CHAPTER 116: CHAPTER 115 ASSASSINATION

The initial content of the first issue was mostly finalized; the next step was to delegate tasks.

Mu Qingmei had pretty good luck—she was assigned the role-playing write-up in the "Knowledge Discussion Zone." She, using a fictional identity, would provide detailed answers to three different topics.

But since it was everyone’s first time playing this sort of role-playing game, nobody had much experience. To help them get into character faster, Leyu had also prepared character cheat sheets for them—Mu Qingmei’s card was for "General Department Chief," a sickly but astoundingly skilled female swordsman who worked in Yanjing’s Patrol Execution Guard. She followed her captain in maintaining public order, her blade dispatching countless rebel souls, but she discovered that within the Guard, not everyone was righteous; some were utter scoundrels.

Mu Qingmei just needed a glance before she was hooked by the character: a loyal and just captain, the chaotic and confusing times, a sword that executed both the wicked and the good... "That feeling of ’wanting to kill someone but not knowing who,’ the ’determined to wipe out evil but powerless against fate’ kind of inner strife grabbed her instantly."

Normally she didn’t even read romance novels; she actually liked heroic tales like Fire God Chronicle and Thunderbolt Heroes, so it was easy for her to slip into a "General Department Chief" kind of character, someone straight out of those chivalric novels.

"After all, everyone’s been young once, everyone’s imagined themselves as the main character of the world. After finishing a novel, who hasn’t lain awake at night picturing themselves taking the story world by storm, seeking revenge and justice..." Now, given the chance to actually role-play, it was fresh and fun for them.

Of course, "after they’ve made up more than a dozen stories, they’d probably come back to themselves, cringing at their own adolescent delusions—just like those old otakus looking back at their own cringey younger selves." But Leyu didn’t care—in a newsroom this big, everyone took turns making up a dozen stories and you’d easily get dozens of issues’ worth of material.

As for the future... Whether the paper would even last dozens of issues was anyone’s guess.

The "Inspirational Stories" section was handled by a few seasoned (washed-up) middle-aged writing machines who were mostly in it for the cash (and keeping the lights on).

They’d written these brown-nosing narratives before, so it was effortless for them; they just had to switch perspectives a little.

They always knew they were writing brown-noser stories.

But for Leyu’s "capitalist stories," they had to make these bootlickers feel authentically "capitalist."

Previously, their writing was all about "having the correct worldview"—and in this day and age, having a loyal bootlicker’s values could be considered totally incorrect—Leyu’s requirement was to really "mess up the stance."

In short, Leyu wanted them to write with a real "You betrayed the working class, fuck you" vibe.

Granted, no way would they manage to cough up such forward-thinking masterpieces right off the bat, but Leyu was the editor-in-chief now!

What did it mean to be editor-in-chief?

"Take this back and rewrite according to these requirements,"

So, clearly, being an editor was way more fun than being a writer.

The "Absurd News" section, of course, was created just to sneak in some private goods. Leyu couldn’t just slap readers in the face with the real agenda from the start—first, let everyone tune in for the laughs, then gradually slip in gems like the "History of Chen She," "Run-tu and the Badger," and "Camel Xiangzi," under the pen names "Sima Qian," "Brother Xun," and "Lao She."

That way, if the Silver Blood Association ever started getting nosy and sent someone over to ask, Leyu could say, "Hey, it’s just for fun, Why so... why take things so seriously?"

If the first three columns were written with intent, the final serialized novel was actually Leyu’s experiment.

No need to explain the power of newspaper serials. Leyu hadn’t experienced it himself, but he’d heard how Grandpa Jin single-handedly boosted Ming Pao’s circulation, and in Huizhao and the like, newspaper serials had long been standard practice. Nobody batted an eye—in fact, if your rag didn’t have a novel, people wouldn’t even bother picking it up.

Originally, Leyu considered just... borrowing... adapting... spreading some classics from his original world, like Count of Monte Cristo, The Legend of the Condor Heroes, or Journey to the West.

But after thinking it through, he realized it wouldn’t work—he hadn’t reincarnated into ancient times, he had transmigrated into another world!

Even the cultural atmosphere wasn’t the same!

First of all, wuxia novels were out—here in Huizhao, there were actual Combat Technique warriors. No joke, Leyu felt that even if he wasn’t a match for Shaolin Monk, Dongfang Bubai, or Dugu Qiubai, he could probably go toe-to-toe with someone like Guo Jing or Yang Guo, no problem.

The martial prowess ceiling in Huizhao was way above Jin Yong’s wuxia, slightly below Huang Yi’s stuff, so writing a wuxia would just feel unnecessary—might as well make it xuanhuan. Plus, there were already a zillion wuxia novels in this world—Fire God Chronicle was still running hot!

As for writing xuanhuan... Journey to the West was fair game, and even Battle Through the Heavens could work.

But there was a serious problem.

"Leyu couldn’t actually recreate them."

Getting transmigrated was already pretty damn impressive, and having a system panel plus "Die and Substitute" cheat was already wild—he didn’t have a photographic memory or the ability to recall every detail of his previous world’s literature.

As for things like "History of Chen She," "Camel Xiangzi," "Run-tu and the Badger," and "Xianglin’s Wife," Leyu certainly couldn’t recapture a great author’s style, but those were short stories! "All he needed was to grab the main theme, cobble the plot together, and let people get sucker punched by society while thinking they were just in it for fun, and that was enough."

But a long-form novel? No dice.

Forget Journey to the West or Legend of the Condor Heroes—even Battle Through the Heavens was out of Leyu’s reach. Style, pacing, lived experience... "for a hack who’s had one 800-word piece go semi-viral, none of that was in his wheelhouse."

Mr. Wu Cheng’en could write stories about "Sun, Wu, and Kong"—Leyu suspected he could only write about some underworld boss trying to go straight.

Plus, no one in Huizhao was illiterate—if they didn’t read novels, they heard them as oral stories, having already soaked up tons of homegrown classics. Leyu wasn’t even sure if the classics from his previous world would catch on here.

"So after turning it over, Leyu figured copying note by note would only end up self-defeating—it was better to try some high-concept stuff."

He was going to write a story nobody had ever seen!

Nobody’s done transmigration before, right? Nobody’s seen rebirth, right? Nobody’s heard of a future world, right?

"Three dead people reincarnating into a future world—bet you haven’t seen that before!"

On top of that, when other people wrote about the future, it was all imagination, but Leyu had actually transmigrated from the future. "If nothing else, he could at least write what’s ’real’; the story would be airtight, plus he could relive the sweetness and bitterness of the past, reminiscing about that time when you could spend all day online."

Whether "authenticity sells" in this era, Leyu had no idea.

He had the plotlines mapped out: the cold and ruthless "Qian Yuliu," hellbent on returning to reunite with his sister; "Hidden Yin," a once-assassin once more alive who just wanted a quiet life; and "Zhengwei," ruthless and ambitious, eager to make it big in the new world...

The prototypes for these three characters, naturally, were Qian Yuliu, Yin Yinin, and Jing Zhengwei. "Maybe because he had all their memories, Leyu could plot out their reincarnation stories as smoothly as taking a dump."

No one, absolutely no one, knew these three better than him.jpg

He could practically picture Qian Yuliu turning into a high school senior, working his ass off to ace college entrance exams, all so he could research physics and invent a time machine; childhood sweethearts, cute upperclasswomen, sultry lady teachers continually tested his resolve—the academic, inspirational storyline.

Meanwhile, Yin Yinin became a stay-at-home single dad, just trying to earn money for baby formula in peace, but somehow got entangled with a movie star, a lady cop, an entrepreneur—off to the races, entertainment slice-of-life arc.

Jing Zhengwei? Loaded up all his savings and dove into the stock market, got pummeled by the era’s crooks, decided to use his fighting skills to conquer the underworld, then got whacked by the police, stumbled into MLMs, P2P scams, crypto—comedic financial arc.

"Leyu had no idea whether this novel would ever amount to anything."

Maybe nobody would read it—even if people did, maybe it’d just make for a casual laugh.

"Can a bright vision of the future really force people to reflect on the brutality of the present?"

Leyu never imagined being a writer who’d shape the moral world—he just thought that maybe, just maybe, something miraculous might be born.

"What if?"

Actually, writing a rebirth story wasn’t Leyu’s first choice. He’d wanted to plagiarize the epic rise of modern revolution from his previous world. But that history was just too damn legendary—thirteen people shaking the world! Leyu figured nobody would buy that, so he gave up.

With those matters handled, everyone got busy hustling, and Leyu could finally go play cards—writing could wait until the evening. No inspiration during the day anyway.

Every time he went to the Battle Card parlor, he’d go alone, switching outfits and skulking around. Mi Die and Lisan naturally would not tag along.

But Leyu had no idea that, the instant he left the newsroom, someone started reporting his movements up the chain.

"He’s here."

On the road from the newsroom to the Battle Card parlor, all the alleyways on the street were already crawling with Yitian Gang’s second-largest crew of underworld thugs.

And within a distant teahouse with a perfect view of that street, a young man with vividly red hair, clad in a crescent-black shirt, toasted the Yitian Gang’s number-two boss, "Once Jing Zhengwei is taken care of, I’ll arrange for you to leave Xuanzhu County and lay low. Once the Jing Patriarch’s power struggle is settled, you can return to the Qin Family as a senior officer."

"Thank you, Young Master Qin." The second boss raised his cup in delight and drained it, "But, Young Master Qin, aren’t you investing a bit too much in this brother-in-law of yours...?"

This red-haired youth was none other than the Qin family’s eldest son, Qin Leyin. He chuckled, "What can I do? Our Qin family only has one precious daughter, and for her lifelong happiness, for Jing Zhengwu to get the patriarch’s seat, I’ve got no choice but to use you as my secret weapon... You did send your family away in advance, right? After Jing Zhengwei’s dead, the Silver Blood Association’s pride will demand the Yitian Gang be wiped out in turn."

"Already handled." The second boss said, "Plus, there are two masters among the ambushers—unless something goes horribly wrong, Jing Zhengwei is finished this time."

"Good." Qin Leyin said coolly, "Jing Zhengwei is sharp-minded and cunning—I have no idea how many ace cards he’s still hiding. We need to crush him before he can gain momentum, or else... Hm?!"

At that moment, they saw something odd happening to Jing Zhengwei just as he was about to enter the ambush sphere.

...

...

For some reason, Leyu started feeling like he was being watched, right as he left the newsroom.

After walking for a while, the feeling of surveillance only got more intense. In the past, Leyu might have shrugged it off as paranoia, but in this world, people actually had spiritual power. In fact, Leyu’s Spiritual Power had survived the tribulation and was stronger than most Martial Artists—naturally, that meant this feeling wasn’t just in his head. "Someone really was watching him!"

He stopped, suddenly aware that the alley was nearly deserted. He took this shortcut to the Battle Card house specifically because people rarely used it, but now he was sure something was off.

"Come out! I already know you’re there!" Leyu shouted loudly.

The alley was dead quiet; only Leyu’s voice echoed around, making him feel like an idiot.

"Fine, stay hidden then," Leyu took a step back, ready to bolt, "I already know who you are. You really dare tail me? I’m heading straight to Jing Family’s ace assassin squad—I’ll have your whole damn family hacked up tonight—"

"You wouldn’t dare!"

Footsteps and a shout burst out from behind. Leyu spun around—and froze—

The one following him? None other than Mu Qingmei, exuding murderous intent!