The big rivers and lakes that attack

Chapter 1103 Is there a New Evening News?
Meng Wanqing was taken aback for a moment, and felt that it made sense, so she didn't say anything more.

Then, Li Dao commented on the other squadron leaders, and by the way, he also praised the adaptability of some squadron leaders, emphatically drawing the names of a few people.

Said that several team leaders, including Jiang Wei, and the deputy team leader can focus on cultivation.

"These people, they are not much worse than the people of our sect. They just lack a chance to perform, so they have been doing nothing for a long time. We should achieve 'eclectic talent'..."

Meanwhile, he was quite surprised by Zheng Baming's arrest.

Frowning, he asked, "Wan'er... isn't hurt?"

Meng Wanqing said: "Oh, I should have suffered some injuries. Zheng Baming was on the ninth rank in a short period of time, and there should be blood marquis in it. Sister Wan'er's battle with him is too much to bear, and he is not Sword cultivator, injury is unavoidable."

"Bullshit!"

Li Dao cursed, sat on the chair with a sullen face and said nothing, worried about Jiang Wan's situation in his heart.

Of course, I also know what Jiang Wan is thinking in her heart, but she just wants to avenge her shame, and then she thinks that the seventh grade of Xiaochu can beat the ninth grade to tears, why can't she?

But what Xiaochu was facing was a sword cultivator, and the disciples of the Sword Field naturally had an advantage in this aspect, and it was reasonable to beat the opponent's hands and feet.

What is Jiang Wan?Who gave such great confidence, dared to use the weight of the eighth rank to seek revenge on the ninth rank... Well, it was me.

Li Dao sighed helplessly, and asked, "Wan'er, how is it?"

"According to Xiang Qilong's report, after they captured Zheng Baming, sister Wan'er ran away. I thought she would come back here..."

Li Daoxin said, it's strange that she dared to come back, maybe she went somewhere to recuperate...

He snorted angrily, then looked at other documents, and commented on each squadron and team of the Special Service one by one.

At a certain moment, Meng Wanqing let out a breath and said, "Haoran, it's late at night..."

After she said this, the sound of a rooster crowing came from outside, and it was dawn.

Meng Wanqing's expression was rather awkward, but she still said, "Hao Ran, you are too tired, go to sleep for a while."

Li Dao took a long breath, put down the documents, blew out the candle, and said with a smile, "Okay."

then……

"Brother Haoran, I've been busy all night and I haven't showered yet... No, no... I'm going to lead the special service team later... to open up the Feitian River^"

"It's okay, it's not too late..."

……

On the fourth day of December, the sky was bright.

People in Zhongdu wake up one after another, and if conditions are good, they can't help but go to the nearby food stalls to get their breakfast.

There are also those who are not in good condition, and they will drink whatever they have at home early in the morning to fool their stomachs.

People who eat in the breakfast shop naturally don't care about the three melons and dates for buying a newspaper. Most of them think that it is only the authority of the "Daily".

Or someone asked in a low voice: "Is there a New Evening News?" and so on.

Most of the newspaper sellers waved their hands and said no. By the way, do you want a copy of Entertainment News and Business News?
The three literati, old, middle-aged and young, of Qinglong Road gathered together again, and commented on the current situation while drinking eight-treasure lotus porridge in the breakfast shop.

The old scribe said: "In Zhongdu, there is no chance for literati to speak out."

The young scribe sneered, and said, "It's the "Daily" that has the final say, and the other newspapers are just echoing it. I submitted an article, and what I said was all recent things, about unclean monks, but nothing came to light."

The middle-aged scribe looked around and did not speak.

The old scribe noticed his strangeness and asked, "Why, you look a little strange today?"

The young man Wenshi echoed: "Yes, I saw it too."

Seeing this, the middle-aged scholar put down his bowl and chopsticks, and said in a low voice: "I have submitted an article to the New Evening News, and I have received a response. My article is published...the manuscript fee is quite a lot!"

The old and the young were shocked when they heard this.

The old man whispered: "Do you have connections?"

The young man also asked: "Is the New Evening News reliable? It's really a newspaper run by Mrs. Mei..."

But at this moment, a very clean-dressed young newsboy walked into the breakfast shop with a smile on his face, but the sign of "Orphanage" on his chest had been removed.

The boy came in, still selling various newspapers.

The eyes of the three scribes lit up, and they hurriedly called the young man over.

The young man saluted respectfully: "Three masters, we meet again..."

The old scribe smiled and said, "It's rare, you still remember us waiting."

The young man said: "The three masters spent a lot of money, and even took care of the younger one's delicious meal. The villain will naturally remember it. What newspapers do the three masters want to read? The younger ones brought them all."

The middle-aged scribe asked, "New Evening News, is there?"

The boy's face froze, and he shook his head dejectedly: "No."

The young scribe asked anxiously: "Why not? Aren't you from Xuanwu Dao?"

"The Department of Public Security refuses to sell it. All the "New Evening News" have been confiscated by them. What can I do..."

The young man said this with a grievance on his face, and complained by the way: "Today, many customers asked if there is a "New Evening News", and I have no business."

Seeing him like this, the middle-aged scribe saw his careful thinking, and said with a low laugh: "Brother, don't be cautious, if you have one, you can sell us one, just one, and the three of us will read it together."

As he spoke, he quietly stuffed two gold bahts into the boy's pocket.

"No, really not, they were all searched by the Department of Public Security..."

The young man looked around vigilantly, although he said so, but when he left while shaking his head, a roll of newspaper fell out of his trouser leg.

Seeing this, the middle-aged scribe quickly picked up the newspaper, typed it up and looked around, and saw the words "New Evening News" written on the lace.

The middle-aged scribe didn't care about other things, he glanced at it briefly, then hurriedly searched for his own article, and finally found it in the lower right corner of the third page, and the space was not too small.

He proudly pushed the newspaper to the two friends, saying: "This is the article, you two have a look at it."

The two of them read the newspaper, and the old scribe nodded as he read it: "Not bad, not bad, it is indeed written by my virtuous brother. This editorial is wonderfully written, and the comments are also in place... By the way, how much is the salary?"

The middle-aged scribe extended a slap and waved it in front of him.

"Fifty?"

"Five hundred gold!"

"so much?"

"I also found an acquaintance. I used to have a friendship with a reporter from Huabao. He knew how to contribute to the New Evening News."

While talking, the middle-aged scribe poured himself a glass of water, then smiled and said:

"He told me that because people didn't know how to submit articles, there was a shortage of manuscripts in the New Evening News, so I gave him my article with the attitude of giving it a try, as a test."

(End of this chapter)