In terms of literary achievements and seniority, Elder Fu far surpasses Wen Ying by a wide margin.
Yet when it comes to royalty income, Elder Fu lags far, far behind Wen Ying.
Elder Fu has less money than Wen Ying. He contributed 1 million to the literature fund, and the old gentleman still refused to have it named after him. Such a realm of detachment left Wen Ying in profound admiration.
The establishment of the Dream Building Fund naturally required a press conference.
The media were invited to the venue. As they listened to Wen Ying introduce the fund’s composition, the journalists exchanged glances.
“Is it true that Little Fish contributed 5 million?”
“The fund is purely philanthropic.”
“Exactly 5 million, no more, no less. Is it perhaps tied to the recent controversy over ‘a single script quoted at 5 million’?”
What a coincidence.
Wen Ying had taken much criticism for quoting 5 million for a film script. Now she was donating that very 5 million, earned amid the backlash, to the Dream Building Fund.
The fund had an initial capital of 20 million. One of its main aims was to support impoverished writers in continuing their creative work. A writer’s pen is a blade. Impoverished writers receiving aid from the Dream Building Fund would hardly feel comfortable giving Wen Ying poor reviews in future.
The journalists implied that Wen Ying had set up the fund to buy favour with the critical establishment, to polish her own reputation.
Though others thought the same, they were not foolish enough to voice it.
Several unfriendly gazes turned towards the questioning journalist. He held his ground stubbornly, insisting Wen Ying answer.
Wen Ying raised her hand slightly, declining Yuan Fenghui’s offer to respond as her agent. Facing the lens thrust almost into her face, she replied calmly, “Let me clarify one point. The Dream Building Fund was actually initiated by Junyue Culture. I am merely a follower, not the originator. As for my contributing 5 million, whether it is to reverse the recent public opinion trend, I do not deny that this played a part.”
Er.
She actually admitted it?
They had expected Wen Ying to deny or deflect, not to acknowledge it so readily.
The questioning journalist paused in surprise, then quickly glanced at his own cameraman.
The red light on the camera indicated that Wen Ying’s response had been recorded.
The journalist grew even more excited.
“You admit that your donation to the Dream Building Fund was impure in motive?”
Wen Ying nodded. “I admit it.”
“Then you…”
Wen Ying interrupted the agitated journalist. “You have asked me several questions. May I ask you one? Setting aside a journalist’s professional instinct to chase hot stories, do you personally like me?”
What sort of question was that?
The journalist suspected Wen Ying was setting a trap. He answered cautiously, “You are so talented. No one could dislike you.”
A flawless response, allowing advance or retreat. Truly a cunning media professional.
Wen Ying felt awkward targeting an honest person, but she never feared dealing with cunning ones. Her smile widened. “If you do not dislike me, that means you like me. You clearly do not dislike me, yet you always pose sharp questions. Is that not inconsistent? On one side personal preference, on the other professional duty. I know it puts you in a difficult position. But rest assured, I will not resent you for your ‘impure motives’. I understand that journalists must pursue hot stories. I appreciate your challenges, so I never avoid your questions.”
The journalist was thoroughly bewildered by Wen Ying’s words.
Yuan Fenghui took the microphone. “What Little Fish means is that we are all ordinary people. Whatever we do, we have a little selfishness. As long as that selfishness harms no one, why scrutinise it? Regardless of Little Fish’s motives, she has genuinely contributed 5 million to the Dream Building Fund. The fund will indeed help many people. Even if her action does not earn praise, it should at least not be condemned.”
The journalist choked.
The logic was sound. He was not unaware of it. But as Wen Ying had said, if journalists’ questions lacked edge, the news would be bland and unremarkable.
The public craved conflict, explosive points.
Experienced and thick-skinned, the journalist pressed on, “Little Fish donated 5 million to the Dream Building Fund and improved her own reputation. This is a cost-effective PR move.”
That was rather excessive.
Wen Ying had admitted some selfishness. The journalist now attributed her entire 5 million donation to selfishness.
Yuan Fenghui suspected the journalist had been sent by Ran Keqing to cause trouble. Anger rose within her, yet her face remained amiable. “Little Fish is so busy she has no time for personal PR. Yet after your sharp questions today, once the press conference ends, you might face online backlash. Why not donate a little to the Dream Building Fund now and buy yourself some goodwill?”
“I report the news truthfully. I need no purchased reputation.”
“Oh dear, do not be so stingy. Donating to the Dream Building Fund is doing good. Are you truly unwilling?”
Yuan Fenghui pressed step by step. The journalist’s face flushed red.
This was public coercion to donate.
Journalists often put others in awkward positions. Being coerced themselves was rare.
Without waiting for a reply, Yuan Fenghui shifted tone with feigned regret, “I think it is not that you do not want goodwill. You are simply unwilling to spend money. Do not claim your income is less than Little Fish’s. Good deeds are always according to one’s means. Little Fish donated 5 million. You could donate 50,000 or 5,000. Alright, alright. I was only joking. How could we really expect you to donate? For now, the Dream Building Fund is not accepting external donations.”
Wen Ying herself had donated 5 million and still faced questions over motives. Accepting public donations would certainly invite copycat readers.
Then explanations would become even messier.
Even with transparent expenditure reports, some would suspect Wen Ying using the fund to profit from readers.
Unnecessary.
Properly managing the 20 million would allow the Dream Building Fund to achieve great impact without reader donations.
The journalist, thoroughly played by Yuan Fenghui, felt uncomfortably stifled.
As he sought another angle to challenge Wen Ying, a lean figure appeared at the venue entrance.
Wen Ying spotted him first and pushed through the journalists to run over.
“Why have you come…”
The lean figure was none other than Elder Fu.
Elder Fu had donated 1 million to the Dream Building Fund, refused naming rights, and initially planned not to attend the press conference.
It was not that Elder Fu did not wish to come. Wen Ying, hearing he had been unwell lately, did not want him to travel.
Yet the old gentleman had still made it to the venue.
Supported by Wen Ying, he walked towards the stage. Some journalists recognised him, causing a stir in the press pack.
Elder Fu’s favour towards Wen Ying was no longer a secret. Today he had come again to support her.
The questioning journalist had been impatient. The host had not yet finished introducing all contributors when he began pressing Wen Ying, so the journalists were unaware Elder Fu was also a donor.
“Little Fish donated to the Dream Building Fund for PR. Does this old man contributing a little also count as PR? You lot should keep purer minds. Then you might produce higher-quality interviews.”
