Chapter 152: The Hong Kong Publishing House

Hong Kong, Western District, Treading Waves Literature Publishing House.

Pei Wencong held a pile of receipts and account books, calculated them continuously twice, and finally, a happy smile appeared on his face.

"Ah Min, call to order food. We're eating squab at noon today."

"Wow~ Boss, you're too stingy! We've been busy like this all month, and you're only letting us eat squab?"

Pei Wencong's smile didn't fade, and he scolded with a laugh: "If you don't want to eat squab, how about pork chop rice? Don't tell me you want to eat shark fin?"

Ah Min said pitifully: "When will we ever get to eat shark fin? When I first came here, Boss, you were talking all day about taking us to eat lobster and shark fin, but the number of times we've eaten squab can be counted on one hand."

Pei Wencong felt a bit embarrassed and said with a smile: "Next month, next month I won't just treat you to shark fin, I'll also give you red envelopes."

"Thank you, Boss. Don't go back on your word!"

Ah Min immediately grabbed the phone happily to order the meal.

There were only three of them in the publishing house. It was true that they had been busy to death this month, but she also knew the economic situation very clearly.

The semi-monthly magazine under the publishing house was constantly being reprinted, and newsstands and bookstores were constantly urging for goods. In the end, the semi-monthly magazine was almost becoming a daily newspaper, being reprinted every day.

And Pei Wencong, who used to be sullen all day, would laugh to himself at every turn.

All these situations indicated that this time, Pei Wencong would definitely keep his word.

And with Pei Wencong's benevolence, this red envelope would definitely not be small. It should be enough to change the children's clothes and hire a tutor to make up for their homework.

"Bang~"

"Damn it, are these bastards ever going to finish? They think what I wrote isn't good? Do you know how hard I've been working?"

Ah Min was happily ordering food, but Ah Qiang over there slammed the table.

Since the serialization of *Soaring Northern Wind*, Ah Qiang wrote at night and was responsible for connecting with the printing house for the layout during the day, as well as opening and reading letters from enthusiastic readers.

The first two issues were fine; reader letters basically expressed emotion and requested reprints and faster updates.

But since the serialization of *Great Han National Might*, which Ah Qiang wrote, started last week, the reader letters had changed their flavor.

Out of ten reader letters, three were scolding Ah Qiang.

At first, Ah Qiang accepted the lessons and made changes when writing at night, but as more and more reader letters came, Ah Qiang felt he couldn't write anymore.

Because many readers sharply criticized the author of *Great Han National Might* for talking nonsense, and that he was a scoundrel who hadn't even graduated from junior high school.

This made Ah Qiang depressed to death, because he indeed hadn't graduated from junior high school. But for so many years, Ah Qiang hadn't just been drawing comics.

He had been self-charging, and his literary accumulation was also okay; otherwise, Pei Wencong wouldn't have given him the position of editor and reporter.

Pei Wencong, who was organizing the accounts, looked at Ah Qiang, whose hair was messy and eyes were red, sighed, and took out several textbooks.

"Ah Qiang, take these books home and refer to them yourself."

Ah Qiang took them unhappily. After looking at them, he said in surprise: "Mainland middle school textbooks? Do I have to go through middle school again?"

Pei Wencong whispered: "These history books are different from our history books. Don't let others see them, and don't argue with people about the viewpoints in the books."

Ah Qiang was stunned for a moment and nodded silently. Through the lessons of these days, he had actually realized the gap between himself and the author of *Soaring Northern Wind*.

Especially in terms of historical knowledge, many knowledge points were only discovered when they needed to be used, and he didn't know where to look them up.

"Ring ring ring~"

The phone on the table rang, and Pei Wencong picked up the receiver.

"Hello, hello, Treading Waves Literature Publishing House."

"Hello, Boss Pei, I am from Book Union Sales. May I ask if we can discuss the agency sales of your semi-monthly magazine *Treading Waves*?"

Pei Wencong had already straightened his body and immediately said: "Of course, we certainly hope to join Book Union Sales."

Book Union Sales is one of the largest book and newspaper retail companies in Hong Kong, with book and newspaper sales channels spread throughout Hong Kong and penetrating Southeast Asia and even the West.

It can be said that for a small company like Treading Waves Publishing House, in the past, even if they begged Book Union Sales, the other party might not even lift an eyelid. But now, the other party was taking the initiative to come to the door. If Pei Wencong had even a second of hesitation, it would have wasted the tempering of struggling at the bottom of the mire for so many years.

"Then do you have the copyright for *Soaring Northern Wind*?"

"We at Treading Waves have the copyright for *Soaring Northern Wind*."

Pei Wencong didn't hesitate at all. At this moment, even if he had it, he had to have it; if he didn't, he had to say he did.

"Then can you guarantee normal serialization? If you break your promise halfway, you will have to pay for breach of contract."

"..."

Pei Wencong hesitated for a fraction of a second and said very firmly: "Yes, we can sign a contract."

Pei Wencong couldn't give up this opportunity.

He was already over thirty years old and knew very clearly that the opportunity to change his destiny might only come once in a lifetime.

Once you miss it, God won't forgive you.

"Then please come to our Central headquarters at 2:00 PM on Wednesday to discuss the specific details of the contract."

"Okay, I will definitely be there. Thank you, goodbye."

Hanging up the phone with Book Union Sales, Pei Wencong immediately dialed the Mainland Blue Sea Publishing House.

After a long wait for the transfer, the call finally went through.

"Hello, I am from Hong Kong Treading Waves Literature Publishing House."

Pei Wencong reported his name, and then he heard a flurry of noise from the other end of the phone, as if the person answering the phone was calling their leader.

Pei Wencong felt much more comfortable.

Ever since he indicated last time that he could pay in US dollars to Blue Sea, he could clearly feel the importance the other side placed on him.

It's just that the copyright matter had been delayed, which made Pei Wencong feel a little secretly worried.

"Hello! Mr. Pei, how have you been lately? How are the sales of *Soaring Northern Wind*?"

"So-so, but our publishing house attaches great importance to exchanges with the Mainland, so we will increase our promotional efforts next. However, the copyright hasn't been settled, and the manuscripts aren't very plentiful, so it's not convenient for me to increase investment here."

"We are dealing with these, and we will solve them for you as soon as possible."

Pei Wencong's eyebrows furrowed: "So, after my request last time, you haven't solved it?"

Blue Sea Publishing House also said: "We have already received some of the manuscripts, and the copyright should be no problem. It's just that your quote of 10,000 US dollars per quarter, isn't that too low?"

"Is 10,000 US dollars still low?"

Pei Wencong's mind raced, recalling that when he first quoted 10,000 US dollars, the other side didn't seem to think it was too little.

"The price can be discussed again, but please be sure to get the copyright."

"Okay, definitely!"

Putting down the phone, Pei Wencong unconsciously broke into a cold sweat all over his body.

He was a little afraid, afraid that the duck in his hand would fly away, and even that he would face breach of contract compensation and wouldn't be able to pay off the bank's debts for a lifetime.

Pei Wencong took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead and said to the clerk: "Ah Min, the air conditioner is broken. Let the repairman come over to fix it this afternoon."

Then Pei Wencong ordered Ah Qiang: "Qiang Zai, call Nan Ge and redeem that Corolla."

Ah Qiang, who was in a daze, nodded silently and dialed the phone.

Not long after, he held the phone and asked Pei Wencong: "Boss, Nan Ge said your Corolla has been sold. He still has a second-hand Mercedes in his hand, 70,000 yuan. Do you want it?"

Pei Wencong said heroically: "Do you still need to ask me? Isn't 70,000 yuan a small matter?"

Ah Qiang curled his lips and thought to himself: "The stingy ghost also has a spring, and my spring won't be far away."

Pei Wencong was hesitant, but inside Blue Sea Publishing House, it was another scene.

"What is Old Dong doing? How many days has it been? Why hasn't that Seven-Inch Blade signed the reprint contract, and why are the subsequent manuscripts becoming fewer and fewer?"

"I asked Dong Yuejin yesterday. He said Seven-Inch Blade is busy with his studies now, and his writing time isn't as much as before."

"What isn't as much as before? I think he just wants to make trouble. He found a loophole in the *Lurking* contract, and we didn't treat him unfairly at all. Is he addicted to eating?"

The big boss of the publishing house walked around the office unhappily and finally gave a death order.

"Tell Old Dong that he must solve this matter within a week. If he doesn't solve it, withhold the subsequent manuscript fees for *Lurking*."

"..."

After receiving the order, Dong Yuejin didn't dare to delay for a moment and sent a telegram directly to Beijing University, telling Li Ye that he must call him back today.

Waiting until 8:00 PM, Li Ye's call finally reached Blue Sea Publishing House.

"Oh my brother Li Ye, are you trying to torture me, this old brother, to death?

What requirements do you have? Just tell me quickly. Don't use any study problems to fool me. Don't we both know each other?"

Li Ye held back his laughter, paused for a few seconds, and then said: "I definitely have to focus on my studies now! But I am also very interested in Hong Kong."

Dong Yuejin couldn't figure it out and asked, "What does interested mean?"

Li Ye said directly: "I heard from the teacher in class that Hong Kong is one of the important economic centers in East Asia. I'm studying economics! I want to go and see."

"..."

Dong Yuejin was stunned for a long time before sighing and saying: "I knew you kid would make trouble. Don't you know how hard it is to go abroad?"

Li Ye laughed: "It might not be that hard. If you insist on thinking it's hard, you can let me talk to Hong Kong!"

"..."

Dong Yuejin couldn't answer. This kind of thing, he, a monthly magazine editor-in-chief, couldn't make the decision.

After a meeting and research the next day, Li Ye finally got the phone number of Hong Kong Treading Waves Literature Publishing House.

Li Ye paid a deposit of 200 yuan at the post office and then began to wait for the call transfer.

After a long time, he heard Pei Wencong's Mandarin full of Hong Kong flavor on the other side.

"Hello, who is this?"

"I am Seven-Inch Blade. I am looking for Mr. Pei Wencong of Treading Waves Literature Publishing House."

The other end of the phone was stunned for three seconds and immediately said enthusiastically: "It's me, it's me, you..."

"International long-distance calls are quite expensive. Now I speak, you just listen."

Li Ye interrupted directly: "First, I want 20% of the profits from *Soaring Northern Wind*, just keep it there for now. Whether you want to play tricks or not, handle it yourself."

"Second, I am going to Hong Kong this Spring Festival. You solve the invitation letter for me."

"..."

Pei Wencong was dumbfounded.

Listening to the unquestionable tone on the phone, he felt as if the person talking to him wasn't some literary writer, but a big brother of the Causeway Bay gangsters.

Old Feng finished his last day of IV drips today. Starting tomorrow, the updates will be more powerful.

Because I caught a cold at the beginning of the month, I didn't sell misery this time. Eight days of IV drips made Old Feng's updates a bit messy.

Tomorrow I will try to adjust the update time to around 8:00 PM to avoid everyone staying up late, which will also affect Old Feng's follow-up reading.

Then Old Feng will make up for the owed updates as soon as possible. Please believe that Old Feng is really not lazy; Old Feng is also very anxious.

Because I owe too much debt, Old Feng is even embarrassed to beg for votes.

It was published a bit late today, so I won't copy the thank-you for the tips; I will thank everyone tomorrow.

(End of chapter)