555: Chapter 554 The Opening Net

When the two words "Xinrong" were dropped, Shen Jiangping's expression changed immediately.

In the entire publishing circle, anyone who doesn't know Xinrong Culture is either new to the industry or has no intention of going far on this path.

The brand of Xinrong Culture has dominated the publishing circle for over thirty years.

Its foundation dates back to the 1980s; it started as an institution specializing in academic publishing, then expanded through mergers and acquisitions, eventually consolidating distribution, copyright, and film/television adaptation into one package.

Almost all the authors they nurture are mature.

A collaboration of five or six years is considered short; for some key authors, a single contract has been renewed for twenty years.

This kind of accumulation is built layer by layer over time, making it hard for outside hot money to catch up.

Xinrong has always avoided the "dirty work" of chasing hot topics.

It only keeps an eye on authors who can consistently stand their ground. Once it confirms someone has weight, it brings down contracts, channels, copyrights, and adaptations all at once.

That is why the name Xinrong does not appear on the registration list for this Kunpeng Youth Award.

It is not entering the fray for now, but it will certainly see clearly who is worth taking away.

Shen Jiangping understood this clearly.

Xinrong's core authors are at least thirty-five years old, having long crossed the threshold for the Kunpeng Youth Award.

Even if there are young people among their peripheral collaborations, they cannot reach Xinrong's real poker table.

Moreover, Xinrong's helmsman, Zheng Shaohong, has been in publishing for so many years that he has long passed the stage of needing awards to prove the value of his platform.

Shen Jiangping silently went over these points and said:

"The people from Xinrong are not in this Youth Award, right?"

President Zhao nodded.

"But that doesn't mean they aren't watching."

This sentence made Shen Jiangping silent for a few seconds.

Xinrong has always been patient when observing young authors.

It first looks at whether the works can consistently stand, then whether the author can handle fame and fortune, and only then does it offer a long-term contract.

This strategy is the exact opposite of Huanyu Publishing Group; Huanyu Publishing Group's logic is to place bets and lay out plans in advance, and if they bet on the right one, they can reap the benefits for many years.

Both paths have their own dangers.

President Zhao suddenly asked a question.

"Do you think the people from Xinrong have already noticed this batch of students from the Program?"

Shen Jiangping's hand paused on the edge of the table.

He thought for two seconds and said honestly:

"With their current momentum, there's no reason they wouldn't have noticed."

President Zhao did not respond, just finished the last half cup of tea.

The light outside the window did not change.

It was just that both of them had thought through an unspoken matter in this silence.

Shen Jiangping pushed aside the anxiety that had been weighing on his heart and brought the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"President Zhao, those are matters for later. Now the reputation of qin opera is clearly on the rise, Sun Qiming has entered the fray with a long review, the voices of real readers cannot be suppressed, and the Dream Weaver's traffic is still bringing people in."

He tapped his fingers on the edge of the table, one by one.

"In this situation, how do I fight now?"

President Zhao placed the teacup on the tray without rushing to speak.

He stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, turned his back to Shen Jiangping, and took in the entire night view.

Streetlights extended row by row from downstairs, illuminating several wide streets clearly.

This city is not quiet after nightfall; there is always traffic moving, and those lights switching on and off on schedule always remind everyone that someone is always watching here.

President Zhao watched for a few seconds before speaking:

"The only thing you can move now is the author page on Kunpeng Net."

The muscles on Shen Jiangping's face twitched, and he didn't speak immediately.

President Zhao continued:

"Regarding the call Mr. Jiang made to you today, I estimate he is not the only one with this thought. The effective reading completion rate of your three or two things in jincheng is nearly forty percentage points lower than qin opera. Heat can be packaged, reviews can be guided, but once this number enters the Writers Association backend, no one in the judges' seats dares to pretend they don't see it."

Something blocked Shen Jiangping's throat, and he didn't make a sound.

President Zhao turned around, looked at him for a moment, and there was no sarcasm in his tone, only judgment.

"The connections with the judges are still there; you can use them when necessary. But you have to give them a reason they can use."

He walked back to the table and picked up the report.

"Go write a creative essay and post it on your author homepage on Kunpeng Net. Don't play the victim, don't attack anyone, just clearly explain the origin, research, character prototypes, and your writing changes over the past few years for three or two things in jincheng. The text cannot be changed; the only thing left that can be patched is the reader entrance."

Shen Jiangping listened to these words, his brain turning, and the expression on his face grew increasingly heavy.

He understood.

Writing a creative essay is not difficult.

What is difficult is bowing his head.

The previous winner of the Kunpeng Award was just pushed into a corner by the reader completion rate, and now he has to come out personally to explain why he is worth reading to the end.

Furthermore, the shortlist for the Kunpeng Award Semifinals must be announced within seventy-two hours after the public open day ends.

The time he has to act is even shorter than he thought.

President Zhao seemed to know what he was thinking; he didn't go any deeper, just added one sentence.

"As for Chu Pengshu, tell him to ease up on his efforts."

Shen Jiangping looked up at him.

"Continue posting articles?"

"You can continue, but change the direction."

President Zhao put the report back in its place.

"Before, it was about dissecting the technical problems of the Program; now the public opinion has changed, and continuing to fight like that will only make it look too desperate. Let him talk about rules, mechanisms, and the cultivation of young authors. The voice must stand on public ground; you can't let people see that he is blocking knives for you."

Shen Jiangping understood and nodded.

Just as Shen Jiangping was about to stand up, President Zhao pressed down on the report.

The corner of the page was resting right on the words "New Tide traces."

President Zhao pressed on the report, his fingertips not moving away for a long time.

When he spoke again, his voice was lower than before.

"There have been rumors outside that Lin Que and Jian Shen have an unusual relationship."

Shen Jiangping paused slightly against the back of his chair.

"People in the circle often mention this."

"But when you think about it, both of them came out of Jiangcheng, so it's not strange that they know each other."

He paused, as if remembering something.

"By the way, there is also a group of people spreading rumors that Lin Que is actually Jian Shen's apprentice."

President Zhao did not answer this; he just stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the lights outside, and was silent for a few seconds.

Then he spoke slowly.

"Whether it's New Tide or Jian Shen, they have spent so much effort raising so many good seedlings one by one."

His voice was quiet enough in this room, and every word fell clearly.

"If Lin Que is also on that line."

"If Jian Shen really wants to put Lin Que on his own line, why would he dare to let so many newcomers enter the Kunpeng Award at the same time? Isn't he worried about them competing for the same path?"

Shen Jiangping's back slowly went cold.

He finally understood President Zhao's meaning.

If Lin Que is really Jian Shen's person, then in this Kunpeng Youth Award, Lin Que competing at the front, Jian Shen behind the scenes, the Dream Weaver bringing real readers to the Kunpeng Award, and the batch of newcomers raised in advance by New Tide are suddenly strung together by an invisible line.

They thought they were encircling and suppressing a student recommended to Qingbei.

But at this moment, for the first time, Shen Jiangping felt that they might have already stepped into a spread net.

Shen Jiangping's Adam's apple bobbed.

"President Zhao, what do you mean?"

President Zhao did not answer immediately.

He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the lights all over the capital.

After a long time, he spoke slowly.

"I'm just wondering."

"How much of those rumors were actually guessed correctly."

Shen Jiangping did not ask again.

The office quieted down again.

President Zhao was still standing with his back to him, not speaking anymore, just looking at the lights, letting this question hang in the room.