334: Chapter 334 S-Rank Seal Order

As the feeds from various branch venues lit up on the large screen one by one,

the images of several core leaders at the highest level of the China Writers Association appeared on the display in sequence.

There were the chairmen of the Writers Associations from Guang City, Shenzhen, and other regions, as well as several office directors from the China Propaganda Department.

This was originally meant to be a routine briefing to report first-day sales,

but because of a set of extremely out-of-control data, it had been directly upgraded to a high-specification decision-making meeting for the Chinese Literary World.

Zhou Wenyuan sat in the main seat, pushing the sales reports and public opinion monitoring sent from Shanghai to all terminals simultaneously. During the few seconds it took for the data to load, no one spoke. The camera at the Guang City branch captured the person in charge there taking off his reading glasses, putting them back on, and leaning into the screen to double-check twice before leaning back against his chair.

"You have all seen the data." Zhou Wenyuan sat with his hands crossed on the table, his tone devoid of any unnecessary preamble.

"folding beijing not only withstood the crushing force of a ten-million-level promotional campaign, but it also tore through nearly half of its inventory on the first day.

The online buzz is still continuing to climb; offline bookstores will surely face a buying frenzy tomorrow.

The inventory in Shanghai won't last until tomorrow noon.

I've called everyone here to set the tone: how many copies of this book should we reprint?"

The discussion regarding the reprint quantity quickly unfolded between the various branch venues.

According to the usual conventions of the publishing industry, for a new author with no foundation,

even one who won the national championship, a first print run of twenty thousand copies was already an exceptional treatment.

If a stock-out crisis occurred, the routine reprinting operation was usually to maintain the same specifications as the first print,

adding another twenty thousand copies—and that was already considered an extreme move.

"Let me say a few words first." Chairman Lu of the Shanghai Writers Association spoke toward the camera, his tone carrying the urgency of a frontline commander.

"As the main venue, Shanghai sold nearly four thousand copies today alone.

Considering tomorrow's weekend effect and the fermentation of online public opinion, I suggest reprinting thirty thousand copies.

This number is enough to handle tomorrow's buying craze, and it also breaks the highest reprint specification of any previous champion of 'Fu Zhi Yao Competition,' giving this kid plenty of face."

The several leaders on the screen nodded slightly, feeling that this number was relatively safe.

"Thirty thousand copies is too conservative." Gu Changfeng of the Jiangsu Provincial Writers Association picked up his teacup.

"Old Lu, you all should have noticed the long review that young pianist wrote on the Microblogging platform.

The readership has already exceeded ten million, and at least half of the comment section consists of young groups who never paid attention to pure literature before.

What does this data show? It shows that the reader base for this book is far larger than we estimated.

I suggest reprinting fifty thousand copies directly. Let's not wait for the market to teach us how to do things."

"Fifty thousand copies?"

The person in charge of the Guang City Writers Association frowned slightly, his tone appearing more cautious.

"Old Gu, your sentiment is understandable, but this step is indeed a bit aggressive.

He is, after all, just a seventeen-year-old high school student, and online public opinion is highly uncontrollable.

Once the heat recedes and subsequent sales suffer a cliff-like drop,

the inventory backlog and capital tied up by these fifty thousand copies might be hard to justify during the year-end audit."

"True, the printing costs plus logistics for fifty thousand copies is not a small sum.

Thirty thousand copies allows us to attack or retreat; it's more stable."

Another office director from the publishing department also spoke up in agreement.

The meeting fell into a slow grind of deadlock; between thirty thousand and fifty thousand, the two sides' opinions remained at an impasse.

Just as everyone was arguing incessantly, Zhou Wenyuan, who had been listening in silence from the main seat, raised his right hand and pressed down lightly in the air.

The arguments from the various branch venues immediately quieted down,

and everyone's gaze converged on the middle-aged man in the center of the screen, who possessed an aura of natural authority.

Zhou Wenyuan did not look at the reports in his hand but stared directly at the camera ahead, throwing out a world-shaking proposal in a deep voice.

"Don't argue over thirty or fifty thousand anymore. Adjust the publishing rating of 'folding beijing' directly to S-rank. For the first round of reprinting: one hundred thousand copies."

When this sentence was transmitted through the encrypted lines to the various branch venues, the entire video conference room instantly fell into a dead silence.

Even the usually steady Gu Changfeng was slightly stunned, the teacup held in mid-air sending out a circle of fine ripples.

S-rank! One hundred thousand copies!

No one in the meeting room spoke.

Gu Changfeng's teacup hung by his mouth, the surface of the Biluochun tea inside rippling with fine waves.

Within the Chinese publishing system, there was a set of unwritten but universally known rating standards.

S-rank represented the highest priority resource allocation across all channels—

simultaneous nationwide distribution, linked promotions across official media matrices, and the privilege for the printing house schedule to be jumped ahead of others.

Chairman Lu of the Shanghai Writers Association swallowed hard, breaking the dead silence.

"Chairman Zhou, this... isn't this a bit too high for a seventeen-year-old high school student?"

He chose his words carefully to express his concern,

"This child is indeed talented, and his writing is sophisticated.

But right now, he has only won the championship of 'Fu Zhi Yao Competition' and gained the qualification for a guaranteed university recommendation.

He hasn't officially participated in the 'Qinglan Project' yet, and he hasn't even entered the gates of Tsinghua or Peking University.

Giving him such a high specification directly—is it perhaps a bit too hasty?"

The Chairman of the Shenzhen Writers Association also followed suit:

"Yes, young people nowadays have unstable temperaments.

If the authorities rashly grant such an exaggerated tilt of resources, it could easily make him lose his way amidst premature flowers and applause. For a good prospect, this might not necessarily be a good thing."

The others also expressed their agreement one after another.

It wasn't that they didn't think highly of Lin Que, but rather that they valued this good prospect too much,

fearing that this kind of 'killing with praise' resource tilt would ruin a future literary giant.

Facing everyone's concerns and doubts, Zhou Wenyuan did not back down.

He slowly stood up, supporting himself with his hands on the table.

His body cast a heavy shadow under the ceiling lights of the conference room,

and his oppressive gaze swept through the screen, across every branch venue.

"Everyone, I understand your worries."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over each split screen.

"But have you ever thought about how long our Chinese Literary World has been silent?"

Zhou Wenyuan's voice was powerful and resonant, echoing in every branch venue.

"Every day we shout about discovering newcomers and cultivating successors.

But when a genius who can write about class folding, who can dissect the pain points of the era until they are bloody and raw, actually stands before us,

we are worried about whether he will be ruined by fame and fortune? What kind of logic is that!"

Zhou Wenyuan paused, then added emphasis to his tone.

"If he goes astray, that is his own lack of personal cultivation."

"But whether we as officials support him and give him enough face, that is the attitude of our China Writers Association toward genius!"

The meeting room was pin-drop silent; everyone was stunned by these words.

"Today's book signing was originally intended to be a whetstone we arranged for him.

And the result? Not only was he not crushed by the ten-million-level promotional storm, but he used that very wind to forcefully break through the market barriers!"

Zhou Wenyuan pointed at the data reports on the table.

"Today on the signing stage in Shanghai, this seventeen-year-old child said a sentence in front of all the media: dare to unsheathe your blade before the highest peak!

Since he has this sharp edge, we should give him a stage worthy of it."

He leaned forward with his hands on the table, setting the final tone.

"We want to send a clear signal to the whole society and the entire publishing industry:

Don't care about the author's age; don't look at his seniority.

As long as there is real substance in the writing, as long as your work stands tall, the authorities will dare to use real money to promote you!"

This grand and powerful speech completely shattered everyone's concerns.

Chairman Lu was silent for a few seconds.

He recalled the scene he had personally witnessed on the first floor of the bookstore during the day,

that seventeen-year-old youth sitting in the center of the empty signing stage, facing the crushing pressure of a ten-million-level great god without even a frown.

That kind of certainty didn't seem like the ignorant fearlessness of a youth, but more like the composure of someone who had already seen through the ending.

"I agree." Chairman Lu straightened his back.

"The Shanghai Writers Association will fully cooperate with the implementation of the S-rank promotion."

Gu Changfeng of the Jiangsu Provincial Writers Association put down his teacup:

"For a prospect brought out by our Su Province, we will naturally go all out."

The leaders of the other branch venues expressed their agreement one after another; there were no more objections.

Zhou Wenyuan nodded, picked up the signing pen on the table, and set his name on the resolution document.

An unprecedented S-rank reprint order was passed unanimously late that night.

...