Rebirth 04: Starting from Taking an Unconventional Approach

Zhang Ruiyi's laughter pierced through the incessant chatter, the creaking of the trimmer, and the bustling sounds of family members and nurses in the inpatient garden.

"...Back then we were rushing to meet deadlines," Han Baohua said. "Your father insisted on writing the editor's note in parallel prose. I told him that readers these days don't care about that anymore, but he wouldn't listen. One night I saw him asleep on the table, his face pressed against the manuscript paper. When he woke up, there was a line of printed words imprinted on his face."

"What character is it?"

"Hard work and struggle".

Zhang Ruiyi burst into laughter. Han Fei smiled.

Han Baohua seemed to have regained his energy; his cheeks were much rosier, and his eyes were bright. He held a cup of lotus leaf tea in his hand and had a cervical massager on his neck. Zhang Ruiyi had bought both of these items on the way.

"So many years have passed in the blink of an eye," Han Baohua said, gazing at the ginkgo trees in the garden. "Back then, Director Zhang and I were from different industries—one at the publishing house, the other at the post office—but we were brought together by a single book. When I have free time, I often think about how words build bridges. Bridges are for people to come and go; they're usually just crossed over and over. But I never expected that the bridge wouldn't collapse, and the people wouldn't scatter. Now it's your generation's turn to stand on this bridge. That's wonderful. In this life, there aren't many things we can leave behind. The bluebird is still here, the people are still here, and you young people are still moving forward. That gives me more peace of mind than anything else."

Han Fei and Zhang Ruiyi exchanged a glance. Zhang Ruiyi raised her eyebrows.

Han Fei squatted down next to Han Baohua: "Dad, now you don't have to worry about the publishing house anymore, right?"

"With you here, what do I have to worry about?" Han Baohua chuckled a few times and took a sip of tea.

"Then you should rest and recover. The doctor told me a while ago that we could upgrade the treatment plan, which would be more effective and improve your quality of life. We'll start trying it in the next few days."

"Hmm..." Han Baohua said hesitantly, "Don't spend too much money on me."

Han Fei squeezed Han Baohua's left hand with his right hand and stood up: "Alright, Dad. You don't need to worry about the money."

Han Baohua nodded, took a few more sips of tea, and then looked at Han Fei: "What are your plans next?"

Han Fei sighed and smiled helplessly: "Dad, I promised myself I wouldn't worry, but I'm still a little uneasy."

"I'm not worried," Han Baohua chuckled a few times, "I'm just a little curious. When you first brought this up with me, I found it fascinating how interesting young people's thoughts are. I did have a slight doubt—would what you're doing tarnish Qingniao's reputation? But I quickly realized that your father's reputation in this life wasn't built by clinging to the old ways, but by the people willing to read our books. If millions of people are willing to read the stories you're telling, and they don't think we've tarnished our reputation, why should I?"

Zhang Ruiyi looked at Han Fei, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Okay," Han Fei said. "My first step is to continue expanding the SP (Service Provider) channel. Today's data is just the beginning; we've already used up all the usable numbers we have. So, the next step is to expand our network for acquiring phone numbers. There are dozens of towns around Shanghai, and each town has a China Mobile branch. These branches have a large number of numbers accumulating. They don't know how to monetize them, and they don't dare to send them out indiscriminately like scam text messages. I can provide them with a compliant way to monetize them."

"But those mobile phone service centers are spread out over such a wide area, how can you possibly get your hands on every single number?"

"I can find an agent," Han Fei said. "On the way here, I was thinking about the shop owner who helped me get the first batch of numbers. He's chubby, quick-witted, and not greedy. He knows many people in the industry. I can offer him a deal: I'll give him a 500 yuan commission for every 10,000 numbers he gets. He doesn't have to pay out of pocket; he just acts as an intermediary, earning money for each number he introduces."

"This is leveraging external resources."

"Yes. It's not just him; every branch in every district can develop agents. I don't need to travel all over the city myself; I just need to design a clear incentive mechanism."

Han Baohua nodded slowly.

"And the second step?" Zhang Ruiyi interjected.

Han Fei took a breath and looked at Han Baohua: "The second step is to support offline operations. After all, Qingniao is, in a way, a physical publishing house."

Han Baohua's thick eyebrows twitched slightly: "You plan to use these novels to launch a counterattack against print media?"

"Yes, because traditional bookstores, newsstands, and even supermarket shelves still need magazines. There is still a large market for physical magazines."

Han Baohua nodded, twirling the teacup between his hands. He gazed thoughtfully at Han Fei for a while before speaking, "So you're thinking of compiling popular novels that have already been validated online into a print magazine."

"I've already thought of the name and format. It will be called 'Bluebird: Special Issue on New Rural Fiction.' It will be a monthly publication, priced at around five yuan. All the content will be selected from the top twenty works on the online paid charts. The cover will feature the original illustration of the most popular work, along with the promotional tagline '20 paid subscribers on Mobile Dream Network.'"

Han Baohua finished his tea and a satisfied smile returned to his face: "I believe that under your leadership, Qingniao will surely stand strong."

Just then, they heard a heavy cough. Han Fei turned around and saw a white-haired man in a black shirt standing outside the side door of the inpatient department.

The man was bent over, covering his chest with his hands, so Han Fei could not see his face clearly.

The man coughed so violently that those standing next to him instinctively moved away.

"What's wrong with him?" Zhang Ruiyi asked.

"He looks very uncomfortable," Han Baohua said. "Xiao Fei, go see if you need to call a doctor."

Han Fei nodded and walked towards the man, but when he was halfway there, the man stretched out a hand and waved at him.

"Are you alright, uncle?" Han Fei asked without stopping.

"Leave me alone!" the man suddenly roared, his voice hoarse, startling everyone around him, and several pairs of eyes turned to him.

Han Fei stopped in his tracks.

The man remained bent over, then slowly turned around and staggered away.

Han Fei shrugged, then turned his head and saw Zhang Ruiyi's eyes widen in surprise.

"That person is so strange," Zhang Ruiyi said.

"He's probably not in a good mood," Han Fei said, noticing that Han Baohua was still staring in the direction the man had been standing, his eyes unblinking. "What's wrong, Dad?"

"It's nothing, I just felt that person's figure looked a bit familiar." Han Baohua smiled. "Hey, that's how it is when you get old, everyone looks familiar."

"Are you tired, Dad?" Han Fei said. "I'll take you back to your room to rest."