Chapter 35 The New Editor

After the cell phone on the nightstand vibrated three times, Li Ruoyu lazily reached out her arm. She brought the phone to her eyes and looked at the caller ID. In that instant, a strange look flashed across her slightly haggard, sick face.

"How did you get my cell phone number?" Siyu said as soon as she answered the phone, without any intention of greeting.

"Uh…" Feng Bujue paused for two seconds, then replied, "I was going to ask… how did you know it was me calling?"

"It's Xiao Gutou… cough…" Siyu actually blew her nose unabashedly during the call. After taking the tissue away, she continued in a heavy nasal voice, "She accidentally let it slip once, and I just unintentionally memorized it, so I know it's you calling now."

"How careless could she be to let slip an eleven-digit number…" Feng Bujue said with a smile, "And you 'unintentionally' memorized it…" He couldn't help but retort.

After these few unprincipled words, both of them understood: Feng Bujue had undoubtedly gotten the number from Xiao Tan; and Siyu, in fact, had long known Feng Bujue's cell phone number from Bei Ling, and it had been in her phone all along.

So the question is, why do Xiao Tan and Bei Ling know everything?

Obviously, they have a good relationship, so they often keep in touch outside of the game. As for how good their relationship really is… in the days leading up to Singles' Day, I think it's better not to talk about such heavy topics.

"Get to the point," Siyu said in a rather rude tone, indicating that Feng Bujue could change the subject.

Jue-ge naturally had to accommodate the girl at this moment. He smiled and said, "I'm just calling to ask about your condition (I'm concerned about you)."

"I had a high fever last night, and it's already noon on the second day. If anything was really wrong, you'd be calling to confirm the cause of my death (I'm fine)," Siyu replied.

"I couldn't help it. I didn't see Xiao Tan's message until midnight. The kid was in a script at the time, and I had no way to ask for your contact information," Feng Bujue replied. "Besides… even if I had your cell phone number, it wouldn't be appropriate to call a sick person in the middle of the night, right (Actually, I wanted to call you a long time ago, but I was afraid of disturbing your rest)."

"Oh, is that so (That's quite considerate)," Siyu replied coldly.

"Yeah…" Feng Bujue agreed.

Then, the two fell into a brief but rather awkward silence. By the way, the content in parentheses above is the subtext that these two socially awkward guys wanted to express.

"Since you're okay, then I'll see you online when you get better," Feng Bujue finally broke the silence.

"Okay," Siyu replied, paused for two seconds, and said, "Thank you for your concern… Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Feng Bujue replied.

The two hung up their phones almost simultaneously.

"Whew…" Feng Bujue let out a long sigh, put his cell phone on the coffee table, then stood up from the sofa and stretched. "What's with this subtle atmosphere… It feels even more tiring than hacking monsters in a script."

Just as the phone disconnected, the intercom at the door suddenly rang.

"Huh? I didn't order takeout," Feng Bujue muttered as he walked to the door and picked up the receiver. "Who is it?"

A young woman's voice came from the other side: "Hello, I'm looking for Mr. Feng Bujue."

The voice was unfamiliar to Feng Bujue. It was the first time he had heard it.

"This is he. Who is this?" Feng Bujue asked.

"My name is An, I'm your new editor. I need to discuss some work-related matters with you," the other party replied.

"New editor?" Feng Bujue asked in confusion, "Then old Chen (Feng Bujue's previous editor), he…"

"Can I come up and talk?" the other party interrupted him.

"Oh, sorry, wait a moment." Feng Bujue quickly realized that it was impolite to have someone stand downstairs at the main entrance and talk to him, so he pressed the door-opening button.

Two minutes later, Miss An came up in the elevator.

Feng Bujue was waiting behind the door, staring at the corridor through the peephole, so he didn't wait for her to ring the doorbell before opening the door.

"Hello, Bujue, I'm your new editor, An Yueqin." An Yueqin had seen Feng Bujue's information at the magazine, she knew that the person in front of her was "Bujue", so she directly introduced herself.

Feng Bujue shook hands with her while looking up and down at this stranger.

This Miss An looked to be around twenty-five years old, with a delicate face and black-framed glasses. Her long hair was pinned up behind her head. Her figure was slightly delicate, but her height was over 1.7 meters. She was wearing formal attire, a white shirt with a dark suit, and both the depth of the neckline and the length of the skirt were very appropriate.

"Hello, hello…" Feng Bujue said, "Please come in." He let An Yueqin in, and as he closed the door, he added, "Sit anywhere, be careful not to step on the cat."

An Yueqin first looked around the environment of the room, and then came to the sofa and sat down.

"Would you like something to drink?" Feng Bujue asked.

"No need to trouble yourself…" Miss An originally wanted to say "No need to trouble yourself, just a glass of water will do," but she only got halfway through the sentence.

"That's great!" Feng Bujue actually replied, and plopped down on the sofa. "By the way, what happened to old Chen?"

An Yueqin replied, "He resigned."

"Ah? How is that possible? What's the reason?" Feng Bujue asked.

"Too much pressure," An Yueqin said.

"How could he resign just like that, without even saying goodbye to me?" Feng Bujue continued.

An Yueqin looked at him, "Because his pressure mainly came from you."

"Huh? What did I do?"

"That's exactly what I want to talk to you about today."

An Yueqin's tone was very serious, and her expression always revealed a hint of arrogance. Although her age was similar to Feng Bujue's, her aura and pressure were more than twice as strong as old Chen's.

"However… first, there's something about me that I think it's better to tell you first." As An Yueqin spoke, she simply operated her cell phone a few times, opened a search website and entered something, then showed the page to Feng Bujue and said, "As you can see, I am the granddaughter of the chairman of the Si Rui Group."

Feng Bujue had naturally heard of the name Si Rui Group, just like he had heard of Microsoft or Nike. The two words "Si Rui" symbolized a commercial empire in their universe. And what Feng Bujue saw at this time was the search results after searching for "Granddaughter of the chairman of the Si Rui Group" online.

Feng Bujue read, "Wow… it really is. So, I'm considered… an employee of… a subordinate magazine of… a publishing subsidiary of… your family's head office, is that right?"

"Not only that, don't forget that most of your published works before were distributed through this 'subsidiary' you mentioned," An Yueqin added.

"Hehe… it seems I'm relying on Si Rui's big mountain to eat," Feng Bujue smiled, "Then should I call you… Miss?"

"On the contrary, I'm telling you my identity directly so that you don't treat me differently," An Yueqin said.

"Well… that's right. Even if you didn't tell me, with my personality, I would quickly find out about it. At that time… my attitude towards you would definitely change," Feng Bujue said bluntly, "Rather than that, it's better to make everything clear from the beginning."

"Yes, so please be sure to regard me as an ordinary editor who just took office today," An Yueqin said.

"I'll do my best," Feng Bujue replied lazily. He was thinking: What's this all about? A rich third-generation scion of a big chaebol being sent down to the grassroots to gain experience?

"Very well, then…" An Yueqin said, "Let's talk business." As she said this, she took out a magazine from her bag and placed it on the coffee table.

"Uh… you're not going to critique my manuscript from last month here, are you?" Feng Bujue said.

"Of course not." An Yueqin pointed to the magazine, "I just want to ask, have you ever bought or read our magazine?"

Feng Bujue was also honest, "Before signing the contract with the magazine, and when I first started serializing, I bought a few issues. But I haven't looked at it for the past six months or so."

"Then please take a look first." If An Yueqin knew Jue-ge's quirks, she definitely wouldn't have said that.

Without saying a word, Feng Bujue picked up the magazine and began to flip through it page by page. Although he was skimming through it, it was impossible for him to finish reading these dozens of pages so quickly. And An Yueqin didn't want to interrupt him, after all, she had asked Feng Bujue to read it herself.

Thus, in the blink of an eye, twenty minutes passed…

Feng Bujue put down the magazine: "I've finished reading it."

"He really 'finished reading' it." An Yueqin thought to herself, but she still said in a normal tone, "Can you tell me your overall impression of this magazine?"

Feng Bujue seemed to understand the other party's intention, he pondered for a moment, and said, "The paper quality and printing are good, it can be considered first-class in the market; the price is also reasonable, not unacceptable; the content is fine, but the advertisements take up almost half the space, which inevitably makes people feel a bit watered down."

"Yes, that's right," An Yueqin said, "My view is roughly the same as yours. Our magazine's print sales are much worse than the electronic version, precisely because there are too many advertisements, which makes readers feel… that they bought a magazine, but only read half of the content."

"But that's how print media is these days… without advertisements, you can't even recover the printing costs," Feng Bujue said.

"So we need to reform," An Yueqin slapped the magazine.

"This is the kind of thing the marketing department takes care of… why are you and I discussing it so enthusiastically?" Feng Bujue said a little helplessly.

"It's their business if other departments are holding down their jobs without doing any work. As a member of a company, if you see a problem, you shouldn't stand idly by," An Yueqin interrupted.

"Wow~" Feng Bujue smiled, "Then what do you want to do?"

"It's not 'want' to do," An Yueqin said, "This morning, my report 'has already' been submitted to the editor-in-chief's desk." She paused for a moment, "He has also agreed that from May, our magazine will be changed from a weekly to a bi-weekly."

"Have you ever thought about…" Feng Bujue said, "If you were really an ordinary employee, and you just joined the company, and you threw a report over the heads of your superiors, directly onto the desk of the highest leader… what the consequences would be."

An Yueqin knew what Feng Bujue was referring to, she replied firmly, "The editor-in-chief will adopt my opinion, regardless of my identity." Her tone was indeed very confident.

"Hehe… this classmate, 'shí wèi sù cān (holding down a job without doing any work),' is actually a relatively uncommon idiom." Feng Bujue said in a teacher-like tone, "But 'zì qī qī rén (deceiving oneself),' is something we use often in our daily lives."

An Yueqin leaned forward, staring at Feng Bujue with an displeased expression, "Bujue, I've read your articles, you're almost writing the words 'narcissism' on your face… You must think you're especially talented, right?"

"Yes," Feng Bujue leaned back on the sofa, "I am very talented." He paused for a few seconds, and calmly recited, "手舞石上月，膝横花间琴。过此一壶外，悠悠非我心 (Shǒu wǔ shí shàng yuè, xī héng huā jiān qín. Guò cǐ yī hú wài, yōuyōu fēi wǒ xīn. Dancing my hands over the moon on the rocks, a zither across my knees amidst the flowers. Beyond this jug of wine, my heart is free and untroubled)." As he said this, he picked up a cup of cold coffee that was already on the coffee table, and took a sip as if he were tasting wine, "I made that up for you, what do you think?"

An Yueqin was momentarily speechless, having been tricked by Jue-ge. In her life, she had never met someone who wrote her a poem.

Three seconds later, Feng Bujue laughed: "Haha… don't think too much about it, it's Li Bai's 'Drinking Alone by Moonlight'."

An Yueqin was a little embarrassed and angry, and a touch of crimson quietly appeared on her cheeks: "Is it so great to quote classics and be witty?"

"Not at all, not at all," Feng Bujue said, "These days, having a good background and strong connections is the greatest thing." He spread his hands, "You ask others not to treat you differently, that's a good idea, but you'd better correct your own style and attitude first.

"If you really think you can be an ordinary editor like old Chen, then do your job conscientiously. Don't take a salesperson's salary and worry about the chairman's affairs. That's called going beyond your authority, you understand? In ancient times, your whole family would be killed, and in modern times, you'd be fired.

"Also, think before you speak about things like 'people in other departments holding down their jobs without doing any work'. Even if that's the truth, you shouldn't say it, aren't you saying that the leaders are fools and blind? Do you not want to work anymore?"

Feng Bujue's attitude was extremely arrogant. "Finally, let me give you some friendly advice. When you leaned over just now, I smelled the scent of expensive perfume. That kind of scent is like telling your colleagues - 'get away'. If you don't want to be the target of workplace bullying, I advise you to be more approachable in the future, wear more casual clothes, use cheaper perfume, and drive a worse car to work. Most importantly… don't badmouth people behind their backs."

An Yueqin listened to Feng Bujue's words, her expression changing several times throughout. The momentum she had when she first entered the room had long disappeared. At this moment, she looked like an intern, listening to an experienced worker talking about life.

"Are you done?" An Yueqin finally spoke after a long time. Her expression was quite complicated at this moment, as if she wanted to get angry, but also revealed a bit of grievance.

"Almost… don't get angry, you told me to treat you like a normal editor," Feng Bujue said smugly, "If you change your mind now and want me to treat you like a Miss, I can completely understand."

An Yueqin ignored him this time and began to talk about business: "From May, the magazine will be changed to a bi-weekly, the number of pages will be doubled, and the advertisements will be reduced. Therefore, all the contracted authors who are currently serializing, including you, will have to add 30% more content each month, and it must be…" She said word by word, "Sub-mit-ted on time!"

Feng Bujue swallowed, his face turning pale in an instant. These four words were simply a death warrant to him.

Having said this, An Yueqin stood up, "Your manuscript proofreading is very well done, and your stories are also very popular. Your only problem is two words - late submissions. However, from this month onwards, please strictly follow the submission date on the contract." As she said this, she walked to the door and reached out to open it.

Feng Bujue rushed over and knelt down with a thud, "Miss! Let's discuss it again! Let's talk it over! This humble person…"

An Yueqin had already stepped out the door at this time. Looking at Jue-ge's unprincipled and cheap kneeling, her mood inexplicably improved, and she wanted to laugh a little, but she still tried her best to keep a straight face and said seriously, "I'll come again on May 15th. Please have the June manuscript ready by then. Contact me by email if you have any questions, the email address remains the same." She hesitated for a moment, and finally said, "Um… thank you… goodbye," before turning and leaving.