Madmen don't keep diaries

Chapter 153 152 Source of Communication
There was one thing Feng Xiuhu didn't understand.

"It sounds like the messenger is just a middleman, making a profit from the difference - then why doesn't the tongue just sell the news directly to the newspaper?"

Mike smiled slightly, as if he had known Feng Xiuhu would ask this question: "Because news is time-sensitive."

"Just imagine, if there was any news, everyone would rush to the newspaper office. Could the newspaper office accommodate so many people at the same time?"

"Besides, only firsthand information is valuable. The first person to arrive will sell the news, and the second person who arrives a step later will have made a wasted trip. What if they act like a scoundrel and cause trouble at the newspaper office?"

"Secondly, when people spread rumors, they usually do so quietly, and it's not convenient for them to show up at the newspaper office."

Feng Xiuhu suddenly realized, "So messengers are not only middlemen, but also have the responsibility of screening and compiling gossip."

Mike snapped his fingers. "It also takes on the risk of timeliness for the tongue. You can simply think of a messenger as a half-reporter—except that formal reporters get a monthly salary from the newspaper, and we don't."

After listening for a while, the man with the chicken coop hair came over and said, "You're dreaming. If you also get paid monthly, then will we still do this?"

"We journalists aren't paid like white-collar workers. We have to write articles every day and run around to interview people. We're exhausted. But you messengers can earn money just by delivering a piece of news from time to time."

At this moment, the office door opened and an editor stood at the door and waved to Mike: "Qian Guangtong, this!"

Mike responded and trotted over.

Feng Xiuhu heard their conversation.

The editor said, "It's a good thing you're here. You're from the church. Please help me review this manuscript and see if there's anything I need to change. If there's any inside information, please share it with me. I'll give you the highest price..."

They were still talking about what happened in the church today.

Feng Xiuhu was left aside and started wandering around on his own.

A stack of newspapers on the table attracted Feng Xiuhu's attention.

It was mainly because of the shocking words on it that made him unable to take his eyes away: The Bloody Case on Shengren Street! The love-hate relationship between Crazy Tiger and Ni Shicai!

Feng Xiuhu's eyelids twitched violently.

He picked it up and saw that it was yesterday's newspaper.

Looking at the table again, there is another unique newspaper underneath this newspaper.

The date displayed is from an earlier time.

The title on it was also unbearable to read - A few things that must be said about the crazy tiger and the beautiful bear.

By hard, I mean fist.

Feng Xiuhu took the newspaper and continued reading.

The following newspapers were published even earlier, but almost every one of them had Feng Xiuhu's name on it, and the headlines were equally outrageous.

Neighborly harmony! The source of the fragrance that wafts ten miles from Bibo Street is actually a mad insect?

A raging fire! The forbidden love story between a mad bug and a scale scraper!
Beauty is a disaster! For a woman, Feng Xiuhu and Yuan Laoda make a life-or-death gamble!
Brothers in arms kill each other! Feng Xiuhu and He Dage fight for seats on the stage and kill each other!
Feng Xiuhu took a deep breath. He probably knew why he was so famous in Shangcheng even though he rarely came there.

A man with a chicken-coop hair passed by with a teacup in his hand, glanced over, and asked with a smile, "Do you also like to read news about Crazy Bug?"

"hehe."

Feng Xiuhu had a blank expression on his face: "Have you paid the appearance fee for writing like this?"

The man with the chicken-coop hair immediately felt as if his professional ethics had been insulted, and he started arguing with Feng Xiuhu: "What do you mean by writing nonsense? Do you understand journalism?"

"Journalism is all about facts. We tell the truth as it is. We just polish it up a little and add art to it. Do you understand what art is?"

"don't know."

Feng Xiuhu grinned and reached for his lower back. "But we can discuss this in depth."

Suddenly, someone behind him held down Feng Xiuhu's arm.

came a familiar voice.

"Sir, I have a few questions for you regarding today's tragedy at the Upper Town Cathedral."

Feng Xiuhu looked back and saw that the man was wearing a cotton hat, a plaid vest over a shirt, and holding a pen and a small notebook in his hands, ready to take notes.

The outfit wasn't familiar, but the face was.

Feng Xiuhu was stunned: "You..." He blinked hard and said in surprise: "No, why are you here?"

It turned out to be the coachman!
The driver smiled shyly: "Hey, you actually recognized me."

Feng Xiuhu grabbed him by the collar and said, "I'm not fucking blind!"

The driver waved his hand and explained, "Don't get excited, sir. Who doesn't want to make more money?"

Feng Xiuhu put him down and asked suspiciously, "Does this mean you work here?"

The driver smiled apologetically, "I'm just a part-time messenger, earning some hard-earned money."

Now it all makes sense - how did the nickname Crazy Bug spread throughout Fan City overnight?

He rustled the newspaper in his hand and said with a smile, "Are all these manuscripts written by you?"

The driver was a little embarrassed: "They are all clumsy works, not worth mentioning."

"You're still serializing it."

Feng Xiuhu smiled with relief and asked him, "What's your name?"

The driver asked cautiously, "What's wrong?"

Feng Xiuhu began to roll up his sleeves: "You've written so much about me, so I'll write something for you—I'll personally engrave the words on your tombstone later."

The driver grabbed Feng Xiuhu's hand and said, "That's too much trouble! I remember I have something else to do, so I'll be leaving now."

He tried to pull away, but Feng Xiuhu quickly grabbed the driver's sleeve and laughed fiercely: "I'll give you a ride!"

"You're too kind!"

The driver struggled hard, and with a "swish", half of his sleeve was grasped in Feng Xiuhu's hand. The driver got into the crowd and moved out quickly.

Feng Xiuhu pushed aside the people blocking the way in the narrow aisle and squeezed forward, but the coachman was like a slippery loach and ran out the door in a moment.

When Feng Xiuhu chased out, there was no trace of the coachman on the street.

Feng Xiuhu put his hands on his hips and looked around, breathing out anger through his nostrils.

Mike, who heard the noise, followed out and asked anxiously, "What happened? Who did you fight with again?"

Feng Xiuhu felt that Mike had misunderstood him: "What do you mean by 'again'?"

Mike slapped his lips and said, "Just ignore me—who provoked you again?"

Feng Xiuhu squatted down angrily, took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, gnashing his teeth and saying, "The leader of the anti-fans."

"WTF?"

Mike thought he had misheard and squatted down as well.

Feng Xiuhu waved his hands, not bothering to explain: "I'm so angry that I'm hungry. Let's find a place to eat lunch."

Mike asked, "What do you want to eat?"

Feng Xiuhu said unhappily, "I'm not from Shangcheng, how would I know what's delicious there?"

As soon as he said that, he remembered again - he actually knew one.

The last time Xiong Guiyuan came to deliver something to her trustee’s home, her name was written on the food box containing the pastries.

"Mei Xiang Dim Sum House."

Feng Xiuhu read it out.

Even Xi Yaoer, who was at odds with Xiong Guiyuan, had to admit that the pastries were delicious, which showed that the craftsmanship of this shop was indeed good.

Mike nodded and said, "This store is indeed quite famous. How about walking?"

"Walk."

Feng Xiuhu stood up.

(End of this chapter)