“Brother Zhao?”
“Of course, Mr. Xie, I know about Rongcheng Publishing Group. Without that connection, I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you,” Zhao Dong said, unsure of Xie Jinghu’s intentions but following his lead.
Zhao Dong wasn’t lying.
Without knowing Jiang Youjia, he wouldn’t have met Xie Qian.
Without Xie Qian, how could he have climbed the ladder to connect with Xie Jinghu?
In a way, Zhao Dong had fully exploited his relationship with Jiang Youjia. Even though Jiang Youjia no longer associated with him, Zhao Dong was eager to squeeze any remaining value from their past friendship, now loudly boasting about his ties with Jiang Youjia.
“I’m quite close with Mr. Jiang as well,” Zhao Dong said.
He had indeed used Jiang Xuekun’s connections in Rongcheng, but after Jiang Youjia saw through his opportunistic nature, the Jiang family’s network became inaccessible to him.
Now that Xie Jinghu brought up Rongcheng Publishing Group, Zhao Dong shamelessly took credit.
Xie Jinghu smiled, “With such connections, Brother Zhao, you should make good use of them. I can help you with funding introductions, but you need to have a plan. Getting government approval for operating rights isn’t just about money—it’s also about your background and credentials. I told you before, culture and tourism go hand in hand. You should work on packaging your background.”
Zhao Dong suspected Xie Jinghu was subtly mocking him, and even with his thick skin, he couldn’t respond immediately.
Xie Jinghu, meanwhile, thought Zhao Dong was slow-witted.
—No wonder he’s been back in the country so long without making a name for himself. The Zhao family is only good at sponging off others; they’re useless at anything else!
Xie Jinghu spelled it out, “I heard your family were scholars in the past, even producing a Hanlin academic in the Qing dynasty. That makes you a scion of a prestigious family, returning with capital to support the nation and your hometown’s economy. Such an interesting story deserves a book to promote it!”
Now Zhao Dong was certain Xie Jinghu was mocking him.
How the Zhao family amassed their wealth, Zhao Dong knew well.
Could such a story be turned into a book?
“Brother Zhao, don’t rush to object. Think about my suggestion. In business dealings, is it more impressive to pour wine and light cigarettes, or to present a copy of your autobiography and ask for feedback?”
A businessman’s instinct for profit kicked in, and Zhao Dong, before he could get angry, was drawn to the prospect Xie Jinghu described. Relationships built on gifts and flattery weren’t reliable. His lossම
System: last loss in the bidding for the permit was due to the Rongcheng government’s lack of trust in him. The Zhao family had indeed accumulated wealth, but they hadn’t achieved anything remarkable abroad, and the domestic government was no longer as easily swayed as before.
If he could polish his background and heavily promote his image as a patriotic overseas businessman, it would likely make many things easier.
Having dealt with Xie Jinghu for so long, this was the first time Xie Jinghu had offered him something truly valuable, and Zhao Dong eagerly seized the opportunity, “Mr. Xie, your words have truly enlightened me!”
Realizing the Xie and Jiang families were related, Zhao Dong understood why Xie Jinghu mentioned Rongcheng Publishing Group—he wanted him to approach a publisher under their umbrella.
Zhao Dong said he’d visit Mr. Jiang upon returning to Rongcheng, but Xie Jinghu waved it off, “No need to trouble yourself. An autobiography is a small matter. I’ll give you a phone number. Contact her yourself, but figure out what to say—don’t mention I sent you.”
Xie Jinghu gave Zhao Dong Zou Weijun’s new phone number.
Whether Xie Qian was targeting Zhao Dong or not, a little probing would reveal the truth.
If Xie Qian opposed Zou Weijun helping Zhao Dong with the autobiography, it likely meant the previous leak came from Zhao Dong, and Xie Qian was already wary of him. In that case, Xie Jinghu would avoid assigning him certain tasks.
If Xie Qian didn’t object, it would prove the leak came from Xie Jinghu’s side, and he’d have to thoroughly vet his own people and deal with any issues.
Zhao Dong found the instruction odd.
Agreeing to Xie Jinghu’s face, he had his secretary call the number upon returning to Rongcheng and discovered its owner—good heavens, it was “Mrs. Xie” herself!
Was Xie Jinghu out of his mind?
Zhao Dong looked in the mirror.
In terms of looks, he wasn’t as handsome as Xie Jinghu, but he was younger, a promising young man in his own right.
Xie Jinghu not only asked him to look after his mistress but also arranged for him to boost his wife’s work achievements. Zhao Dong couldn’t fathom what Xie Jinghu was thinking.
Furious, Zhao Dong’s eyes reddened. How could someone like Xie Jinghu hold such vast wealth while he, working so hard, couldn’t strike it rich?
Angry as he was, Zhao Dong stayed rational. Instead of contacting Zou Weijun directly, he had someone reach out to the local writers’ association in Rongcheng.
Through an introduction, Zhao Dong met a writer surnamed Song.
Song had gained fame as a young poet and was well-regarded in Rongcheng’s cultural circles. Later, he joined the writers’ association and became a magazine editor, though he hadn’t published new work in years. Rumor had it his daughter was quite talented, and he was focused on nurturing her to carry on his legacy.
The introducer praised Song highly, “Teacher Song is impressive. His daughter won first prize in the New Concept Essay Contest last year and published a novel at a young age, which is now a bestseller.”
Zhao Dong couldn’t care less about the New Concept Essay Contest.
He targeted Song because the magazine Song edited was also under Rongcheng Publishing Group.
This way, having Song ghostwrite his autobiography and act as a liaison to Zou Weijun wouldn’t seem abrupt.
Zhao Dong had already inquired and learned that Zou Weijun, new to her job, had planned a highly successful popular science book. Even without Xie Jinghu’s instructions, Zhao Dong felt confident entrusting his autobiography to her for publishing.
Song, of course, understood what ghostwriting an autobiography entailed.
There were two models: one where the subject provides material, and the writer organizes it into a book titled *So-and-So’s Autobiography*, credited to the writer. The other was pure ghostwriting, where the book, though written by the author, bore the subject’s name.
Song, long established in Rongcheng, valued his reputation and preferred the first model.
But Zhao Dong wanted the fame, clearly paying for a chance to break into Rongcheng’s circles. Why would he let Song take the credit?
Song wanted to refuse, but while Zhao Dong fretted over billions in funding, he wasn’t short on cash.
What was pocket change to Zhao Dong was a fortune to Song. In the end, Song succumbed to the lure of money and agreed to ghostwrite for Zhao Dong!
Zhao Dong didn’t hide these dealings from his driver, testing the driver’s loyalty.
