“Brother-in-law, if Zhao Dong asks to meet again, just go and hear what he has to say.”
Xie Qian had already told Jiang Youjia about Zhao Dong’s autobiography plans, but he didn’t go into details.
It wasn’t something he could easily explain!
Who could’ve guessed that Xie Jinghu was the one pushing Zhao Dong to approach Zou Weijun?
Xie Jinghu was just insane!
Xie Qian only mentioned that Zhao Dong wanted an autobiography to blend into Rongcheng’s cultural circle and to promote his overseas Chinese businessman background, which utterly disgusted Jiang Youjia.
“This autobiography can’t be published, it’s too vile. Even if he goes to my dad, my dad won’t agree easily.”
What former Qing dynasty scholar!
The title of Hanlin was so prestigious, yet if Zhao Dong’s ancestors knew what their descendant did abroad, they’d probably leap out of their graves in rage.
He did what he did, and now he wants to package it in an autobiography.
Was he trying to deceive domestic readers, scam bank loans, or get a green light from the government?
If Zhao Dong could keep it hidden forever, fine, but if exposed, the Rongcheng publisher producing his autobiography would lose face.
Zhao Dong couldn’t get an ISBN himself; the publisher had to apply for it, and they’d review the content.
The more Jiang Youjia thought about it, the angrier he got, “Whoever reviews his book will be the one he screws over!”
Xie Qian paused, struck by Jiang Youjia’s words, which gave him a new perspective.
Xie Qian hadn’t figured out Xie Jinghu’s motive, but maybe that was it—have Zou Weijun handle a fabricated autobiography, and when the Zhao family’s scandals came to light, it’d be Zou Weijun’s fault.
Zou Weijun didn’t review thoroughly.
Zou Weijun wasn’t fit for the publishing department.
The professional confidence she’d worked hard to build would be shattered by this… that might be Xie Jinghu’s goal, or one of them?
“Brother-in-law, then you definitely need to meet Zhao Dong,” Xie Qian urged.
Jiang Youjia nodded reluctantly, “If Zhao Dong grosses me out, does that count as a work injury? You’ll cover my compensation, right?”
Xie Qian couldn’t deal with such a drama queen and stayed silent.
…
Money can make ghosts turn millstones, let alone bend a scholar’s pride.
A scholar’s integrity is easy to lose, but hard to regain.
Song Foxiang took Zhao Dong’s ghostwriting commission for the money, initially intending to do a proper job. After all, word gets around, and a few friends already knew he was ghostwriting for Zhao Dong. If the autobiography came out shoddy, it’d tarnish Song Foxiang’s reputation.
But Zhao Dong wasn’t cooperative.
Did Zhao Dong want a stunning, perfect autobiography?
No!
Guided by Xie Jinghu, Zhao Dong just wanted to use the autobiography to break into Rongcheng’s cultural circle, and the faster, the better!
Under Zhao Dong’s repeated urging, Song Foxiang couldn’t revise properly, pulling several all-nighters to finish the draft in the shortest time. Song Foxiang was very dissatisfied with this draft, but Zhao Dong’s impatience forced him to rush it.
Since becoming a magazine editor-in-chief, Song Foxiang hadn’t worked with someone like Zhao Dong in ages. Even when scholars talked money, it was subtle, unlike Zhao Dong’s blunt and impatient style, treating people like donkeys for a bit of cash.
Song Foxiang took the payment but felt no gratitude, cursing Zhao Dong at home as a crude brute:
“With that kind of character, he dares claim to come from a scholarly family!”
Song Chan felt sorry for her father, urging him not to take such jobs again.
Song Foxiang wrote Zhao Dong’s autobiography, with Song Chan helping by organising Zhao Dong’s materials and proofreading the draft.
“Dad, don’t deal with that Mr. Zhao anymore. He’s rich, but we’re not short of money.”
As both a writer and magazine editor-in-chief, the Song family wasn’t fabulously wealthy in Rongcheng but was comfortably middle-class. Even Song Chan, still in high school, earned manuscript fees. After Song Foxiang’s early divorce, it was just the two of them, and Song Chan’s earnings kept their lifestyle solid.
That was, unless Song Chan studied abroad.
Her first-place win in the New Concept Composition Contest could secure a reduced-score admission to a top domestic university, but Song Foxiang wanted a double guarantee for her dream school.
If she didn’t get into her top choice, Song Foxiang wouldn’t let her settle for less—he planned to send her to study abroad in a developed country, no matter the cost!
That’s why Song Foxiang took Zhao Dong’s ghostwriting job.
Hearing Song Chan’s opinion of Zhao Dong, Song Foxiang just sighed, “You’re still young and don’t understand adult motives.”
The Song family’s wealth paled compared to a returned overseas Chinese businessman like Zhao Dong. Song Foxiang dealt with Zhao Dong not just for the payment but for his connections.
Zhao Dong had returned from the US, where his family had been for three generations. Writing his autobiography, Song Foxiang learned Zhao Dong’s aunt attended a top US university. If Song Chan studied abroad in the US, Song Foxiang might need Zhao Dong’s help.
With something to gain from Zhao Dong, Song Foxiang grumbled but stayed invested.
Zhao Dong’s autobiography, ghostwritten by Song Foxiang, was specifically assigned to a new editor in the publishing department, Zou Weijun, who had planned the “Hush, Little Secret” series.
Song Chan’s expression soured.
Her book’s reprint had aimed for a sales surge but was crushed by the phenomenal “Hush, Little Secret.” If not for that, Song Chan’s royalties could’ve covered much of her study abroad costs.
Song Chan felt uneasy, and Song Foxiang wasn’t thrilled either.
If only “Hush, Little Secret” had launched later.
Zou Weijun, a new employee in the publishing department with no prior fame, had planned a blockbuster book shortly after joining. Neither Song Foxiang nor anyone in the department could’ve predicted it.
Song Chan lacked some luck, while Zou Weijun had too much!
Song Chan muttered, “It doesn’t have to be Zou Weijun. The success of ‘Hush, Little Secret’ wasn’t all due to planning and marketing.”
Song Foxiang understood the logic.
But Zhao Dong insisted on Zou Weijun, and what could Song Foxiang do?
Zhao Dong asked Song Foxiang to make the connection. Though Song Foxiang had only heard of Zou Weijun, meeting her was a revelation.
Since his divorce, Song Foxiang had dated many women—female writers, businesswomen, and literary fans who admired him.
Some were younger than Zou Weijun, others prettier, but none matched her elegance.
—Wasn’t this the refined woman he’d been searching for all along?!
