Chapter 135: Page Two Headline (Thanks to White-Robed Sovereign for the 10,000-Coin Tip!)

The sky had cleared up outside.
The air after the rain felt exceptionally crisp and refreshing.
Downstairs at the FuDian District Commercial News Building.
A taxi came to a halt, and Wang Qiang emerged with his hair still slightly damp.
This rain had come quickly and gone just as fast.
Instead of heading straight up, Wang Qiang lingered in the vicinity for quite a while, making inquiries until he had a rough understanding of the situation inside the newspaper office.
Only after finishing his inquiries did he take the elevator up to the nineteenth floor.
With a soft ding, the elevator arrived.
Wang Qiang had barely stepped out when he was called back by a security guard sitting near the entrance.
A gray-haired security guard in his fifties, seated at a desk, asked, "What business do you have here?"
Wang Qiang had already prepared his story, and putting on a timid expression, he stammered, "I... I'm here to see my distant uncle."
The security guard looked puzzled. "Your uncle?"
"Yes, my uncle's name is Yang Dongming," Wang Qiang said, acting as though he knew nothing about the city. "My mother told me he works here. I just came from the countryside and only knew my uncle works here. Do you know where he is?"
The security guard's eyes widened. "Whose name did you say?"
"Yang Dongming," Wang Qiang said anxiously. "Wh-what's wrong? Isn't he here?"
The security guard gave him a strange look, his expression turning peculiar. "Wait here a moment." With that, he picked up the desk's intercom telephone and began to dial.
Seeing this, Wang Qiang secretly broke out in a cold sweat.
He had only resorted to this desperate measure of pretending to be the editor-in-chief's distant nephew because he had no other choice. If he claimed to be a close relative, it would be too easy to expose; as for a distant relative, many people probably did not even know the full extent of their own extended family, so the sudden appearance of an unheard-of kin was completely normal.
"Hello, Editor Yang? It's Lao Xie at the front desk... Yes, there's someone here claiming to be your distant nephew... Let me ask what his name is. Alright, I'll ask." The security guard looked up. "What is your name?"
Having reached this point, there was no turning back. Wang Qiang took a gamble. "My name is Wang Qiang."
"He says his name is Wang Qiang," the security guard repeated into the phone. After waiting for a long moment, he nodded slightly. "Alright, I understand." Then he clicked the phone down and pointed a finger inward. "Third office on the left, Editor-in-Chief's office."
"Oh, thank you," Wang Qiang said, expressing his gratitude before walking inside.
He pushed open the glass door.
This was an open-plan office area where roughly twenty or thirty men and women were busy at work. Some were typing on computers, others were hunched over desks writing, and some were walking in and out with documents in hand—a scene of bustling activity.
Once inside, Wang Qiang turned left following the directions given by the security guard, came to the front corridor, and counted to the third door, which bore a sign reading "Editor-in-Chief's Office."
He knocked. Tap, tap, tap.
A crisp, middle-aged male voice called out from within, "Come in."
Twisting the doorknob, Wang Qiang walked inside and saw a bald man in his mid-forties wearing gold-rimmed glasses squinting at him. He closed the door behind him.
"Who are you, and why are you impersonating my relative?" The middle-aged man leaned back in his leather swivel chair and sneered. "You've got some nerve!"
Wang Qiang knew that the man before him was Yang Dongming, the newspaper editor. Generally speaking, the highest position in a newspaper office was the publisher, or in offices without a publisher, the overall command naturally fell to the editor-in-chief. However, some newspaper offices did not even have an editor-in-chief, having only department or section editors instead. In such a scenario, Wang Qiang would never have dared to pull a stunt like claiming to be a relative to gain entry, because such editors were true members of the leadership.
Fortunately, the Shenzhen Evening News operated under an editor-in-chief responsibility system, and there were several editors, such as column editors and layout editors. Yang Dongming happened to be a layout editor. At the Shenzhen Evening News, layout editors were not part of the leadership; specifically, column editors held a status equivalent to ordinary reporters, while layout editors were slightly different, ranking just a bit higher than regular editors but below department heads. Ultimately, however, it remained a non-leadership position.
"Hello, Editor Yang, hello, hello," Wang Qiang said, completely unfazed, his face breaking into a wide smile. "What happened just now was my fault. Please don't be angry. I'm truly sorry, truly sorry."
Hearing Wang Qiang admit his mistake, Editor Yang's expression softened slightly. He tossed his fountain pen onto the desk and said, "Alright, spit it out. What do you want with me?"
Wang Qiang did not speak immediately. He took several steps forward until he reached the desk, then lowered his voice. "I would like to treat you to dinner tonight."
Editor Yang looked at him without hastily agreeing, instead giving a rather theatrical hum. "Where?"
"The Yanjing Restaurant." Wang Qiang did not know much about other places in Shenzhen, but he had previously dined at the Yanjing Restaurant with Fang Yueqing and Zhang Ziyan, and he knew it was a fairly upscale establishment.
"What's this about?" Editor Yang still hadn't said whether he would go or not.
Seeing him ask, Wang Qiang guessed that the other party wanted to hear what the matter was before deciding. A meal was merely a pretext; someone in the position of an editor was bound to receive countless invitations to dine. They simply wanted to know if there would be benefits awaiting them after the meal.
Some benefits were acceptable to take, making the dinner invitation an easy "yes," while other benefits were too hot to handle—in which case, one wouldn't go even if they served dragon liver and phoenix marrow.
Wang Qiang turned the thought over in his mind and cut straight to the point. "I would like to ask your newspaper to cover a news story."
"What kind of news?" Editor Yang asked meticulously.
Wang Qiang detailed the situation regarding the four-piece bedding sets sold at the Jiahua Foreign Trade Clothing Wholesale Market, even laying out his advertorial creative concept in full. He had to tell him everything; the other party clearly wouldn't chase rabbits without seeing a falcon first.
"Hmm." Editor Yang nodded slightly after listening, then smiled. "This is the first time I've ever seen someone pitch an advertisement in such a fresh and refined way. Earlier, I actually thought you were here to stop us from reporting on something. Very well, what time tonight?"
"What time are you free?"
"After seven."
"Then I'll book a table and await your honorable presence at seven sharp."
Not a single half-word was spoken about remuneration; both men were sensible and understood that the token of appreciation would be presented during the dinner.
Having settled the matter of the dinner, Editor Yang said, "I'll have a reporter accompany you to take a look at the situation and snap a few photos."
Wang Qiang quickly said, "Thank you, Editor Yang."
"Don't thank me just yet. Remember to invite her to dinner tonight as well." Editor Yang placed a heavy emphasis on the word "dinner."
The implication was clear: whatever was supposed to be given to him should be given to her as well. Wang Qiang understood and readily agreed.
A matter like this was a piece of cake for Editor Yang. As for which layout page it would be assigned to, that would depend on Wang Qiang's performance tonight. It was far simpler than suppressing the reporting of some negative news. Furthermore, who could question them for running a normal news report? Therefore, Editor Yang had nothing to worry about; it was tantamount to a free windfall.
Editor Yang picked up the desk phone and dialed the intercom.
Before long, a female reporter in her mid-twenties walked in. She was quite pretty, with long hair and large eyes.
Through introductions, Wang Qiang learned that the female reporter's surname was Qiao.
After giving a few instructions to Reporter Qiao, Editor Yang urged the two of them to set off.
...
Along the way, Wang Qiang first invited Reporter Qiao to dinner and then subtly hinted that there would be perks involved.
Reporter Qiao seemed well-versed in the routine, accepting the invitation with a very satisfied expression.
The two of them took a taxi to the Jiahua Foreign Trade Clothing Wholesale Market. Since this was a private engagement, they did not take an official reporting vehicle, as a crowd of gossips wouldn't be ideal.
Without a second thought, Wang Qiang led Reporter Qiao straight to Sister Xu's shop.
Inside the shop.
Sister Xu was busy attending to customers.
Wang Qiang and Reporter Qiao did not interrupt, waiting patiently until Sister Xu had a free moment to speak.
"Take care, come again when you have time," Sister Xu said, seeing off a middle-aged male customer who was carrying two bundles of clothes. Then she turned back with a beaming smile. "Little Wang, who is this?"
Wang Qiang introduced Reporter Qiao's background.
Sister Xu was momentarily flustered, stunned as she muttered, "A reporter?"
"Yes, Reporter Qiao is my cousin. I specially invited her here to help publicize your bedding set business," Wang Qiang said, mixing truth with fiction. "You know, I'm more than eager for you to switch to selling four-piece bedding sets sooner so you can source more inventory from me."
Sister Xu asked anxiously, "Does publicity cost money?"
"No, it doesn't," Wang Qiang replied.
Sister Xu's face instantly lit up with a broad smile. "If it doesn't cost money, then interview away! Reporter Qiao, tell me, what would you like to ask?"
Reporter Qiao didn't interview her at all. Instead, she simply had the four-piece bedding sets stacked neatly, took out a camera to snap a few photos, and then ran outside to take a couple more.
Once the photos were taken, the two of them bid farewell.
...
Night had just fallen.
Shekou, Yanjing Restaurant.
Wang Qiang arrived early to reserve a table, and by around 6:30, he was standing at the entrance waiting for Editor Yang and Reporter Qiao to arrive.
The two of them arrived rather late, showing up around 7:20.
Since he was the one asking for a favor, Wang Qiang naturally could not afford to get angry over their tardiness.
Inside the small private dining room.
The dishes were already fully served: Yanjing roast duck, rock sugar braised pork knuckles, old Yanjing steamed pork flour, and eight or nine other dishes—all of them relatively expensive items.
Wang Qiang raised his wine glass and took the initiative to toast Editor Yang. "Editor Yang, I toast you. I'll finish mine; drink whatever you please."
Editor Yang touched glasses with him and took a small sip.
Wang Qiang downed his drink in one go, refilled his glass with beer, and turned to Reporter Qiao. "Reporter Qiao, I'll finish mine; drink whatever you please."
Their glasses clinked. Although Reporter Qiao was a woman, she was far more forthright than Editor Yang and finished her drink as well.
After a round of drinks, the three of them began to chat casually. At first, neither of them mentioned the advertorial news piece, instead discussing which dishes at this restaurant tasted best, how the Yanjing roast duck flavor was quite authentic, and how the rock sugar pork knuckles were a bit too sweet.
By the time the wine had made three rounds, the banquet was halfway through.
Wang Qiang reached into his pocket and fished out two envelopes. He pushed the thicker one toward Editor Yang and handed the other to Reporter Qiao sitting diagonally across from him, smiling warmly as he said, "A small token of my appreciation, please don't refuse."
Neither of them stood on ceremony.
Editor Yang took the envelope, pinched it between his index finger and thumb, a smile spreading across his face, and then slipped it into the inner pocket of the coat hanging on his chair.
Reporter Qiao, meanwhile, opened her envelope and took a quick peek. Seeing the sum inside, she smiled very happily.
How could they not be happy?
Editor Yang was getting one thousand, and Reporter Qiao five hundred.
And all they had to expend in return was a single newspaper layout page, not even drawing from their own personal resources.
The three of them continued to dine.
Half an hour later, only leftover scraps remained on the table.
Editor Yang leaned back in his chair and said, "Little Wang."
"Yes," Wang Qiang immediately lowered his chopsticks and looked over.
"Remember to look at the second-page headline tomorrow," Editor Yang said.
Wang Qiang hastily replied, "Thank you, Editor Yang, thank you." Then he turned to Reporter Qiao. "Reporter Qiao, thank you as well."
The two nodded slightly, left their respective contact numbers with Wang Qiang, and stood up to leave.
Wang Qiang went to settle the bill; the meal had cost a little over three hundred yuan.
Pouring nearly two thousand yuan down the drain just for a second-page headline might seem steep, but Wang Qiang felt it was well worth it. This was a second-page headline! Though not the front-page splash, it was still a headline—a prime spot that would catch a reader's eye the moment they opened the newspaper.
As for what kind of impact the advertorial would achieve, he couldn't be certain yet. The only thing Wang Qiang knew for sure was that the heavy investment he made today was not a loss. The layout placement was secured, and the rest would depend on the market's reaction tomorrow.