I am a Big Player
Chapter 285 - 283. Elder Zhou’s Decision (Second Update)_1

Chapter 285: 283. Elder Zhou’s Decision (Second Update)_1

Dawn had just broken when Zhou Wumeng got out of bed, and he called Ren He to say, "Where are you? Let’s meet up to discuss something."

Who would have dared to imagine that Zhou Wumeng, a literary figure of such stature, would actually seek out a 16-year-old boy for a serious discussion early in the morning? Just the exposure of this incident alone would be enough for Ren He to become famous.

Since today was the weekend, Ren He pondered for a moment and said, "Why don’t you come over to my place, Elder? It so happens I can treat you to some delicacies you can’t normally find in the city," he said, and then he gave Elder Zhou his address. Elder Zhou had been unable to join them for the last potluck in the countryside, but had he came, the scene might have exploded...

When Elder Zhou arrived at Liu Hai Alley, he was momentarily stunned by the two distinguished stone lions in front of Ren He’s house. How could this kid be so rich?! He only knew that Ren He made quite a bit of money from writing, with just Kunlun bringing in over ten million, but this courtyard couldn’t be bought for just ten million or so.

No sooner had he walked in than Elder Zhou caught the scent of delicious food, with Ren He typing away furiously on his laptop in the courtyard. Elder Zhou was taken aback by the speed at which Ren He was typing, "You’re writing a novel?!"

"Yeah," said Ren He without looking up. He had been writing for nearly a month now, cranking out over 30,000 words an hour for three hours a day, just like walking. Sometimes, you find yourself walking unconsciously for a long time, your thoughts on other matters not affecting you at all. And that was the state Ren He was in—his memory flowed out effortlessly as his fingers struck the keys while his mind wandered elsewhere.

I wonder if this could be considered multitasking? It probably could.

But Elder Zhou, watching him type, was somewhat taken aback, "With that speed, can you keep up with the plot?"

"Sure can," Ren He said confidently.

"Sheesh," Elder Zhou hissed in amazement. This was a bit freakish; he really had never seen anyone write a novel at the speed of a stenographer before...

Knowing all too well how difficult writing could be, Elder Zhou found Ren He’s pace almost beyond belief, to the point he almost forgot what he had come here to discuss with Ren He.

At that moment, Uncle Fang came over with a tray, "Boss, the meal is ready."

However, on glancing up and spotting Elder Zhou, Uncle Fang was taken aback, "Aren’t you the one from the television... My daughter admires you greatly."

"Yes, Elder Zhou," said Ren He with a chuckle, surprised that Uncle Fang also knew Zhou. But it was hardly strange; Uncle Fang’s area wasn’t particularly poor, and they already had color TVs. Seeing Elder Zhou on the news wasn’t really that odd.

"Oh my, it really is Elder Zhou! Please enjoy the meal at your leisure and if it’s not enough, I’ll cook some more for you and the boss," Uncle Fang beamed, never having expected that his boss also knew a personality from the TV. This surely meant that his boss was somebody with quite a background, too—friends with Elder Zhou and even having celebrities as girlfriends... It was all too mysterious.

Zhou Wumeng calmly observed Ren He and eventually broke into a smile, "You actually have something of the air of those Republican-era literary giants now, with your own little courtyard in the hubbub of the city—serene yet not lacking in vitality, your own world within this space."

As he looked at Ren He sitting there, something struck him as different about his demeanor; it seemed as if Ren He had undergone a transformation. That change was like a muddy pool suddenly becoming much clearer, and his overall expression much brighter.

"Haha, stop flattering me," laughed Ren He, clicking ’save’ before setting his laptop aside, "Come, try Uncle Fang’s cooking. Authentic Capital farmhouse cuisine—it’s a nice break from all the rich food we’re used to at banquets. This is the place to clear your palette."

Zhou Wumeng looked over at the modest dishes and flatbreads on the stone table and sighed, "You’ve really managed to create an experience for yourself."

"Ah, come on. You’re able to stay in the mountains for so long, now that’s what I call an experience. I could barely handle 15 days," Ren He handed Elder Zhou a pair of chopsticks, "But you also need to take care of yourself. To say something you might not like to hear, even though the Qinghe Fund is still in my hands, there’s no way I have the energy to manage it. If you were to fall ill and not recover, who could I trust to hand it over to?"

This was actually Ren He’s biggest concern at the moment. Elder Zhou’s recent illness had been a wake-up call for Ren He. After all, the reason he could hand over the Qinghe Fund so unconcernedly was his faith in Elder Zhou’s character. But how many trustworthy people are there in the world?

As Elder Zhou wrapped his flatbread, he said, "Stop jinxing me. I came here today because there’s a serious matter to discuss."

"Go ahead," Ren He said with a chuckle.

"I’m planning to resign from Capital Journalism," Elder Zhou said seriously.

"What?" Ren He was shocked. Was it such a big deal? Elder Zhou had been the editor-in-chief of Capital Journalism Group for 17 years and had served as the chairman for 12 years. How could he just decide to resign?

And the biggest issue was, why discuss this matter with him? Who was he to confer with Elder Zhou on such a matter? He was simply not qualified.

"I’ve been with Capital Journalism Group for a very long time. Actually, I should have retired three years ago, but I kept postponing it. Now, the business at Qinghe Fund is so intricate that I no longer have the capacity to manage the affairs at Capital Journalism," Elder Zhou went on to say, "Last year, I spent the last three months in the mountains, and Capital Journalism Group was nearly in disarray. Now that I think about it, since I’ve found another cause to devote myself to, I shouldn’t cling to the past. It’s time to step down. With the remaining years of my life, I want to dedicate them to the mountainous areas, which are what I care about the most. However, I still have one doubt—can you really make the ’big picture’ you’ve painted a reality? If you can, then I’ll apply for retirement."

The biggest concern for Elder Zhou now was that if Ren He really could maintain a substantial and healthy fund for Qinghe Fund year-round, he clearly would not have enough energy for it; consequently, focusing on Qinghe Fund was inevitable.

Ren He thought for a moment and then said, "Are you serious?" He roughly understood Elder Zhou’s thinking.

"I’m serious."

"I can," said Ren He with conviction. "I’m sure it will be a global bestseller, and it will far exceed The Kite Runner. How much it exceeds, I really can’t explain right now—you’ll understand later. The two are not of the same genre or commercial value."

"Alright, then I’m reassured," Elder Zhou replied, and only at this moment did he stuff the hand-held pancake into his mouth, as if he’d be sure of himself as long as Ren He was sure.

Ren He felt somewhat bemused: "Putting such a big matter on me sure is a lot of pressure."

"Once I retire and step down from being the chairman, your book won’t go through Capital Journalism Group anymore. I’ll take care of it for you, and all the income will be considered part of Qinghe Fund," Elder Zhou said calmly. "Any extra penny that goes into Qinghe Fund to help those who truly need it is good."

Great, he had just decided to leave Capital Journalism Group and was already poaching. But then again, Ren He thought that if it really happened that way, it would be a good thing. Thirty percent of the income for Harry Potter was not a small amount.

"Done. I’ll also draft an operational plan for this book in my spare time. This operation isn’t just about culture anymore. Prepare yourself mentally; Qinghe Fund will have sponsors breaking down your door," Ren He said.

Zhou Wumeng didn’t know where Ren He’s confidence came from, but who would dare to believe that the 16-year-old boy in front of them was already the author of the nation’s best-selling book The Kite Runner and Kunlun...

Looking at Ren He’s youthful appearance, Elder Zhou felt sincerely envious. Ah, the prime of youth, how wonderful.

He laughed, "So, what should I call you after I focus solely on Qinghe Fund, boss? Proprietor? Haha!"

Uncle Fang was just bringing over some corn porridge and nearly dropped his bowl when he suddenly heard Elder Zhou call Ren He ’proprietor.’ He was reminded of Cui Qiang’s repeated admonitions: Don’t listen to what you shouldn’t hear, don’t ask what you shouldn’t ask, don’t say what you shouldn’t say...

The affairs of city folks are truly too complicated!

...

As usual, it’s time for a meal.