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Chapter 1129: There’s a Song Called "The Gathering of Mortals"
🕑 Added 2025-01-06 20:00:03 +0000 UTCSimon arrived in Beijing on April 25th. After two days of non-public official schedules, he reviewed various projects related to the Westeros system in the capital and hosted a reception for the "Gathering of Mortals" club. By the time he finally had some free time, it was already April 30th.
Then he flew directly to Suzhou.
Once again, he found himself in the misty spring rain of Jiangnan.
After a month of continuous travel, Simon decided not to schedule any more formal work commitments for the next week, planning to take a break.
And, of course, to watch the show.
As May approached, it was also the time when international financial speculators, led by Quantum Fund, would launch their attack on Southeast Asia. Simon had a semi-joking phone call with Soros, suggesting that since he was already in Asia, the "Westworld Effect" should make an appearance. Soros, also half-jokingly, replied that it certainly would.
And so, in this seemingly playful exchange, the Asian financial crisis began to take shape.
In the original timeline, many people remember July 2, 1997, as the day Thailand officially abandoned its fixed exchange rate system for the baht, marking the outbreak of the Asian financial crisis. In reality, as Simon had experienced during his trip to China earlier in the year, the signs had been there for a while.
The collapse of the baht didn’t happen overnight but was the result of a two-month-long battle between the Thai government and international speculators.
In other words, the real crisis began in May.
During Simon’s time in China, a Thai real estate company called Finance One, unable to repay its debts, was taken over and restructured by a bank. When it reopened for trading on May 2nd, a Friday, its stock price plummeted by 70% in a single day, completely shattering market confidence in Thailand’s real estate sector.
Prior to this, the Thai stock market had already been in decline for over half a year, with a cumulative drop of more than 45%.
Entering the weekend of May 3rd, although the stock market was closed, Western media, led by The Wall Street Journal, began to heavily publicize the severe insolvency of many Thai companies. The Thai government, overwhelmed by the media pressure, remained oblivious.
It wasn’t until May 5th, when the market reopened under the weight of public opinion, that the Thai stock market plunged again. At the same time, international speculators launched a surprise attack, massively shorting the baht in the international financial markets, causing the baht to drop by 9% against the US dollar in a single day.
Only then did the Thai government realize what was happening and quickly mobilized $5 billion in foreign exchange reserves to absorb the baht sell-off in the international market. The first round of the battle had officially begun.
The collapse of the Thai stock market and the attack on the baht inevitably affected the entire Asian region.
Directly or indirectly, it once again triggered the "Westworld Effect."
The excitement was just beginning.
While in Suzhou, Simon received some probing calls. After all, his presence was too conspicuous. Despite not making any public appearances, his movements over the past few days couldn’t be hidden from certain people.
Simon’s response to these probes was intriguing.
China should be happy.
And China really should be happy.
The 1997 Asian financial crisis was, in fact, a crucial turning point for China’s economy.
Why?
Because before 1997, the "Four Asian Tigers" and the "Four Asian Little Dragons" were the West’s primary bases for raw materials and product outsourcing. After 1997, when the economies of Southeast Asian countries collapsed, a large number of manufacturing orders began to shift to mainland China. Along with these orders came a flood of foreign capital into China, directly contributing to the rapid economic boom China experienced in the new century.
Thus, it can be said that while the 1997 Asian financial crisis allowed Soros and other Western speculators to make a quick buck, China gained a national fortune.
*Beijing.*
Ren Jingxi had known about Simon’s arrival in China since the first day. She quietly stepped away from her recent workaholic state, tidied herself up, and waited for his summons.
But several days passed, and nothing came.
Her project couldn’t be put on hold, so she threw herself back into work.
Inevitably, she felt a sense of disappointment.
It was another case of "distance breeds resentment, closeness breeds contempt."
That morning, after scouting locations at the Grand View Garden built for the filming of Dream of the Red Chamber to better design some scenes, she hurried to the Central Academy of Drama with her entourage.
She couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous.
After returning from the U.S., Ren Jingxi had chosen to audit some courses at the Beijing Film Academy while also scouting for talent for her team. The reason she didn’t choose the more familiar Central Academy of Drama was simple: Zhu Momo was there, along with Mo Wuling.
However, if she wanted to select excellent actors for her TV drama, she couldn’t avoid both the Beijing Film Academy and the Central Academy of Drama.
So today, she decided to visit.
She had made arrangements in advance and even had Jinshu Media help with the connections. Knowing how strict the Central Academy of Drama was with its students, she thought it might be difficult, but to her surprise, a vice president was assigned to receive her.
Even more surprising was that Zhu Momo showed up on her own.
And brought along Mo Wuling, who still looked annoyed upon seeing her.
Unlike the cold Mo Wuling standing to the side, Zhu Momo acted as if nothing had happened, even affectionately linking arms with her as they entered a small auditorium with a few other school officials.
All four grades of acting students who were available had been gathered, having been pre-selected by Ren Jingxi.
Zhu Momo sat down with Ren Jingxi, watching the vice president bustling around, and leaned in to whisper with a smile, "Sister Ren, do you know why they’re being so enthusiastic?"
What else could it be?
Simon must have made a call.
Seeing Ren Jingxi’s understanding expression, Zhu Momo nodded and added, "Actually, it’s more than that. A while ago, he quietly visited and finalized an exchange program."
Ren Jingxi was curious. "Oh?"
"It’s for the Central Academy of Drama and the Beijing Film Academy. They can send 30 students to Hollywood for a year of exchange study. And for those who perform exceptionally well, Daenerys Entertainment will fund their film and TV projects. If this goes well, it’ll be a significant achievement for both schools."
Ren Jingxi finally understood.
Given the situation in China, Hollywood was indeed the pinnacle of the global film and television industry. Moreover, Hollywood could easily attract top talent from around the world, so theoretically, it didn’t need to engage in such exchanges. This was essentially a gesture of goodwill.
Zhu Momo, seeing Ren Jingxi’s dawning realization as she looked toward the stage, added, "It’s not for the acting department, though. This time, it’s mainly for behind-the-scenes roles—directors, screenwriters, cinematographers, and so on. And it’s only for third and fourth-year students and graduate students. Heh, the first and second-year students are going crazy with envy, wondering if they’ll ever get such an opportunity. It’s Hollywood, after all."
Mo Wuling, sitting on the other side, glared at Zhu Momo as her voice unconsciously rose. "Keep it down. What’s there to be proud of? The whole class got a public reprimand, and you think you’re exempt?"
Zhu Momo stuck out her tongue.
Seeing Ren Jingxi’s confusion again, Zhu Momo didn’t mind "airing the dirty laundry." It turned out that recently, the entire class of ’96 had been publicly reprimanded for various absences and slackness during their first year. Although she was only an external auditor, her treatment was actually better than that of the regular students, but she was undoubtedly the one with the most absences.
Ren Jingxi nodded. From her brief time following Zhu Momo, she had already sensed this.
Although she didn’t know about other classes, Zhu Momo’s class of ’96 was certainly not the most disciplined.
After chatting for a bit, the middle-aged vice president came over again, eager to please, and said everything was ready. Ren Jingxi politely thanked him and signaled that the auditions could begin.
The auditions were for the main male and female roles already outlined for My Fair Princess.
Ren Jingxi, of course, remembered Simon’s instructions. She couldn’t cast all newcomers and would still reach out to some established actors, including those from Hong Kong and Taiwan. However, if the looks and image fit, newcomers would be prioritized.
As the auditions began, Mo Wuling wanted to pull Zhu Momo away, as their presence here was unnecessary. Moreover, her anger toward Ren Jingxi hadn’t subsided at all.
But Zhu Momo was very enthusiastic about this and refused to leave. Mo Wuling, frustrated, left alone and returned to the courtyard house in Mao’er Hutong.
It wasn’t far.
She didn’t even need to drive and soon arrived at the courtyard house, making her way to the library in the back garden.
Sitting in her familiar spot, she couldn’t help but think of Simon’s presence here a few days ago.
Her shameless niece had been all over him, and she, as the aunt, had to continue covering for her in front of her sister. It was exhausting.
Moreover, after Ren Jingxi left, even though she was still angry, Mo Wuling had begun to consider some things.
She couldn’t keep being Zhu Momo’s assistant forever.
Perhaps it was time to have her own career.
She had even started to form some ideas.
Since Ren Jingxi could work in film and television, to be honest, she was in an even better position, being so close to Simon.
Thus, during her leisure time in the library these days, Mo Wuling’s reading had subtly shifted from the library’s collection to professional books on film directing and screenwriting.
However…
Well, these thoughts made her feel somewhat unsure of how to proceed, and she was even too embarrassed to discuss them with Zhu Momo.
The girl would definitely think she was competing with Ren Jingxi or something.
How could that be?
She would never compete with a woman who had willingly degraded herself.
Hmm.
Thinking of her niece, well, she couldn’t exactly say she had degraded herself.
Still… it was all that despicable man’s fault.
Thinking of his presence here, the courtyard house had been filled with women, a veritable garden of spring blossoms. Could he even handle them all?
Hmph.
She hoped all the women Simon kept would cheat on him.
But then she suddenly felt that such thoughts were too harsh, especially since… well, Zhu Momo was one of those tender little blossoms.
On the other side, the auditions continued into the afternoon.
The Central Academy of Drama’s foundation was solid, and they did find a few good candidates, though they were all tentative.
In the evening, just as Ren Jingxi was about to leave, Zhu Momo dragged her back to the nearby courtyard house, bringing along all her female classmates from the class of ’96 for a dinner gathering, jokingly asking Ren Jingxi to help them get a foot in the door.
Students at both the Beijing Film Academy and the Central Academy of Drama had high standards, and ordinary TV dramas might not catch their interest. However, entering these two prestigious institutions meant they were halfway into the industry, and with a bit of effort, they could notice many things.
This My Fair Princess project, seemingly unremarkable, had the school’s top brass bending over backward to accommodate it, indicating that there was something significant behind it.
Thus, being able to land even a minor role in such a project could, in the long run, build an invaluable network.
The lively gathering lasted late into the night. The female classmates, invited by Zhu Momo for the first time, reluctantly left, while Ren Jingxi was forcibly persuaded to stay the night.
She half-heartedly resisted.
After all, this was his property, and she was his woman. There was nothing to be embarrassed about.
But at night, she couldn’t help but think of him.
He had come to China but hadn’t summoned her. It seemed that, as he had initially indicated, she was just a dispensable vase he had casually picked up.
The next morning, just as she was preparing to get back to work, things took a turn.
He had finally remembered her.
He wanted her to go to Suzhou to see him.
So she set off.
Zhu Momo desperately wanted to go along, but considering her mother was there, it would be suicidal, so she had to restrain herself.
Taking a private plane arranged for her, Ren Jingxi arrived in Suzhou and, after some twists and turns, reached the shores of Taihu Lake in the western suburbs around 11 AM. She boarded a speedboat to the center of the lake and stepped onto a three-story wooden boat with a classical exterior.
As she entered, accompanied by the sound of music, the first thing Ren Jingxi noticed was the scent of women.
There were definitely many women here.
She couldn’t help but feel a pang of self-pity.
Following a female attendant to the top floor of the boat, she glanced around and confirmed her suspicion.
In the center of the top-floor lounge, three women were dancing, their movements graceful and alluring. On the couches to the left and right, women dressed in ancient costumes were playing various instruments.
On the large couch at the front of the lounge was Simon.
With women on both sides.
The large couch, besides Simon, was crowded with five women.
Could he even handle them all?
She silently scoffed but then saw him beckoning her. Feeling a gentle push from behind, she instinctively walked over.
In a daze, her shoes were removed by a female attendant, and she found herself leaning against him.
Simon, holding a wine glass, seemed slightly drunk, with a faint scent of alcohol on him. He casually wrapped an arm around her and whispered, "You came at the right time. There’s a new song. Let’s listen together."
With his words, the dancing women quietly stepped back, and the music in the boat began to change.
Simon gave a casual explanation.
"Originally, the song could have been called 'Life Isn’t Worth It,' but who knows if it’s worth it or not? So I changed it to 'The Gathering of Mortals.' It’s good to walk through this world once."
Ren Jingxi, being held by Simon and handed a glass of wine, felt somewhat dazed.
However, as the operatic melody began, her attention focused, and she started to listen carefully. As a Chinese literature graduate, the more cultured one was, the more one could appreciate the depth of a song.
Unconsciously, without even taking a sip of wine, Ren Jingxi felt as if she were already drunk.
Only the song echoed through the cabin.
*...
*The bamboo horse went to find the bamboo horse, while the green plum lost its zest.
*Bo Ya broke his zither strings, and Shu Ye just severed ties with Shan Juyuan.
*Friends part ways halfway, and spouses always find new loves.
*The young couple happened to meet, but the magpies didn’t show up for work.
*Long life is hardly a given, and even seventy depends on mercy.
*Old age and illness accompany us longer than the swallows and orioles, for twenty more years.
*The little Chang’e stole the elixir but ended up envying the mortal world.
*...
