Rebirth 04: Starting from Taking an Unconventional Approach

Lu Hai parked his small truck in front of People's Square. He had borrowed the truck from his uncle's house, and it even had a sign for recycling scrap metal on it. Because of this, he and Sun Yue were stopped at least five times that morning by confused members of the public.

They brought out a total of two thousand magazines and had already set up six distribution points. Lu Hai wiped his sweat, shielded his eyes with his hand, and looked towards the newsstand at the end of People's Square. "Good location," he thought. "The newsstand faces the subway entrance, and during peak hours, the flow of people will be like a floodgate being opened."

"This newsstand doesn't seem particularly interested," Sun Yue said, looking down at the list of channels compiled by Zhang Meimei.

"Not very interested? That's because you haven't seen the real thing yet!" Lu Hai laughed a few times, mainly to ease the awkwardness. He had tried telling Sun Yue various jokes in the car, but judging from her reactions, his eloquence wasn't up to the task.

Lu Hai opened the cargo compartment, picked up the remaining fifty magazines, and headed towards the newsstand. He wrinkled his nose because he saw a yellow dog defecating in the square, half a step behind its owner. The owner didn't even pick up the poop; as soon as the dog straightened up, he grabbed the leash and rode away. Lu Hai felt indignant because he cared about the city's living environment, or at least the environment of this area.

He arrived at the newsstand. The stand was small, but it had everything he needed. A row of magazines hung on the left, a beverage cooler was on the right, and a cardboard sign on the window advertised lottery tickets, top-ups, and maps.

The newsstand owner was a plump old man, seemingly engrossed in a newspaper. His thinning hair, glasses perched on the tip of his nose, and a strap around them reminded Lu Hai of a teacher weary of his profession.

"Grandpa," Lu Hai leaned closer to the window and laughed sincerely, "I'm from Bluebird Publishing House, here to deliver your magazine."

The old man carefully folded the newspaper, glanced at him over his glasses, and looked at him with a hint of arrogance and sarcasm.

Lu Hai placed a bag of magazines on the window, pulled one out and handed it in: "Take a look, our magazines are of absolutely top quality."

The old man took the magazine, flipped through it, stood up, and placed it on the top shelf.

Lu Hai leaned back and glanced at the cover from the outside. He saw that the woman on the cover was peeking out from a gap the size of a matchbox, while the rest of the cover was completely covered by the densely packed magazine pages in front.

"Um, sir, putting it here... it's probably not visible, is it?"

"There's no room left," the old man said. "Can't you see the line is full? We can only put you at the back."

Lu Hai shifted his stance, resting his elbow on the window: "Sir, how about this? Could you move the other odds and ends around and put them in the very center, the spot where we can see them at a glance?"

"The middle?" the old man said, adjusting his glasses. "Do you know whose seat that is?"

"Story Collection?"

"Story Collection has been selling here for twenty years. You do the math, how many days are twenty years?"

Lu Hai thought for a moment: "Six...no, seven thousand..."

"For 7,300 days, it's been there every single day; it's the property owner of that land. You want it to move? Ask it if it agrees!"

Lu Hai felt a bead of sweat appear on his eyebrow.

"We're officially certified by China Mobile's mobile network, it's officially stamped," Lu Hai said. "What does that mean? It means we have connections!"

"Do you have anyone in your family who is a manager at the mobile company?"

Lu Hai swayed from side to side: "Oh, those are two different things..."

"That means he has no connections! My son works at a mobile phone repair company, and I've never seen him move the 'Story Club' magazine."

"Is your son a telephone repairman?"

"It's been under repair for eight years." The old man gestured. "I know everyone at the mobile company very well, but I've never heard of you guys. I can sell 500 copies of *Story Collection* a month, how many of yours can you sell?"

"Sir, I guarantee you, if you give us a good spot, our magazine will sell like hotcakes. The more people buy it, the more money you'll make, right?"

The old man laughed loudly and shook his head: "I've been selling magazines here for twenty years. Do you know what I fear hearing most?"

"What?"

"What I fear most is someone telling me that someone will definitely buy it. Ten years ago, someone came to promote a magazine and said the same thing. In the end, they bought fifty copies, sold them for three years, and my grandson took them home to wallpaper the walls. I only agreed to take fifty copies of your magazine because that woman was so nice to me last time; otherwise, I wouldn't take a single one."

Lu Hai gritted his teeth, not allowing himself to utter a single careless word. He knew that because the old man was old and experienced, he preferred stability in his business, hence his overly cautious attitude towards new things. "Well done." Lu Hai really wanted to grab his glasses and smash them to pieces.

"Sir," Lu Hai said, "how much does a copy of 'Story Collection' cost here?"

"Four pieces."

Lu Hai sniffed, took a crumpled hundred-yuan bill from his pocket, and handed it to the old man.

The old man looked at him with a questioning gaze.

"I bought that copy of 'Story Collection'," Lu Hai said. "Now I have a seat, don't I?"

The old man took the banknotes, examined them carefully against the sunlight, and nodded. He took the copy of "Story Collection" from the shelf, tossed it into the window, then bent down and placed a new copy of "Story Collection" on it.

Lu Hai felt a chill run down his spine. "Sir, what's wrong with you...?"

"Like you said," the old man chuckled, "two different things."

Lu Hai felt like he couldn't breathe. At that moment, Han Fei popped into his mind. Han Fei had sacrificed so much, not only for himself, but also for the publishing house and for the career of everyone in the publishing house.

"How many copies of 'Story Collection' do you have left?"

The old man bent down, then quickly straightened up again: "Not many left, there are seven more books below."

"What if..."

"Sure," the old man said immediately, "but when this month's issue of 'Story Collection' arrives in a couple of days, that spot will still belong to someone else."

Lu Hai closed his eyes, utterly exhausted. He thought to himself, "This is all for the publishing house. Even if it were only for a few days, any one of you would have done the same."

"I...I want them all!"

Lu Hai took the change and nine copies of "Story Club" magazine, and watched as the old man hung the Bluebird Magazine in the center before leaving with peace of mind.

He walked towards the pickup truck, having calmed down somewhat by then, when suddenly something felt off. What was the profit margin if all fifty copies of Bluebird Magazine were sold?

He scratched his chin, not paying attention to the road ahead, until his foot slipped and he realized he had stepped on something.

Lu Hai squinted at the thing he had stepped on; it was a pile of dog poop.