268: Chapter 268 Betting the Future

The words of the Director of the Editorial Office were powerful, echoing in the spacious conference room.

Everyone's gaze converged on the head seat.

To them, these words had already struck the vital point of New Tide Publishing House.

With Jian Shen's current value and status, he would be revered like an ancestor even if he went to any top publishing institution in the country.

Facing this questioning that was almost like a forced palace coup, Wang De'an did not get angry, nor did he even speak.

He just leaned back against the wide back of his chair, a meaningful smile appearing on his face.

That smile carried a hint of mockery toward worldly prejudices,

and also a touch of composure from having glimpsed the truth in advance.

Wang De'an took his phone out of his pocket and slowly unlocked the screen.

The executives on both sides looked at each other, filled with doubt.

Until Wang De'an clicked on the chat interface with Jian Shen.

"Do you think Jian Shen is just some immortal who only talks about philosophy in the clouds and doesn't eat the food of mortals?"

Wang De'an looked up, his gaze sweeping over every executive present, his tone calm yet oppressive.

No one responded.

Old Liang swallowed hard, feeling that the President's aura today was somewhat terrifying.

"These are the exact words Jian Shen gave me last night."

Wang De'an flipped his phone screen toward everyone, waving it slightly, and then read it out word by word.

"The dignity of literature shouldn't only be reflected on the spiritual level. If words can soothe the soul, then they deserve to be given a corresponding worldly value."

The sound of breathing in the conference room stopped for a moment.

Before they could recover, Wang De'an's voice suddenly rose,

carrying a sense of passion as he continued to read the second paragraph of the reply.

"Letting serious literature step down from its pedestal to take root in the soil and be tested in the market is itself a 'greatness' of the ordinary."

These two sentences slammed into the center of the conference table without any frills.

In the massive conference room, only the hum of the projector's cooling fan remained, sounding particularly harsh.

The arguments about brand premiums and concerns about market value from just now...

...seemed to be forcibly stuffed back down their throats by those two lines of text, leaving not a single sound.

In the face of the original author's almost compassionate and extremely open-minded perspective,

their anxious commercial calculations from just now seemed both narrow-minded and ridiculous.

"President Wang, sentimentality can't put food on the table."

Old Zhang from the Market Department threw his pen onto the table, his brow furrowed into a knot.

"The market data is right here; the average user stay time is less than five minutes.

We're going to make a group of users who are used to a thrill every three seconds pay to watch people eating chaff and wild herbs on the Loess Plateau?

This goes against the underlying logic of mobile reading. This is just throwing money away!"

Wang De'an knew that the verbal sparring ended here; the timing was ripe.

He turned to look at the secretary, Xu Lan, who had been standing in the corner holding a tablet on standby.

"Xiao Xu."

Xu Lan immediately nodded in understanding, her fingers tapping rapidly on the screen a few times.

A few seconds later, the notification sounds for incoming emails rang out one after another in the conference room.

"The current argument is meaningless."

Wang De'an pressed both hands on the table, leaning forward.

"I've just sent the electronic manuscript to everyone. I'll give you two hours. After you finish reading, we'll continue talking."

The executives looked at each other.

The Operations Director spoke up hesitantly, "President Wang, there's a major meeting with the channel partners at nine o'clock..."

"Push it back," Wang De'an said without even looking up.

"Even if the sky falls, push it back."

Everyone felt a chill in their hearts.

He was playing for keeps.

Helplessly, everyone could only open their laptops and click on the encrypted document titled 'ordinary world.'

At first, the conference room was filled with the clicking of mouse wheels scrolling rapidly—the habitual restlessness of editors.

Old Zhang even held a coffee in one hand while quickly dragging the progress bar with the other, his eyes jumping across the screen as he muttered silently.

The slow-motion descriptions of rain, snow, solar terms, and the Loess Plateau at the beginning made him frown deeply.

The pacing was too slow!

It completely violated the Golden Three Chapters rule of web novels!

If this kind of opening were placed on Red Fruit, the retention rate for the first chapter would drop through the floor!

But five minutes later.

Old Zhang began to set down his coffee cup.

His body, which had been leaning against the back of the chair, unconsciously leaned forward.

The description in the document about the Grade A, B, and C meals was like a thorn, stabbing into his distant memories.

Thirty minutes later.

The Director of the Editorial Office took off his expensive gold-rimmed glasses.

He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and, taking advantage of the motion of lowering his head, forcefully wiped the corners of his eyes.

One hour later.

The female Marketing Director, who usually paid the most attention to her appearance and matched her lipstick color perfectly with her suit,

had a hand that trembled slightly as she held the mouse.

She blinked rapidly, trying to suppress the moisture welling up in her eyes.

Her originally exquisite makeup now seemed somewhat redundant.

She had to turn her head away, pretending to fix her hair to hide the bitterness of a sniffle.

That cold rain falling on the Loess Plateau, that tall, thin youth swallowing black buns and humiliation along with the rainwater.

That story about the 'black sorghum buns' and the 'backbone in the rain.'

Without any flashy rhetoric or deliberate sentimentality,

it was like a rusty iron saw, indiscriminately sawing through the softest and most secret defenses in the hearts of these urban elites.

Two hours later.

Wang De'an glanced at his wristwatch, curled his finger, and knocked heavily on the table twice.

The knocking sound startled everyone out of the text they were immersed in.

"Let's stop here for now," Wang De'an leaned back in his chair, looking at his subordinates with their red-rimmed eyes.

"Now, can you tell me your thoughts?"

No one spoke.

In the conference room, there was only the sound of heavy breathing and a few occasional, suppressed sighs.

Old Zhang from the Market Department, who had been the loudest voice of opposition just now, slowly closed his laptop with a crisp snap.

He loosened his tie and grabbed the mineral water on the table, taking a large gulp.

After a long while, he spoke in a raspy voice:

"President, I take back all that nonsense I just said."

Old Zhang propped his hands on the table.

"This book can move not only us but also the millions of ordinary people struggling at the bottom.

To hell with the Golden Three Chapters, to hell with retention rates.

This is a massive market we've never touched before!"

He raised his right hand.

"I agree to full-resource promotion! Reserve the APP splash screen and home page banners for it. This book can definitely double our daily active users! No, it'll be explosive!"

"I agree too!" The Director of the Editorial Office stood up as well, stuffing the soaked handkerchief back into his pocket.

"There's no need to worry about the caliber anymore! Every bite of black bun in this book is the toughest caliber of Chinese literature!"

"Agreed!"

"Seconded!"

One arm after another was raised high in the conference room.

No one mentioned the hierarchy between web novels and physical books anymore, nor did anyone worry about brand premiums.

In the face of absolute strength, all rules are just waste paper.

Passed unanimously.

Wang De'an looked at his subordinates, who had been completely conquered by the text, and the blood in his chest began to boil as well.

He slapped both hands down on the table.

"Since everyone is in agreement, I have to say the unpleasant things first."

Wang De'an looked around, the smile on his face fading as he lightly tapped the table.

"This won't be easy. Starting a paid serialization is like taking a knife to the face of the traditional literary world.

Infamy, boycotts, and even damage to the brand image—all this dirty water will be thrown at us.

Everyone, as pioneers, we must be prepared to lose a layer of skin!"

"Lose a layer of skin?"

Old Zhang put his glasses back on, a fierce look appearing behind the lenses.

"If losing a layer of skin can double our daily active users and bring a work of this caliber to fruition, I suggest our Market Department print out the insults and stick them on the wall as awards.

As long as the book can be promoted, I'll take the blame."

The Operations Director looked up with red eyes, her tone firm:

"Don't worry, President Wang. With this book as our foundation, I can push back even if the sky falls!"

"Good! Since everyone is in agreement, then prepare to fight this tough battle!"

Wang De'an's gaze was as sharp as a knife as he quickly assigned tasks:

"Technical Department, complete the APP payment interface upgrade and page redesign within three days!"

"Operations Department, throw in all the pre-launch resources you have! It needs to be spread across the entire network!"

"Propaganda Department, prepare the copy! In three days, I want to use this book to set a new benchmark for the current moaning-about-nothing literary world and those profit-driven traffic markets!"

"Understood!" "Received!"

...

Voices of agreement surged in the conference room.

"Meeting adjourned!"

The executives, as if injected with chicken blood, rushed out of the conference room with their laptops.

The previously lifeless corridor instantly became as busy as a pre-war command post, with the sounds of phones and running feet blending together.

The massive conference room emptied in an instant.

Wang De'an let out a long breath, the tense aura of a commander slowly fading,

replaced by the exhaustion and excitement that comes before a great battle.

He walked alone to the massive floor-to-ceiling window.

Jiangcheng had completely awakened during the morning rush hour.

The road below was crowded with traffic.

Crowds of commuters poured out of the subway entrance, merging into the surrounding office buildings.

They carried their bags and walked hurriedly, rushing to their respective livelihoods on the noisy streets.

"Jian Shen, the stage is set."

Wang De'an stood with his hands behind his back, watching the crowd below, and whispered softly:

"Next, we'll see how the wind from the Loess Plateau blows into this city of steel and concrete."

...