Chapter 37: Chapter Thirty-Seven: He

Provincial capital, Dahe Publishing House.

Deputy Editor-in-Chief Lv Dahé arrived at his office right on time, brewed himself a cup of tea, comfortably moistened his throat, then picked up the latest newspaper to read.

Spending half a day each day drinking tea and reading newspapers was Lv Dahé’s unshakable habit; many secretly disapproved.

But Lv Dahé never cared about such idle gossip—he was second only to the boss, above everyone else; what did he care about the whispers of those beneath him?

Moreover, Lv Dahé believed studying newspapers was his most important work.

In an era of shifting winds and clouds, even the most insignificant phrases in newspapers could be thunder before a storm; if a crowd of deaf and blind fools couldn’t hear or see them, wasn’t that just convenient for him, Lv Dahé?

“Knock knock knock~”

The annoying knock disturbed Lv Dahé’s reading.

Lv Dahé frowned, glancing up at the wall clock.

Only nine ten—who was this fool coming to disturb him? Didn’t he know Lv Dahé hated being interrupted at this time?

As for the publisher’s sole director, the only person allowed to interrupt Lv Dahé at will, he never came to knock—just one internal call, and Lv Dahé would scurry over to serve him.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and a young man with glasses walked in.

Lv Dahé glanced at him, sipped his tea, and continued reading the newspaper with rapt attention, as if he hadn’t noticed the new person in the office.

The young man was visibly uneasy; after blushing and holding his tongue for several seconds, he said: “Hello, Deputy Editor-in-Chief Lv, I’ve come to ask how we should proceed with the novel ‘Infiltration.’”

Lv Dahé lifted his eyelids slightly, glancing at the young man over the top of his newspaper, and spoke slowly: “How to proceed? The publisher will decide. Why are you in such a hurry, young man?”

“In our line of work, you must never rush—you must carefully safeguard the interests of our vast readership...”

The young man stood there, listening to Lv Dahé’s lecture for a full three minutes, then seized the moment when the other man took a sip of tea to interject: “But Deputy Editor-in-Chief Lv, we’ve received this submission for several days now—can’t we at least give the author a reply?”

Lv Dahé set down the newspaper and stared coldly at the young man: “Geng Zhi, how long have you been at the publisher?”

The young man named Geng Zhi blinked, then said: “Three years, Editor-in-Chief.”

Lv Dahé raised his voice and rebuked: “Then do you think you’re now qualified to instruct me on how to do my job?”

Geng Zhi immediately grew flustered: “No, Deputy Editor-in-Chief Lv, that’s not what I meant...”

“Enough,” Lv Dahé waved his hand sharply, like swatting a fly. “Leave. Do your own job. Don’t interfere with other colleagues, and never violate regulations by contacting authors privately.”

“........”

Geng Zhi stormed out of the editor-in-chief’s office, seething with anger—he simply couldn’t understand what he’d done wrong to offend his superior.

Last week, the publisher received a novel submission that landed in Geng Zhi’s hands as the responsible editor.

A responsible editor is the one who directly liaises with authors, reads every submission daily, evaluates its publishing potential, and reports upward to determine its fate.

When Geng Zhi opened the submission titled ‘Infiltration,’ he was instantly awestruck and gave it the highest possible rating.

Not only did Geng Zhi rate it top-tier—after colleagues reviewed it among themselves, they all gave unanimous praise.

But strangely, after the manuscript was submitted, it vanished without a trace.

Some seasoned colleagues said this genre was too sensitive; though excellent and compelling, it might never be approved for publication.

But ‘Infiltration’ was truly outstanding—Geng Zhi, who hadn’t had a success in years, couldn’t bear to let it go.

Today, Geng Zhi could no longer hold back, so he entered Deputy Editor-in-Chief Lv’s office at an inappropriate time—and got scolded.

Geng Zhi returned to his desk and sat down, dazed for a long while, unable to snap out of it.

“Hey, Xiao Geng? Xiao Geng?”

The woman sitting across from Geng Zhi suddenly whispered to him.

Geng Zhi snapped back to attention: “Sister Xu, what is it?”

Sister Xu whispered: “Did you go to Deputy Editor-in-Chief Lv to ask about ‘Infiltration’?”

Geng Zhi, surprised: “Yes! How did you know?”

“I could tell just by looking at you,” Sister Xu said mysteriously. “Listen to me—give it up.”

“What? Give it up?” Geng Zhi exclaimed, alarmed. “Sister Xu, you’ve read that novel too—if we give up, it’d be such a waste!”

“Lower your voice,” Sister Xu glanced around, then whispered to Geng Zhi: “I mean you give it up—not the publisher.”

Geng Zhi looked confused: “Sister Xu, what do you mean? Can you explain more clearly?”

Sister Xu pointed to the next office and lowered her voice: “Reliable info says Xiao Feng next door has already contacted Seven-Inch Blade.”

“What?”

“Why?”

Geng Zhi shot to his feet, staring at Sister Xu in disbelief; the fire he’d been holding inside erupted from his mouth and nostrils.

“Why? Why don’t you know, Xiao Geng?”

“Because Xiao Feng’s a college grad, because he’s good-looking, and because the editor-in-chief’s daughter... oh, oh, Xiao Geng, where are you going...”

Before Sister Xu finished speaking, Geng Zhi stormed furiously toward the next office.

A man in black sitting in the corner set down his teacup and complained to Sister Xu: “Old Xu, don’t stir up trouble—it’ll make everyone look foolish.”

Sister Xu glanced at him: “Hmph, then why didn’t you stop Xiao Geng? Besides, Feng Bo struts around like he owns the place—I don’t believe you actually like him.”

The man in black chuckled: “Ha, I’m about to retire—what’s left to dislike?”

Sister Xu looked at him with contempt: “Pfft. You’re the sneakiest one in the whole office.”

Geng Zhi burst into the next office, startling three colleagues inside.

Two of them immediately lowered their heads, pretending not to see him.

Feng Bo, seated in the middle, lifted his eyelids and stared coldly at Geng Zhi: “What do you want?”

Geng Zhi didn’t waste time: “Have you contacted Seven-Inch Blade?”

Feng Bo frowned: “You should ask the editor-in-chief, not me.”

Geng Zhi snapped: “I’m asking you—do you even understand the rules? That manuscript was mine, and you’re trying to steal it?”

The “rules” Geng Zhi referred to were unspoken publisher norms: whoever first received a submission owned it—even if higher-ups assigned it, you were supposed to refuse.

But Feng Bo didn’t care about rules—he grabbed whatever landed in his bowl; whoever stuck their mouth in first got to eat.

“If you’ve got guts, go ask the editor-in-chief. If you don’t, get out...”

“Say that again—have the guts?”

“Say it eight times—”

“Ding-ding-ding~”

Just as the two were about to escalate, the office phone rang.

Feng Bo snatched the receiver first, adjusting his tone to sound pleasant: “Hello, Dahe Publishing House.”

“Yes, this is Feng Bo... Seven-Inch Blade? You’re Li Ye, right?”

Geng Zhi immediately lunged to grab the phone.

But Feng Bo glared sharply at him and made a “shh” gesture with his hand.

Geng Zhi clenched his teeth and forcibly stopped himself.

Internal disputes mustn’t be aired for outsiders to laugh at.

Feng Bo smirked into the phone: “Yes, our suggestion is you bring the remaining manuscript here. After our analysis and review, we’ll decide whether to publish.”

“Why? Don’t you know what’s wrong with your own manuscript? Bring the full draft—we’ll assign professional editors to help you revise...”

“You don’t have time to come? Why don’t you have time?”

Unconsciously, Feng Bo’s tone shifted—from initially warm and cordial to domineering and haughty.

“What? You’re preparing for an exam? What exam... you’re a high school student?”

Feng Bo’s voice shot up; his final words nearly shouted.

Meanwhile, at the Qingshui County Post Office, Li Ye was utterly speechless.

Aren’t editors in this era supposed to be enthusiastic and passionate?

Aren’t editors in this era supposed to be benevolent and open-minded?

【But judging by the voice on the other end, this guy isn’t even old—why is he so old-fashioned, and why does he have such a big ego?】