“Shuwen, that idea of yours is absolutely brilliant! Here in China, if there’s one thing we’re never short of, it’s cultural relics. With five thousand years of history, we’ve accumulated far too many treasures.
Although we lost quite a number in modern times, the ones that remain are more than enough—not just for one season of the show, but for ten whole years!” Director Zhu exclaimed excitedly.
“Wenwen, what artifact do you think would work best as the opening piece for next season?” Lin Shuyue set down her Peking duck and asked eagerly.
“Let’s go with A Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains!”
“Why that one in particular?” Li Yunshang shot up from her seat, her curiosity piqued.
As a history major, the moment she heard the idea, A Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains had sprung to her mind.
She hadn’t expected that “Lin Shuwen” would share the same thought.
“Because it’s a masterpiece that paints a thousand mountains with exquisite brushwork. A Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains captures the magnificent landscapes of our motherland—it couldn’t be more fitting as our very first national treasure.”
A remarkable spark lit up in Li Yunshang’s eyes. That was precisely the same reason she would have chosen it.
“But Shuwen, what made you think of using cultural relics as the theme for this season?” Li Yunshang probed gently.
“To answer that, I think we first need to understand why we care about these relics, why we pour so much manpower, money, and resources into preserving them every year, and why—even after a hundred or a thousand years—we still hold them in such reverence.
Yunshang, since you study history, what’s your answer?” Luo Ming asked in return.
After a moment of silence, Li Yunshang gave her response: “I chose to study history because my father is a relic restorer. He once told me something that stuck with me: ‘Relics themselves aren’t necessarily all that precious—modern techniques can replicate or forge them without much difficulty. It’s what they carry that gives them value. They bear the soul of a nation and the legacy of a five-thousand-year-old civilization.’
That’s why I study history, and that’s why I believe these artifacts deserve protection.”
“Well said!” Li Mingyuan, vice president of the Chinese Poetry Association, slammed the table and rose to his feet. “Relics and poetry alike are proof of our splendid culture.
Unlike those Western countries, we don’t need to conquer others’ lands to prove our strength. We don’t need to erase other cultures to show the depth of our own. And we certainly don’t need to exaggerate or boast about ourselves.
Why? Because it’s unnecessary. Because we already have it—we have countless brilliant poems and dazzling cultural relics that bear witness to our former glory.”
“Yunshang and Teacher Li, you’ve both put into words exactly what I was thinking,” Luo Ming said. “In my view, as long as these relics are preserved, they don’t need words, they don’t need actions, and they don’t need power. They just need to stand there quietly, for future generations to admire—that silence speaks louder than words.
Because their very existence tells you that they could only have been created by a nation and a people with a profound cultural foundation.
By using these relics as our entry point for this season, and by diving deep into the stories behind them, the audience will naturally feel the richness of our nation’s glorious past. It will ignite a sense of cultural pride and get more young people interested in our relics and our traditional culture.”
After Luo Ming finished speaking, the room fell silent.
After a long pause, Zhou Hongbing broke into a warm, approving smile. “These days, people love to say that the post-90s generation isn’t up to par. But honestly? I think you’re doing just fine—your level of awareness is even higher than this old man’s!”
“Hahaha! Xiao Lin, did you hear what your sister just said? I’ll take this up with the higher-ups—you’re officially the chief director for next season. You’d better learn as much as you can from your sister!” Director Zhu said with a hearty laugh.
“Wenwen, you heard him, right? My career taking off all depends on you now!”
“Since Director Zhu has put it that way, let me offer a little opening line for the show—just to give you a taste.”
“Out with it! Let’s see how many more surprises you’ve got for me today!” Director Zhu urged.
“We are a young program. Just how young are we? Well… we’re only five thousand years old!”
“Bravo! What a line—’only five thousand years’! With an idea and an opening like that, Old Zhu, you owe her at least ten more meals!” Sa Ning, who had been silent until now, said with unmistakable excitement.
“Teacher Sa, you’re exaggerating. I just said it off the top of my head.”
“No, Old Sa isn’t wrong this time. Shuwen, I owe you a favor. When the time comes, I’ll find a way to repay you.”
Luo Ming was taken aback. That was a heavy promise.
After all, there’s nothing harder to repay than a debt of gratitude.
He wanted to decline, but the words wouldn’t come—because Director Zhu had serious clout in the industry. He was one of the few domestic directors who had won international awards.
“Then I’ll gladly accept,” Luo Ming said after a brief hesitation.
Director Zhu nodded in satisfaction. By making that offer, he genuinely meant it. If Lin Shuwen had refused, it would’ve been a slap in the face.
With the serious business out of the way, the atmosphere grew increasingly warm.
Everyone at the table exchanged WeChat contacts, and the meal ended on a thoroughly pleasant note.
Luo Ming was happy too—the only issue was that he felt Li Yunshang was leaning in a bit too close, and she kept grabbing his hand. He found himself a little puzzled: did friendships between girls really progress this quickly?
“Wenwen, why don’t you stay at my place tonight? I’d love to go over some program details with you,” Lin Shuyue suggested after the meal.
“Can’t today. I need to get back to the hotel and update Sister Shan on my progress—especially the song Qingming Rain. I have to make sure she registers the copyrights right away. Plus, I’ve got work to handle tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday, isn’t it? You don’t take weekends off?”
“When there’s work, I can’t afford to rest.”
“What kind of work? Is there anything I can help with?”
Luo Ming shook his head. “It’s a guest performance at a concert for a senior artist at my company. Sister Shan specially arranged this opportunity for me.”
“A guest spot at a concert… In the capital tomorrow? That’s Zhou Ping, isn’t it?”
“Yep, that’s him.”
“He’s got some real talent. After making it big with that boy band in South Korea, he chose to come back to China, and he’s been riding the wave of success ever since,” Lin Shuyue commented.
“So this is a rare chance—I can’t afford to miss it.”
“I get it. If you’ve got work, go ahead and take care of it. We’ll catch up when we have time.”
“Alright, I’ll head off then, sis.”
“You don’t need me to see you out?”
“No, no. Don’t you have stuff to do at the station too? Director Zhu’s already headed back. If the boss leaves and you don’t, that doesn’t look great, does it?”
Lin Shuyue smiled and didn’t insist on walking him out.
Luo Ming waved goodbye, turned, and hailed a taxi.
Once he was settled in the car and had given the driver the name of his hotel, he leaned back against the seat and let out a long, relieved sigh.
