone else—

No matter how awesome Zhang Dabiao is, he's still their brother.

You need to get used to it sooner rather than later.

------------

A few days later, the news brought by Liu Guangqi was confirmed.

The People's Daily's culture section published a lengthy report on the follow-up results of the "First National Comic Strip Creation Award".

In the article, the leaders of the All-China Federation of Fine Arts Workers highly praised the outstanding comic strip works that emerged in the past year, and Zhang Dabiao's name was placed in the most prominent position.

The report praised his work "Nezha Conquers the Dragon King," noting its widespread popularity domestically but also its unprecedented success in overseas markets, earning valuable foreign exchange for the country. He was hailed as an outstanding representative of "art serving national development." The article concluded by praising him as "the foremost young comic strip creator of the new era," elevating his work to the level of "showcasing the cultural confidence of the new China to the world."

Early that morning, Yan Bugui took the newspaper that the postman had just delivered and sat on a rattan chair in the yard, reading it word by word.

When he read the words "the first young creator", he felt a wave of dizziness and almost fainted.

His hand holding the newspaper trembled like an autumn leaf in the wind. The black words on the white paper seemed to carry a scorching heat, burning his fingertips.

Jealousy, like a venomous snake, gnawed at his heart.

Why? Why is it that this good-for-nothing kid, who gave up his ninety-yuan deputy section chief position to draw comic books, can receive such a high honor?

Where can I go to seek justice?

He dedicated his life to teaching and nurturing students, considering himself a cultured man, yet in the end, he couldn't even get a spot on the margins of a newspaper. But Zhang Dabiao, a mere young man, became a national role model, the first of his kind!

Yan Bugui grew angrier and angrier, until he finally threw the newspaper on the ground, clutched his chest, and gasped for breath.

This caused an uproar throughout the entire courtyard.

The newspaper circulated around the courtyard, and everyone was stunned by the news.

Liu Haizhong took the newspaper, read it three times, and finally silently returned it to Yan Bugui without saying a word. He turned around and went back into the house. He knew that he was not qualified to act like an old man in front of Zhang Dabiao; Zhang Dabiao's status had long been beyond his reach.

Yi Zhonghai didn't even take the newspaper; he just glanced at the headline from afar, then lowered his head and went into the workshop, barely saying a word all day. He completely gave up any thoughts of competing with Zhang Dabiao, and from now on, he would simply avoid him whenever they met.

However, Jia Zhangshi's reaction was completely different from everyone else's.

She snatched the newspaper and made Banggeng read it to her. After listening, instead of being afraid, she slapped her thigh and her eyes gleamed with greed.

"Did you hear that! Banggeng! He's the first! He's a national celebrity!" Jia Zhangshi excitedly grabbed Banggeng's arm. "The more famous he becomes, the richer he'll be! Our good days are just around the corner!"

"Why should I?" Banggeng asked, puzzled.

"Why should I? Because I'm his third aunt!" Madam Jia puffed out her chest defiantly. "He's my nephew! Now that he's successful, do you think he won't take care of us, a widow and her children? If he doesn't give it to us, I'll cause a scene at the newspaper, at the Artists Association, and see where he puts his 'number one' face!"

In Jia Zhangshi's logic, all of Zhang Dabiao's glory rightfully belonged to the Jia family.

Zhang Dabiao didn't care about any of this from the outside world.

Go ahead and try making a scene if you dare.

I've been worried about having nothing to do lately.

------------

He thrived at the People's Fine Arts Publishing House. The leaders there treated him with great courtesy, and several national treasure-level comic strip masters held him in high regard, often pulling him aside to discuss techniques.

His daily work consisted of drinking tea, reading books, drawing a few pictures for Master Dang's assistant according to the requirements of the organization, or compiling manuscripts and reviewing them. That was considered completing his task.

He already has two national-level awards, so now he should lay low for a while, not stand out too much, and just follow the masters and learn from them.

The work was incredibly easy, yet the royalties and various subsidies remained plentiful, making life extremely comfortable.

That afternoon, the weather was just right, neither too hot nor too cold.

Zhang Dabiao set up a drawing board under the grape trellis in the east courtyard and was leisurely sketching out the draft for his next comic book.

Mu Wanqing sat to the side, holding a palm-leaf fan, quietly fanning him. The breeze ruffled her hair, and the scene was as beautiful as a painting.

In the kitchen, Qin Jingru hummed a little tune as she prepared ingredients for dinner. The clattering of pots and pans filled the air with the warmth of daily life.

The years are quiet and the world is stable.

Just then, the sound of a car engine suddenly came from the alley entrance, growing louder as it approached, culminating in a clear screech of brakes.

The sound seemed particularly abrupt in the quiet afternoon.

Immediately afterwards, a green GAZ-90 pulled up in front of the courtyard house. Several large, eye-catching characters were printed on the car door—

Changchun Film Studio.