Chapter 186: New Year's Eve Movie

A peculiar stench hung over the streets—the unmistakable reek of a town without sewers. Wastewater mingled and trickled along the thoroughfares in lazy rivulets, while pigs and stray dogs roamed freely, scavenging for scraps. Flies droned in thick clouds above it all. The transmigrators who had once clamored to occupy the county seat found their enthusiasm cooling considerably at the sight.

"I'd rather pitch a tent than live in this dump," Old Tiger You declared. He had always been a hardliner, frequently questioning the Executive Committee's policy of leaving the county seat alone. Now, having seen it with his own eyes, his position shifted entirely: whoever wants this place can have it. Count him out of any Lingao occupation force.

By evening, the novelty of touring the seventeenth-century "ancient city" had thoroughly worn off. Dinner was served cafeteria-style—nothing extravagant, but the New Year's Eve dishes carried enough fat to satisfy. The masses, weary of endless fish and shrimp, finally got proper meat on their plates, along with specially issued dumplings made from flour stores that had grown desperately scarce. Wheat didn't grow locally, and flour could no longer be purchased at any price. The Southerners mocked what they called the Northerners' "dumpling complex"—"Never eaten anything good in your lives, treating dumplings like treasure." The Northerners fired back: "Fine, leave them for us country hicks then." But for all their disdain, the Southerners never actually surrendered their share. Meat was meat, after all, and that right they defended fiercely.

On New Year's Eve afternoon, all offices closed except for security and essential departments. Xiao Zishan remained at his desk, preparing materials for the post-holiday assembly. Only when he finally looked up did he notice darkness had fallen, lights flickering on across the compound. Fatigue pressed against his temples. He stepped outside and wandered through the Executive Committee courtyard, rubbing his face and exchanging occasional greetings with passersby. The wired speakers cycled through holiday songs on endless repeat—"God of Wealth Knocks on Your Door," then "Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations"—tacky, perhaps, but festive in its own way. Every so often the music would cut out, replaced by a syrupy female voice:

"Li Haiping wishes all Navy comrades and friends a New Year where every hope is fulfilled, every dream realized, every wait rewarded, and every effort bears fruit. Sincere wishes for abundant blessings, continuous joy, and sweet smiles all around."

"Wu Nanhai wishes all Agricultural Department staff..."

"The Industrial Department's Machinery Division wishes all personnel of the Metallurgy Division..."

Beyond the interdepartmental greetings, many messages were personal. Xiao Zishan smiled at the stream of well-wishes. Then his PHS phone chirped twice—an advertisement: "To celebrate New Year, Lingao Telecom launches Spring Festival greeting services and ringtone downloads—" When the hell did we get a Lingao Telecom? The Communications Department people certainly had big ideas.

Xiao Zishan was tired yet strangely exhilarated. Bairen Fortress had never seemed so bright—matching his mood exactly. Tonight, all the normally dimmed power-saving lights blazed at full strength. There were no lanterns or decorations, but the atmosphere felt festive nonetheless. It was almost like celebrating New Year back in the twenty-first century, except everyone wore single-layer clothing, robbing the occasion of any winter atmosphere.

He was savoring the ambiance when Xi Yazhou strode in, clutching a piece of paper. Spotting Xiao Zishan still at his post, his face lit up with delight. "Zishan! I was looking for you! Thought you might have left for the day."

"We don't really have 'leaving' or 'not leaving' around here." Xiao Zishan suspected he knew exactly what this was about—the movie projection business.

"Found the projector!" Xi Yazhou announced triumphantly.

The Executive Committee had discussed enriching cultural life just days earlier, with movie screenings at the top of the agenda. Cultural offerings had been sorely lacking. "Bread and circuses"—Xiao Zishan believed in that principle wholeheartedly. The stupidest thing any leader could do was deliberately deprive people of entertainment. The harder the times, the more essential cultural life became.

In truth, various departments had been screening films internally for months. Initially it was strictly for work purposes: Construction Engineering showed "Rural Small Hydropower Construction," the Military screened training films, and Agricultural ran documentaries like "Golden Soil." But following society's inevitable development patterns, lofty beginnings soon acquired other elements. Gradually, alongside "work films," "welfare films" appeared—TV series, imported blockbusters, and eventually adult films. This phenomenon sparked complaints from ordinary members not attached to specialty departments. With daily electricity rationed and most personal laptops rendered useless, certain departments projecting movies represented naked privilege.

The discontent had recently grown significant, with grievances flooding the Executive Committee. Yet the commissioners found themselves unable to crack down too harshly—they themselves often attended screenings in various departments. Moreover, these film-showing departments were among the most critical to operations. On that basis alone, banning screenings and damaging technical personnel's morale was out of the question. After deliberation, they reached a conclusion: rather than let everyone quarrel over inequality, hold regular public screenings. People suffered not from scarcity but from unfairness.

The transmigrators' standard projection setup was a projector connected to a computer, the same equipment used for recent departmental screenings. But projector bulbs had notoriously short lifespans and fragile constitutions—one bulb had already burned out. At this rate, all their spare bulbs would fail before long.

After extensive searching, Xi Yazhou had finally located the forgotten 16mm projector buried in the Planning Committee's mountain of warehoused materials, along with matching speakers, a screen, and power equipment. He'd also found several boxes of old film reels, plus two 16mm movie cameras and portable developing gear. All of it he had conspired with friends to steal from his father's factory before the transmigration.

"No more burning through those precious projector bulbs—they're irreplaceable." He waved the yellowed paper excitedly. "This is the reel box inventory. Take a look and decide what to show."

"Excellent!" Xiao Zishan was genuinely pleased. The 16mm projector was essentially a pure mechanical-electric device, relatively simple to repair. Some parts could even be manufactured with their developing industrial capacity, extending its operational life. In their cultural development plans, movie screenings would play a crucial role in cultural promotion. Long-range goals included mass-producing such equipment.

"South-North War, Joy at the Door, Our Niu Baisui, Valter Defends Sarajevo, New Look of the Motherland 1979 Issue 3, Agricultural Knowledge 1981 Issue 5—" Xiao Zishan scanned the list for a long moment. All domestic films from the 1950s through the '80s, plus some old foreign pictures. Many were familiar to their age group—enough material for a proper nostalgic film festival.

"Just these?" He set down the inventory, disappointed. "Who wants to watch this stuff?"

"Don't be ungrateful. Where exactly would you get new films? Expecting Hollywood blockbusters?"

"It'll work for now. But what about later? Watch the same reels over and over until people start spitting on you?"

"So what do you suggest?" Xi Yazhou deflated, knowing the collection was indeed outdated.

"Start with the projector. We'll figure something out." Xiao Zishan thought for a moment. "I recall celluloid isn't particularly difficult to manufacture. Once we can mass-produce film stock, we'll transfer content from digital sources."

"Only option, I suppose."

They discussed the New Year's Eve screening lineup. Xiao Zishan pulled up the resource inventory, and considering everyone's varied preferences along with the holiday atmosphere, they selected three different films.

Luo Duo was strolling through the square. It was New Year's Eve, but he hadn't joined the "Lingao Day Tour." Since landing, his formidable human-database capabilities had earned him a spot on the Intelligence Data Team. His role was essentially that of a librarian—registering and retrieving various materials. The job had felt important at first, with team leaders and commissioners constantly requesting data searches and even consulting him for advice. But prolonged desk work eventually grew tedious. He'd applied to join the militia, patrolling and standing guard during off-hours as a change of pace.

His real goal, though, was transferring to the upcoming Intelligence Department during the post-holiday organizational restructuring. Ever since watching Seventeen Moments of Spring, he'd been fascinated by espionage work. Beyond studying relevant materials day and night, he believed his militia service record would strengthen his case for the transfer.

"Attention, attention," a man's voice crackled over the loudspeaker. "Tonight at 7 PM, Bairen Cinema will screen a New Year's Eve special. No tickets required for entry. Contains top-tier intense content. Not suitable for children. Not suitable for new girlfriends. Suitable for girlfriends you're trying to seduce and wives—"

The loudspeaker suddenly erupted with angry roaring: "What nonsense are you spouting!" Chaotic sounds followed, then everything cut back to "Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations."

The interlude startled him—someone's prank, probably. He'd heard about the movie screening, of course. As for whether adult films would actually be shown, he wasn't particularly interested. In the Intelligence Data Team, computer usage wasn't rationed; he could watch as many movies as he wanted. But watching too many adult films left him feeling hollow. No matter how many actresses, no matter how lewdly they moaned or how angelic their faces and devilish their figures, they remained phantom images—nothing compared to real women. Luo Duo couldn't help thinking of his ex-girlfriends.

His mind drifted to the "domestic secretary" distribution coming after New Year. Inside information suggested that most of the women purchased from Guangzhou and trained at the "Nursing School"—save for the few becoming professional nurses—would soon be graduating. After that, they'd be assigned as domestic secretaries. Not everyone would receive one, naturally. But Luo Duo had already spotted a girl named Guo Fu among them.

(End of Chapter)