Chapter 328

Li Ye and Pei Wencong and others arrived in Daocheng and were lavishly entertained by Dong Yuejin for several consecutive days, so warmly that Li Ye nearly couldn't take it.

Li Ye couldn't help laughing and said, "Old Dong, aren't your hospitality expenses a bit excessive? We're here to visit friends, not to trouble you."

"Who are you looking down on? What, you think I'm treating you too well? Next time you come, I'll just serve you pickled vegetables!"

Dong Yuejin chuckled and scolded, "Do you think I'm some nobody? Come on, do you really believe my magazine is that broke?"

We've waited ages for you two big Buddhas to show up—can't we even treat you to decent seafood? If I'm accused of overspending, I'll slap it right on their face."

Li Ye smiled faintly; the Dong Yuejin of today was vastly different from the one two years ago.

He carried himself with more authority and had grown even more imposing.

After all, Dong Yuejin had generated hundreds of thousands of U. . dollars in foreign exchange revenue for Blue Sea Publishing, and even more in RMB profit—he was no longer the same man who once had to squeeze into hard seats on trains.

Yet when facing Li Ye, Dong Yuejin's fundamental honesty remained unchanged.

Over the three days, Dong Yuejin repeatedly thanked Li Ye and Pei Wencong for their help, and frankly admitted, "If I hadn't taken that gamble back then, there'd be no today for New Wind, and no today for me."

That level of candor made Li Ye feel Dong Yuejin surpassed many people in the world.

True, it was because of Li Ye and Pei Wencong that New Wind had risen from near-death to become the leading popular literature journal on the mainland, and Dong Yuejin himself had transformed from a lowly editor into a figure with some name in the literary scene.

But Li Ye had seen plenty of people who feared others knowing they'd received help to succeed, lest it tarnish their "self-made comeback" image.

Some even turned around and stabbed their benefactors in the back.

After several days, Pei Wencong and his group flew to Changancheng to visit acquaintances at the Chang'an Film Studio and check on the progress of the film city project.

Li Dayong, lacking the credentials to fly, could only bid a reluctant farewell to Pei Wenhui, then gloomily returned to Qingshui County with Li Ye.

Yet as they left Daocheng, Dong Yuejin loaded Li Ye's car with even more local specialties, making Li Ye feel embarrassed.

"Old Dong, if you've got something to say, just say it—I've got a habit: I don't owe anyone anything after eating their food, and I don't hold back after taking their gifts. If you don't speak up, I'm leaving!"

"Since you put it that way, I'll definitely make a request,"

Dong Yuejin smiled and said, "'Wandering Lone Soldier' is finished, and 'North Wind Soaring' is nearing its end—when are you starting your next book? Would you consider serializing it with me?"

Li Ye replied, "I'm currently running a short and medium-length fiction section at the school literary society—I haven't thought about starting a new book yet. Besides, you, Big Editor Dong, now command a crowd the moment you raise your voice—surely you're not short on manuscripts?"

"Short? We're always short of people like you."

Dong Yuejin said, "New Wind is now a biweekly, but market demand still outstrips supply—the editorial board has decided to further increase print runs by thirty percent per issue.

Last time you warned me about the dangers of blind expansion, I sent people to conduct detailed market research—it turns out many journals are poorly run and full of mediocrity.

So following your advice to stay vigilant in times of peace, I now need authors like you, and high-quality long-form works to boost sales and expand influence."

In the 1980s, journals flourished, but very few survived; though many reasons contributed, shoddy production was certainly one.

Li Ye thought for a moment, then shook his head: "I've got too much on my plate right now—I simply don't have time to write a new book. But I can give you two suggestions."

"Then tell me, little brother—your vision is always spot-on."

Dong Yuejin didn't look disappointed after hearing Li Ye's words; instead, he gave him a thumbs-up.

He knew Li Ye was currently running the Lone Army Literary Society, attending school, preparing for debates, and more—a student busier than even he, the editor-in-chief. He didn't dare pressure him; that's why he hadn't brought up the new book in these three days.

"First, significantly raise your submission payment rates. Second, hold regular prize-writing contests—don't skimp on the cash rewards."

Dong Yuejin paused, momentarily disappointed, then fell into thought.

Li Ye's two suggestions weren't novel, but implementing them was beyond Dong Yuejin's authority as editor-in-chief.

Although New Wind operated independently, it still belonged to Daocheng's Blue Sea Publishing—any financial changes required approval beyond his power.

Moreover, Dong Yuejin felt Li Ye's "money-first" approach was overly simplistic and not the only solution.

But in truth, Li Ye was speaking from experience: every surviving magazine in the future proved that to attract top-tier authors, you must offer real money.

Convince authors to write for love? Then they'll cheat readers. In the end, you'll lose both—and if you don't go under, who will?

Of course, if New Wind eventually collapsed, Li Ye wouldn't regret it—he'd be delighted.

Dong Yuejin was capable and decent; bringing him into the fold to build a media giant would be perfect.

As Dong Yuejin saw Li Ye off, he was pondering Li Ye's two suggestions when suddenly, without warning, he felt a chill run down his spine and shivered.

He had never imagined that the righteous Li Ye had already begun plotting against him.

Li Ye and Li Yue drove for half the day and returned to Qingshui County just before dusk.

This speed was already impressive—back in the early 1980s, transport companies took three days round-trip between Qingshui County and Daocheng.

But as Li Ye turned onto the western road into the county, he saw his little sister waving frantically by the roadside.

Li Ye quickly pulled over and rolled down the window.

Li Ying said, "Brother, Dad told me to wait here and tell you not to go home yet—lots of relatives have come, all waiting for you to help them get into the joint venture factory."

Li Ye asked, puzzled, "If they want into the joint venture factory, shouldn't they go to Grandpa? Why me?"

Li Ying shook her head. "I don't know, but they've been camping out at home, mooching meals and complaining Grandpa doesn't care about family."

Li Ye exclaimed, "Who's got the nerve to act this way toward Grandpa? Didn't Grandma say anything?"

Generally speaking, no one dared defy Li Zhongfa's authority in the family.

Even those who found Grandpa hard to deal with knew Wu Juying wasn't someone to mess with—she was a master of veiled insults and indirect rebukes, perfectly suited to deal with fools.

"Grandma did speak up," Li Ying said. "She said the foreign investors are handling the hiring, but they specifically asked to speak with you, a junior."

"And Mom and Dad told me two of the relatives once helped us—we can't easily refuse them—but others are truly deceitful."

Li Ying counted off on her fingers: "An old aunt, a second-cousin uncle, and an uncle from my maternal aunt's side."

"Alright, I get it. Get in the car—we'll find somewhere to eat."

After listening to Li Ying, Li Ye finally understood.

The more distant the relative, the less sense they had—they treated even the faintest kinship as a divine mandate, acting as if refusing to help was a grave sin.

But these relatives were the hardest to handle, because they had no boundaries—they'd go to any length. You couldn't just beat them out; the blame would fall on Li Zhongfa.

In contrast, those close to the Li family, who knew Li Zhongfa well, understood propriety and would never make such unreasonable demands.

Now, from Li Ying's words, it seemed some relatives who had truly helped the Li family had come, along with the troublesome ones—hence the messy entanglement.

Li Ye drove toward Li Dayong's house, but Li Dayong said, "Brother, let me stop a bit away—I'll go check the situation first."

Minutes later, Li Dayong rushed back, panting: "Hurry, let's go—my house is the same situation."

Li Ye was speechless.

Are people asking for favors now acting like gods descending? Do I have to dodge you all? How dare you?

Without a word, Li Ye turned the car around and headed home.

Seeing the direction, Li Dayong said, "Brother, what are you doing? You can't reason with them."

Li Ye said coldly, "Dayong, if you want to become a manager, first learn to say no—to those who think too highly of themselves, to all this nonsense. Don't worry—some people you offend won't lose a single hair."

As Li Ye spoke, he drove the Volga straight to the front gate and deliberately honked, then had Li Dayong help unload the goods.

The honk drew attention—several people immediately emerged from the courtyard.

"Oh, this must be Li Ye? Haven't seen you in days—you've grown so tall!"

"Right? He's a full-grown man now! Last time I saw him, he used to trip over his own feet!"

"Look at all the stuff he bought—he must've made real money. I've never seen such thick dried cod!"

"This kid looks decent enough—but he's not very sociable. Look, he doesn't even greet us."

Last time I tripped? That was twenty years ago? I don't even know who you are—why would I greet you?

Besides, Dong Yuejin's gifts were substantial—Li Ye and Li Dayong made several trips just to unload them.

Yet the surrounding people only stood around pointing and commenting; only one half-grown boy, silent and humble, came over to help—the rest kept their hands tucked inside their cotton sleeves, refusing to lift a finger.

Is this how you treat people you're asking for favors?

Then one man stepped forward boldly: "Hey, Xiao Ye, I'm your second-cousin uncle—don't you remember me?"

Li Ye looked up, smiling without warmth: "Can't say I do. Last time you saw me, I was tripping over my feet—how could a two-year-old remember anything?"

The second-cousin uncle froze, embarrassed, then quickly shoved two yuan into Li Ye's hand.

"Here, your uncle's New Year's money—now you remember me, right?"

Li Ye stared at the green two-yuan note, utterly stunned.

In the 1980s, university and vocational college students were considered cadres!

You're bribing cadres with two yuan?