Chapter 39

“Do you have time…” Lans returned the signed form.

Patricia glanced at his signature and whispered, “I’m not sure… this feels too fast. We’ve only met once, and now we’re going on a date…”

Lans smiled softly, “I meant I’d like to learn more about the registration process…”

Patricia instantly grew awkward; in matters of romance, the one who speaks first always becomes the more vulnerable.

Before she could respond, Lans skillfully eased her discomfort, holding her gaze, “And I also want to use this chance to get closer to you.”

Patricia looked at him, covering her face, her fondness for the young man deepening further, “Saturday morning…”

After setting the time and location, Lans left the City Business Services Bureau.

The bureau was now packed with people seeking services, even the entrance crowded; he stood at the door, lowered his head, lit a cigarette, then lifted his gaze to the sky.

He exhaled all the good and bad from his chest, mixed with the smoke.

The little boat of dreams had set sail—the future had arrived!

Unaware, a reporter had just captured this moment and planned to use it in tomorrow’s Business section of *Today Jingang*, even naming it already—

*The Young Entrepreneur and the City’s Future*, using the contrast between individual and city to showcase the city’s vibrant energy (see end image).

This was one of the City Hall’s requirements—they wanted to highlight the city’s youthful pulse.

To draw more eyes to it!

Lans may have noticed someone taking photos, or perhaps simply sensed it—he glanced over. The reporter immediately felt embarrassed.

He walked over with his camera, “Hello, sir, I’m a reporter for *Today Jingang*. Just now… the scene was too powerful. I may use your photo in tomorrow’s paper.”

“If you allow it, I can pay you… two coins?”

Lans declined, “Free of charge, friend. I’ll even thank you for doing this!”

He paused, then added, “Do you have any other interviews lined up? Perhaps we could talk.”

The reporter’s eyes lit up—nothing beat interviewing the subject of your own photo. He pulled out pen and paper at once, “Are you here to register your company today?”

“Yes.”

“What made you decide to register your company in Jingang City?”

Lans thought carefully, “Jingang isn’t the only city in the Federation with strong commercial potential, but it has a group of efficient, incorruptible officials. They’ve boldly yet prudently installed a powerful engine for our economic growth, keeping us racing on the fast track of development.”

“It’s foreseeable that, through the efforts of our administrators and all of us, Jingang won’t just lead the Federation—it could lead the world. I believe this firmly!”

“I cannot allow myself to miss this opportunity—it may be the most important one of my life…”

The interview ended quickly. The reporter stared at his notebook filled with material, unable to contain his emotion—he reached out and gripped Lans’s hand tightly.

“Perfectly said, Lans. These words don’t need editing—they can go straight into the paper. Which university did you graduate from?”

In his mind, someone who spoke with such depth

couldn’t possibly be a child.

Lans smiled, “I never attended university.”

The reporter found it hard to believe, “I can’t accept that, but regardless—

Lans, I’ll use your material…”

“So I want to thank you. You saved me time, and this article will be outstanding.”

Seeing the reporter’s enthusiasm, Lans considered, “Then buy me a cup of coffee. We haven’t properly introduced ourselves yet—I’m Lans White.”

He extended his hand. The reporter quickly capped his pen, then offered his right hand to clasp Lans’s firmly, “George Smith, reporter for *Today Jingang*.”

They sat on the sidewalk. George ordered two cups of thirty-nine-cent coffee and a pastry stand—total under one and a half coins.

In fact, this was already high-end for the café; most patrons drank only ten- or twenty-cent coffee, and never ordered pastries.

“Are you a native of Jingang?” George sipped his coffee and asked, “Your accent…”

Lans nodded, “Yes, but something happened.”

“As a child, after an accident, I was sold to another state. I was only a few years old—they made me work.”

“Later, as I grew older, they locked me in a small workshop with people from all over the world. You know—anyone will labor if paid.”

“That’s why my accent is complicated. Many notice it.”

George nodded, agreeing, “A nightmare. Then what?”

“Recently, my so-called adoptive father passed away. I left there, wandered searching for my family, and they told me someone matched.”

“I met… sorry, I find it hard to say the word—I met Mr. and Mrs. White. We look remarkably alike.”

"I and... I'm sorry, it's hard for me to say that term—I met Mr. and Mrs. White, and we do look very much alike."

George stared in awe, “Unbelievable. No wonder you speak with such depth—life taught you everything!”

“Lans, I must say, meeting you is an honor. May I include your story in the article?”

“It’s an inspiring tale, and you know—it fits perfectly what some politicians want to see. It’ll make your path easier.”

George was completely won over by Lans’s speech and his extraordinary life—he wanted to flesh out Lans’s image.

Lans naturally didn’t refuse. The Federation was a vast stage of fame and fortune—name and profit were all that mattered here.

“I don’t like recalling the people or events of the past, but at least my adoptive father never left me disabled or dead. And I don’t want my past to haunt me or my family…”

George nodded vigorously, “I understand. I’ll use pseudonyms for others—places, times. Don’t worry—I’m a seasoned reporter, I can handle it.”

After providing more material, they exchanged contact details and parted. George told Lans to watch tomorrow’s paper—he’d write it carefully.

Meeting George was a pleasant surprise. In this era of underdeveloped—even barren—information technology, newspapers were the main way people learned about the world.

Magazines were too expensive; wage earners had almost no spending power for them. Television offered more content, but most wage earners watched it only through shop windows on the street.

Radio was another option, but limited by broadcast times and equipment—people couldn’t carry radios everywhere.

But newspapers? Five cents each—usable on the way to work, on buses or subways, even while relieving yourself.

And they had extra value: wiping your backside, wrapping things, etc.

Expanding his media connections was part of his plan—and it went smoother than expected.

Look closely: reporters were everywhere. As the most vital information channel of this era, it was far closer to ordinary people’s lives than anyone imagined.

The next morning, the Director of the City Business Services Bureau brought a box of donuts to his office. No sooner had he sat down than the phone rang, “This is…”

“Mr. Mayor, I haven’t seen today’s paper yet…”

The next morning, the director of the City Commercial Administration arrived at his office carrying a box of donuts; no sooner had he sat down than the phone rang, "This is..."

“Yes, I understand.”

He frowned in confusion, picked up the phone, and ordered his assistant to bring today’s *Today Jingang*.

Opening the Business section, the front page showed the entrance of the City Business Services Bureau, packed with people, heads bowed or chatting with neighbors.

But in this crowded composition, one figure stood out—out of place.

A young man, standing at the door, cigarette in hand, gazing skyward. The photo carried a strange, lingering feeling.

As if reminding people: sometimes, we should lift our eyes. The image’s language radiated positivity, leaving a deep impression.

He turned to the article itself. The long text first described Jingang City’s thriving economy, comparing data from last quarter, last year, and the past five and ten years.

Growth in city commerce, economic expansion, number of registered businesses, tax increases…

Simple numbers, yet profoundly convincing. Then the reporter interviewed the man in the photo. The interviewee spoke as if the city’s progress was everyone’s collective effort.

But the Director sensed something else—this man was different. He didn’t flatter bureaucrats, and he said it was everyone’s effort.

Yet every sentence placed officials before “we,” clearly establishing hierarchy.

Subtly yet unmistakably, it conveyed that the city’s development was fundamentally the work of the bureaucratic elite.

Finally, the article detailed the interviewee’s background—legendary in its own right.

After reading the entire piece, the Director felt spiritually elevated—he could almost hear the city’s powerful heartbeat pounding in his ears!

He sat thinking, then summoned his Deputy Director, flipped the newspaper page to the top, and pointed at Lans, “Was this our person? Our arranged story?”

The Deputy Director stared at the unfamiliar young man, bewildered, “We didn’t arrange any interview or report. This must have been their own initiative. Could it be…”

The Director pursed his lips, “The Mayor read this article. He believes it perfectly matches Jingang City’s image—and effectively shifts attention from recent events.”

“But since it wasn’t our doing, leave it be. Have someone check his application—prioritize its review…”

After the Deputy Director left, the Director stared at Lans’s youthful face, certain they would cross paths again.

The director pursed his lips, “The mayor read this report and believes it perfectly aligns with our Jincheng City’s image, and also serves well to divert attention from recent events.”

“But since he’s not one of ours, we don’t need to bother—have someone check into it and prioritize reviewing his application…”

After the deputy director left, the director looked at Lans’s youthful face and couldn’t shake the feeling that they would surely cross paths again.