Huayu 1999: Starting with nothing but getting something for nothing

The 10-hour journey on the old-fashioned green train made Yang Che question his existence, even though he had bought a soft sleeper ticket.

What frustrated him even more was that he had two different groups of fellow passengers along the way, both of whom were quite old, and none of them were the "helpers" he had imagined before boarding the train.

After all, in many martial arts novels, when the male protagonist is about to leave the mountain, there will always be a loyal helper who appears, a divine weapon that appears, or he might even save a beautiful girl and repay her with his body.

It's worth mentioning that Yang Che encountered an older woman with body odor who kindly shared fruit and beef jerky with him and even asked him what he did for a living and whether he had a girlfriend.

Yang Che said his son is already three years old.

The boring and long journey ended at 7:30 pm. After getting off the bus, Yang Che felt that his life had changed from a leisurely afternoon at a summer convenience store to a rapidly developing global information network.

Beijing West Railway Station is new and very clean.

As I exited the station, I could still see a banner that read, "If you have any problems, find 036." I couldn't help but smile; it was waiting room 036, after all, and the staff there were indeed very welcoming.

Queuing for the bus.

Yang Che was quite surprised to find that the taxi waiting area at Beijing West Railway Station was filled with red Xiali and Fukang cars, and there were no yellow taxis at all.

Fifteen minutes later, Yang Che, pulling his suitcase, walked around the Xiali in front of him and got into the Fukang behind.

The driver of the Xiali, who was around thirty years old, objected upon seeing this: "Hey buddy, what's the meaning of this?"

Yang Che turned around and waved: "Sorry, big brother, I'm hot."

The driver of the Fukang leaned out, grinned, and gave Yang Che a thumbs-up.

It was already almost 8 p.m., so even if the Xiali didn't have air conditioning, how could it be hot?

Hmm... the Fukang is 2 cents more expensive per kilometer than the Xiali because it has air conditioning.

The reason Yang Che didn't get into the Xiali was that he smelled the Xiali driver's scent when he passed by, which was similar to the scent of the helpful auntie on the train.

Yang Che wondered, "Can someone with body odor be a taxi driver?"

"Where are you going, buddy?"

"General Political Department Guesthouse"

Upon hearing this, the Fukang driver glanced at the rearview mirror and asked, "Which film studio are you from? Are you an actor?"

Yang Che grinned: "How did you figure that out, bro?"

The Fukang driver smirked, "The Beijing Film Studio is right across the street! Ha! You're making me compliment you, buddy. You really are handsome! I thought I was picking up Leon Lai."

"Haha, although that sounds nice, I really didn't mean it that way. I'm a screenwriter from Shanxi Province."

Yang Che was telling the truth. Peng Zheng reciprocated by arranging a week's accommodation and meals at the General Political Department's guesthouse.

"Wow, you're amazing! Even movie theaters aren't an option now. Guess what? Hey, I didn't take him to the movie theater."

"It's really not going to work. A movie ticket costs more than ten yuan, and a pirated DVD costs two or three yuan. You can watch it repeatedly. Who would still go to the cinema?"

"That's true. But don't blame me for speaking up for you screenwriters and directors as a taxi driver. There's not much to watch in Chinese films these days. There's only Feng Xiaogang. Can you even watch the others? What era are we living in? We can't keep talking about patriotism all the time, don't you think?"

"You have great knowledge."

"That is...."

Clearly, this driver was quite knowledgeable about art, and Yang Che didn't mince words. He joined him in analyzing and criticizing the current film market. This driver wasn't just talking nonsense. Besides saying that the domestic film industry and creative thinking were seriously lagging behind, he also mentioned that the streets were full of pirated Hollywood movie DVDs from Shenzhen.

VCDs were at their peak right now!

Yang Che said that a movie ticket costs more than ten yuan, which is enough to buy several DVDs.

The half hour at the General Political Department guesthouse passed quickly, as if it had gone by in the blink of an eye. Not to mention the driver, even Yang Che felt a little reluctant to leave.

However, after the driver said, "18.6 yuan, do you want a receipt?", the reluctant atmosphere vanished instantly.

Yang Che was quite sentimental. He paid 19 yuan, not for the pleasant conversation of the past half hour, but to express his gratitude that the driver did not take a detour. This was an extremely rare thing, okay?

Getting off the car and pulling his suitcase, Yang Che walked into the guesthouse. To his surprise, it had a very modern feel. After all, in 2026, many state-run hotels or guesthouses looked like this.

When Yang Che took out the letter of introduction issued by the Shanxi Film Studio, he felt a little dazed, because that feeling of being both old and new came back to him.

However, he quickly came to his senses because the receptionist in a suit looked very upright and righteous.

"328, stay for one week, that is, until July 26th. Please check out before 12 noon on that day. The times for three meals a day are..."

"OK, thanks."

"You're welcome."

Yang Che dared not flirt, fearing trouble. It was indeed a guesthouse, but it bore the name of the General Political Department, and besides...

"I've already stepped one foot into the entertainment industry."

Once inside the elevator, Yang Che couldn't help but mutter to himself, "How many female celebrities are waiting for me to save them!"

Upon entering 328, Yang Che was very satisfied. The beige striped carpet was thick and comfortable to walk on.

The room was also very large, with two double beds, and it looked very high-end.

After resting against the headboard for a while, I called home to let them know I was safe.

"I didn't see the thief. The most valuable thing I have is this phone, and it's still here."

"Let me tell you, this place is amazing. It's not open to the public; it's usually where people from various cultural troupes stay."

"The Beijing Film Academy is right across the street. Yeah, there are a bunch of schools around here, like China University of Political Science and Law, Beijing Normal University, Beihang University, and so on. Tsinghua University isn't far, only 6 kilometers away, right next to Peking University. Okay, I'll take you there..."

"..."

Yang Che chatted with his mother for a while, then with his father, making them laugh and joke around. He then said he was hungry and had to go eat, ending the call.

Yang Che checked the call duration and estimated the cost, figuring it was over 25 yuan...

It was already 9 o'clock, and the guesthouse restaurant was past its mealtime, so Yang Che went out to find something to eat.

After walking east along the North Third Ring Road for about a hundred meters, I came across a restaurant called Tianxiangju on Xingtang Road. At first glance, there were people at the tables both inside and outside the restaurant, indicating that business was quite good.

Barbecue grills were set up outside the shop, emitting an enticing aroma of oil and cumin. Yang Che, who had barely managed to eat a meal in the train's dining car at noon, couldn't resist and his mouth was watering uncontrollably.

So he sat down on a small stool on the sidewalk, called out to the waiter, and recited a long, rapid-fire Beijing-style chant:

"Give me a bowl of Zhajiangmian (noodles with soybean paste), extra vegetable toppings, and the noodles rinsed. Also, bring me 50 meat skewers, two bottles of Yanjing beer, and a head of garlic, all together."

"Okay, just a moment."

While waiting for his food, Yang Che noticed that the diners behind him had a very heavy Chengdu accent, especially when they said things like "yes." Normally, he wouldn't have paid any attention to it, but he felt like he'd heard that voice somewhere before, so he turned around.

Wow, isn't that Ning Hao? He was still very thin back then.