The most popular and wealthiest writer in China?
The title sounded incredibly enticing.
Wen Ying was deeply tempted, nearly agreeing on the spot, but at the critical moment, reason took over, and she shifted her tone, “Teacher Yuan, I can’t decide this alone. I need to discuss it with my family.”
Yuan Fenghui chuckled at Wen Ying’s response.
Discuss with her family?
If not for the lawsuit against Han Qin over reputation rights, Wen Ying’s parents probably wouldn’t even know their daughter was publishing novels.
Yuan Fenghui was certain that even now, Wen Ying kept plenty from her parents, like investing ten million in Tianjiao. Normal parents would at least ask questions if their high school daughter held shares in a company, but Wen Ying’s parents never did, meaning they were unaware.
Parents could be a roadblock to a minor’s freedom or the perfect shield when refusing others.
Yuan Fenghui saw through it but didn’t call it out, smiling and nodding, “Sure, take your time discussing with your family. I’ve waited this long; a few more days won’t hurt.”
Yuan Fenghui was confident Wen Ying would sign with her, especially after meeting Bao Lixin alone, which boosted her certainty.
Bao Lixin was simply not up to par.
He might have achieved something in his field, carrying past glories with excessive pride, but Yuan Fenghui looked down on him.
Achievements warranted pride, but not arrogance.
A person’s success tied to their abilities and the industry’s trends. Bao Lixin had caught the golden era of China’s publishing industry. In such a boom, as long as one entered early and wasn’t utterly foolish, some success was inevitable.
Yuan Fenghui didn’t even need to mention *Seeking Yong*’s publication, which was between Wen Ying and the publisher.
Even without Wen Ying, Tianjiao still collaborated with the publisher. The copyright for *Star River and You* was set at 12%, and now it was time to settle the first quarter’s royalties. Yet Bao Lixin was far less forthcoming than Zou Weijun.
By the end, Yuan Fenghui laughed, “Our company isn’t desperate for this money, but I heard when Zou was chief editor, your publisher tallied book sales swiftly, settling royalties every three months without delay. Now that Zou’s gone, have all her colleagues left too?”
Could Rongcheng Literature Press not afford *Star River and You*’s royalties?
Of course, they could.
Bao Lixin claimed the first quarter’s data for *Star River and You* wasn’t compiled yet, but Yuan Fenghui wasn’t easily fooled.
This was supposed to be an equal partnership, yet Bao’s attitude made the publisher seem superior. Yuan Fenghui wouldn’t stand for it, her words taking on a sharp edge.
Couldn’t tally the sales?
Zou Weijun could.
Unless Bao Lixin admitted, in front of Yuan Fenghui, that his abilities were inferior to Zou’s.
Yuan Fenghui’s eyes carried a subtle mockery, stoking Bao Lixin’s anger.
“Director Yuan, you jest. Give me three days, and I’ll ensure *Star River and You*’s sales data is compiled.”
“Great, I’ll wait for you, Chief Editor Bao. Oh, and don’t forget to tally *Teen Idol*’s data. Both books are by the same author. There’s no reason one’s sales can be counted and the other can’t, right?”
Bao Lixin’s displeasure grew, “Director Yuan, *Teen Idol* has nothing to do with Tianjiao.”
Was Bao Lixin planning to use *Teen Idol*’s royalties to pressure Wen Ying?
Yuan Fenghui smiled, “The copyright isn’t tied to Tianjiao, but the author is. To be honest, I’ve been trying to sign an agency contract with Wen Ying for her copyright matters. She’s never agreed before, but this time, I must thank you, Chief Editor Bao.”
Without Bao’s antics, Wen Ying wouldn’t have given Yuan Fenghui a chance, so Yuan thanked him.
Why did Yuan Fenghui say this outright to Bao? It was pressure, a warning not to use Wen Ying to establish authority. Even if Bao saw her as a naive minor, he should consider the formidable adults backing her.
Yuan Fenghui could have stayed silent, even fanned the flames, letting Bao push Wen Ying harder so she could step in and show her value as an agent. Why didn’t she?
It wasn’t necessary.
Wen Ying wasn’t as gullible as Li Mengjiao.
Li Mengjiao chose an agent on instinct, but Wen Ying was too sharp. Only if she genuinely wanted an agent would it work. Any scheming would backfire with her.
Yuan Fenghui gave Bao Lixin a pitying glance as she left.
This Chief Editor Bao, trying to assert dominance without understanding Wen Ying, was quite laughable.
While Yuan Fenghui spoke with Bao, Little Carp was brainstorming solutions for Wen Ying.
Little Carp believed *Seeking Yong* didn’t need revisions.
What was the point if an author lost creative autonomy?
“Little Fish, don’t worry. If you stand firm on not revising, Bao can’t do anything. He’s new and hasn’t been here long. If he drives away the publisher’s bestselling author, he’ll have no way to explain it to the higher-ups.”
Little Carp wasn’t a workplace novice anymore and had experience handling difficult superiors.
Wen Ying, with over two million copies sold, was a star author. If Bao, a new leader, pushed her to terminate her contract, he’d not only fail to establish authority but might get sacked himself.
Chopping down the publisher’s cash cow before achieving anything was beyond foolish.
Wen Ying tried to calm Little Carp, who was more agitated than her. Song Foxiang chimed in leisurely, “He doesn’t need to drive Wen Ying away. He can agree on the surface to her not revising *Seeking Yong*. You’re too young to know some leaders’ dirty tricks. He’s started this, and he won’t stop. In the end, either he leaves, or Wen Ying leaves the publisher. Those are the only outcomes.”
“No, Little Fish can’t leave…”
Little Carp clenched her fists, “I can’t control the publisher’s decisions, but I know *Spark* can’t lose Little Fish. She’s our most influential author. If Bao tries to drive her out, I’ll—”
Song Foxiang, curious, asked, “You’ll leave with Wen Ying?”
Little Carp glared at him, “Why would I leave? *Spark* is inseparable from the publisher. I can’t abandon it or take it with me. So, I’ll just have to drive Bao out.”
Song Foxiang clapped enthusiastically, “Well done, Editor Ni. Truly promising.”
Wen Ying hadn’t even gotten a word in before Little Carp and Song Foxiang were huddled together, plotting how to oust the new chief editor, Bao Lixin.
Editor Wan rushed over, his sparse hair disheveled, panting, “Is that Bao guy causing trouble?”
Wen Ying nodded. Wan spat fiercely, then sidestepped her to join Song Foxiang, “Old Song, we can’t let that Bao guy get too cocky. Let’s deal with that jerk.”
Wen Ying stood there, her smile frozen.
Ousting Bao Lixin wasn’t a big deal, but relying on Little Carp, Song Foxiang, and Editor Wan?
That seemed a bit dicey.
