Chapter 12: Ghost Blows Out the Light Serialization

Morning sunlight filtered through the gauze curtains and fell across the desk. Xiang Qian stared at the blank manuscript paper, his fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop. Suddenly, his eyes lit up: "Those hit novels from my past life... 'Ghost Blows Out the Light'!"

He sprang to his feet, pulled a stack of manuscript paper from the bookcase, and wrote the title in bold, sweeping strokes — "Ghost Blows Out the Light: The Ancient City of Jingjue."

The fountain pen scratched across the paper, and one breathtaking scene after another leapt onto the page:

"Hu Bayi stood at the entrance of the ancient tomb, the compass needle in his hand spinning wildly..."

Xiang Qian rubbed his aching wrist, looked at the thick stack of manuscripts before him, and nodded in satisfaction: "The first twenty chapters — that'll do."

He carefully placed the manuscript into a kraft paper envelope, and wrote his pen name "Songbai" on the cover with a writing brush.

"Qian-zi, come eat breakfast!" his mother called from downstairs.

"Coming!" Xiang Qian said as he went downstairs, "Mom, do you know where the headquarters of Sing Tao Daily is?"

His father looked up from his newspaper: "Pedder Street in Central. Why do you suddenly ask?"

Xiang Qian smiled mysteriously: "Going to talk business."

In front of the imposing building, Xiang Qian looked up at the slightly worn signboard and straightened his suit collar.

The receptionist looked up: "Good morning, Mr. Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but I have something important I'd like to discuss with the president." Xiang Qian handed over the manuscript. "Just say someone has brought a novel that can save Sing Tao."

The receptionist, half in doubt, dialed the phone: "President, there's a gentleman downstairs... Understood."

She put down the phone: "The president asks you to go up, 12th floor."

The white-haired President Lin was reviewing reports. Seeing Xiang Qian come in, he wearily rubbed his brow: "Young man, you say you have a novel that can save our newspaper?"

Xiang Qian confidently handed over the manuscript: "Please take a look."

President Lin put on his reading glasses. At first he only flipped through casually, but soon his expression grew focused. Only the rustle of turning pages remained in the office.

"This... this is astonishing!" President Lin suddenly looked up. "'Songbai' — that's you?"

Xiang Qian smiled and nodded: "My pen name."

President Lin stood up excitedly: "This subject matter is unprecedented! Tomb raiding, feng shui, suspense... Jin Yong wrote martial arts — you're about to create a whole new 'tomb-raiding school'!"

He paced back and forth: "I want the serialization rights. Name your price."

Xiang Qian held up five fingers: "Five hundred thousand Hong Kong dollars, serialized through to completion."

"Five hundred thousand?!" President Lin's eyes went wide. "That's half a year of our manuscript budget!"

Xiang Qian unhurriedly gathered up the manuscript: "Then I'll try Ming Pao instead."

"Wait!" President Lin hurriedly stopped him. "We'll sign now!"

The financial director rushed over: "President, are you really going to spend that much on a newcomer's work?"

President Lin nodded firmly: "Sing Tao needs a hit like this."

After carefully reading the contract, Xiang Qian suddenly said: "Add one more clause — the film and television adaptation rights belong to me."

President Lin hesitated a moment: "Agreed.

"Deal."

The fountain pen landed on the contract with a crisp sound. When the financial director handed over the check, his hand was trembling.

Xiang Qian felt the burning check in his pocket, and stopped by a newsstand as he passed.

The newsstand owner was frowning as he sorted the Sing Tao Daily: "Sigh, can't sell them again..."

Xiang Qian bought a paper and said meaningfully: "Boss, remember to stock more of next week's Sing Tao."

The owner looked baffled: "Young man, do you have any idea how hard Sing Tao is to sell these days?"

Xiang Qian smiled without a word and turned to leave.

On the morning of the third day, an unusually long queue had formed in front of the newsstand.

"Give me two copies of Sing Tao!"

"I want three! That 'Songbai' guy's 'Ghost Blows Out the Light' is too thrilling!"

The newsstand owner fumbled to take the money, muttering nonstop: "It's like seeing ghosts... really seeing ghosts..."

The telephone rang nonstop:

"Printing press? Print another hundred thousand copies!"

"Advertising department? Raise all ad rates by 30%!"

President Lin looked at the latest sales report, his hand trembling slightly: "Single-day sales have tripled…

No one knew that, at this very moment, Xiang Qian was sitting leisurely at home, reading the frenzied reports about 'Ghost Blows Out the Light' in every major newspaper, a mysterious smile curling at the corner of his lips.