Chapter 16

"Young lady, are you here to sell some news to the tabloid?"

As soon as she stepped through the doors of the tabloid office, a young man wearing a round-collared robe and a light gray rabbit-fur vest cupped his hands in a greeting. He appeared to be in his twenties, and although his smile was professional, it was pleasant and approachable.

He clearly took her for a commoner looking to sell a tip. After all, besides relying on their own reporters, tabloids also publicly solicited various bits of information from the populace, with rewards ranging from a dozen to several hundred copper coins depending on the sensationalism of the news.

Yang Manniang had already learned about the operational structure of the news bureaus from her younger brother, Yang Shilin. She knew this man was a floor manager, similar to a front-desk manager at a modern hotel or bank, specifically tasked with guiding guests and quickly assessing their needs.

Yang Manniang shook her head and said with a smile, "I am not here to sell news. May I ask how to address you, sir?"

"You are too kind, miss. My surname is Jiang. You may simply call me Manager Jiang."

The man was clearly well-trained. Despite the fact that Yang Manniang’s attire could be described as shabby, his tone remained as gentle as a spring breeze. However, there was a distinct sense of distance in that gentleness, showing he had no intention of engaging in idle chatter.

Manager Jiang asked once more, "Is there any way I can be of service to you, miss?"

"I wish to seek an audience with your proprietor. Could you please inform them for me?"

Seeing that he had no interest in building a rapport, Yang Manniang did not try to force it and went straight to the point.

"Do you have a calling card, miss?"

"Um... no. Please, Manager, help me out! I truly have a very important matter. I have an idea that could make the tabloid a lot of money. If I can just see the proprietor, whether it works out or not, I will certainly provide you with a satisfactory reward."

Yang Manniang’s eyes were sincere as she emphasized the word "important." She pressed her palms together, offering a quiet promise of a reward. Although she had no money now, she believed that if she could just see the proprietor, she could convince them, and the money—and the reward—would follow.

However, to Manager Jiang, her promise was not the least bit tempting. A young woman of her age should be busy with embroidery; what kind of "idea" could she possibly have? She was likely just playing pretend to try her luck. It was probably just some gossip she had picked up on the street that she deemed valuable, which might matter to a street reporter, but to Manager Jiang, let alone the head manager or the proprietor, it was nothing.

As for the reward, he took it even less seriously. Given her ragged appearance, she was likely from a poverty-stricken background and could hardly afford anything of substance.

It wasn't that Manager Jiang wanted to deliberately make things difficult for such a pitiable girl. In truth, while his proprietor was from a secondary branch of the family, that family was still very prominent in Bianjing, which was how they had the standing to run a tabloid in the capital. The proprietor had thirty or forty businesses in the city and was extremely busy, rarely having time to check on many of them.

Even for this tabloid, the proprietor only visited every few months, and when they did, they were always upstairs, occupied with the head manager. It was not someone just anyone could see. Even Manager Jiang himself only caught a glimpse of the proprietor from afar during the year-end awards; he had never been granted a private audience.

Manager Jiang didn't know how this young woman had heard that the proprietor was visiting today, but he absolutely would not report her presence. The proprietor was a very busy person. If he were to disturb them for such a trivial matter, even if the proprietor didn't mind, the head manager would certainly punish him later. Manager Jiang had a family to support and had no intention of losing this long-held job due to a moment of misplaced sympathy.

He flatly refused: "I am very sorry, miss. The proprietor never sees strangers."

No matter how hard Yang Manniang tried to pitch her case or plead, even settling for a request to see the head manager for just a moment, Manager Jiang remained unmoved, simply smiling and saying "no."

Yang Manniang felt helpless. She couldn't reveal her idea without seeing the person who could make decisions, as her concept was only a few words long and was her only bargaining chip. Yet, by keeping it to herself, she only made the man more certain that she was lying. It was a mercy he hadn't kicked her out already.

The result left her feeling dejected, though it was within reason. Just as in the modern world, if a poor boy who hadn't even finished middle school and worked as a factory laborer suddenly approached a department head saying he had a great R&D idea and wanted to see the CEO, the manager would likely think the boy had gone crazy.

Yang Manniang’s situation was even worse; she hadn't even worked as a "laborer" for the tabloid, yet she wanted to see the owner. By comparison, her request seemed even more whimsical.

Afterward, Yang Manniang left and visited the "News" tabloid next door. The result was predictably similar. They clearly didn't believe a young woman could offer anything that would increase their revenue—after all, this wasn't embroidery, and what use could a girl be? Their rejection was merely more polite: "Sorry, the proprietor is not in. Please come back another day."

Another failure. Yang Manniang did not linger; there was no point. Like the prominent households, these large tabloid offices were obsessed with social standing. People of the same class exchanged calling cards to build relationships and trade interests. Since she lacked a card, she was clearly not of their stratum. Without demonstrating sufficient value, how could she expect the upper echelons to condescend to see her?

After leaving, the empty-handed Yang Manniang began visiting other smaller outlets, such as the Zhang Tabloid, the Imperial Street Tabloid, and the Rainbow Bridge News. Though she knew the chances were slim, she decided to try anyway, hoping to make the three-copper carriage fare worth the effort.

But the results were much the same. They found it incredible and dismissed it as a bored girl’s prank. Some were willing to exchange a few words, while others were impatient and rudely told her to go home and do her needlework. Even when she produced her novel manuscript, no one cared to look. They didn't believe a girl could write anything worthwhile, instead mocking her and suggesting she try her luck at a bookstore. They wanted sensational news, not some "young lady's storybook."

Finally, the manager of the Imperial Street Tabloid unceremoniously had her escorted out.

Standing outside the bureau and looking toward the nearby Daxiangguo Temple, Yang Manniang felt a wave of depression. Getting her novel serialized in a tabloid was her last hope. If she couldn't get it published, or even get a meeting, she would have to go home and finish the manuscript. Bookstores required at least a hundred thousand characters before they would even consider a submission. That would take too long, and her household’s finances wouldn't survive.

After paying the rent the day after tomorrow, they would only have twenty-one copper coins left. Her and her brother’s wages wouldn't be paid for another half-month. If she didn't earn money today, they might be down to one meal a day for the next two weeks, or perhaps even run out of food entirely.

Could she really just go home like this? How would they live? How could she face her younger brother and sister? She had already spent the one hundred and eight copper coins they had saved over the years to buy paper, brushes, and ink. How was she supposed to explain that?

It was already midday. With a rumbling stomach, Yang Manniang walked through the bustling streets of Panlou South Street in a daze. The hawkers’ cries made her irritable. She rubbed her shoulder, which still ached from being shoved earlier, and looked up at the clear, blue sky.

Although she knew that seeking a serialization would be difficult, facing these rejections left her feeling frustrated. This was the only way she knew how to earn money. If she failed at this, was she destined to spend her life as a transmigrator stuck in a cramped, haunted rental room, unable to afford warm leather boots in winter, and eating coarse grain for the rest of her life?

She thought about the life she had been living and the hopeful eyes of her brother and sister when she left that morning. A fierce resolve sparked in her heart. She took a deep breath and gritted her teeth.

No! I will not give up like this!

Nine tabloids have rejected me. How many are left? Eight. If this one doesn't work, there’s the next. If that one fails, I’ll try another. Even if every single tabloid rejects me, I can go to the bookstores. If that fails, I’ll go to the entertainment quarters and pitch my book to the storytellers. As long as I persist, there will always be a way!

Yang Manniang clenched her fists in a gesture of encouragement, sweeping the gloom from her heart. *Let the storm come even harder!*

She jogged along the street, cheering herself on, her pace gradually becoming lighter. Before she knew it, she had arrived at Daxiangguo Temple. Rounding the wall at the back, she saw a two-story wooden building. It was antique and elegant, with five bold, black characters written in regular script on the plaque above the door:

"Vermilion Bird Gate Tabloid."

Yang Manniang looked up and read the name aloud.

*Wow! The tenth one. A new hope!*