From street tabloids to the first newspaper of the Republic of China

September 9th, morning.

The White Dew solar term has arrived, in an inconspicuous teahouse in Zhabei.

The private rooms on the second floor faced the street, with the windows tightly closed and the curtains drawn, so the sounds of traffic outside could not be heard.

On the table were "White Dew Tea" and several plates of snacks.

The man in his early fifties sat in the main seat, his face square, his brows high, and his eyes calm yet sharp. He wore a well-tailored dark gray silk shirt, and on his finger was an old jade thumb ring, worn smooth and gleaming under the lamplight.

Liu Dengjie, a senior member of the Green Gang.

The young man opposite him looked to be in his mid-twenties, handsome with a scholarly air about him, and his eyes held an indescribable serenity. He wore a plain blue long gown, which was washed clean, and his hair was casually combed, with a few strands hanging down his forehead.

Yuan Hanyun, a senior member of the Green Gang.

He also had another identity: the second son of Yuan Xiangcheng.

Two years ago, his elder brother Yuan Yuntai accused him of "having an affair with his father's concubine." To avoid suspicion, he was forced to come to Shanghai to escape trouble and travel between various places for a long time.

Upon arriving here, he used his status and wealth to befriend Huang Jinrong and establish himself. Later, he became an apprentice of Zhang Shanting, the leader of the Xingwu Six Gangs, and directly obtained the high seniority of "Da" in the Green Gang. He had followers wherever he went and enjoyed great prestige.

It's a disgrace to the family for the president's son to be involved in a gang.

To outsiders, it seemed that Yuan Shikai had orchestrated this grand scheme because many members of the Green Gang opposed him, with the aim of gaining control of the underground forces.

Those in the know understand that it was purely Yuan Hanyun's literary whims at play, and had absolutely nothing to do with Yuan Xiangcheng.

He admired chivalrous figures like Lord Mengchang and Lord Chunshen from the Warring States period, and his ideal was to become a free and unfettered knight-errant. So, he joined the Green Gang as a hobby, hoping to help people out of trouble with just a word.

"Brother Hanyun."

Liu Dengjie stood up, picked up the teapot, and poured a cup of tea for each of them: "I invited you here today for something."

Yuan Hanyun picked up his teacup, leaned back in his chair, and silently played with the ancient coins in his hand.

The title "Mr. Hanyun" was far more well-known in the Songhu literary circles than the name "Yuan Hanyun." His peers in the gang knew he was fond of literature, so they called him that.

Seeing that Yuan Hanyun did not refuse, Liu Dengjie took out a folded newspaper from his sleeve and unfolded it.

It was yesterday's "Shenbao" newspaper, the front page featured an investigative report on rickshaw drivers, the headline printed in large font. The teahouse lights weren't bright enough to make some of the words very clear, but the gist was understandable.

Liu Dengjie asked softly:

"Have you read this piece, Brother Hanyun?"

Yuan Hanyun lowered her head, glanced at the title, and nodded in response:

"I have seen it."

Liu Dengjie sighed, his voice somewhat low:

"Many of my men are getting restless. A guy named Gu Zhuxuan came over yesterday, saying he just took advantage of the German boss's return to his country to buy Feixing Car Dealership, but this article has exposed all the dealership's secrets. He's making a living off this business, and if the drivers join in, how will he continue operating? What do you suggest we do? I'm even thinking of taking this reporter's job!"

Yuan Hanyun stared at the tea leaves floating in the cup, lost in thought.

After joining the Green Gang, he realized that the Green Gang in this storybook was completely different from the Green Gang in the novel.

In the novels, the Green Gang is a chivalrous organization that specializes in helping the weak and oppressed; in reality, the Green Gang is an underground organization with its own various businesses, including managing docks, running casinos, brothels, car dealerships, and smuggling opium... They do little good but frequently commit bad deeds, making them vastly different from what one might imagine.

In the rickshaw business, the entire Shanghai area was basically under the control of the Green Gang.

He knew Gu Zhuxuan; he was from Jiangbei and had pulled a rickshaw in his early years. Later, he was noticed by the owner of the German Feixing Rickshaw Company and entrusted with managing the rental business. After the outbreak of World War I, the German owner returned to his country, and Gu Zhuxuan used his savings to take over the rickshaw company, becoming its owner. He became a disciple of Liu Dengjie, thus becoming a tentacle of the Green Gang in the rickshaw business.

This person's words largely represent the views of the automotive industry.

The leader of the Green Gang must find a way to resolve this, otherwise how can he continue his business?

Although he didn't have this business, it's understandable that Liu Dengjie would come knocking when a scholar exposed the truth.

Let's take a look at the opinions of cultured people...

Yuan Hanyun put down her teacup and spoke slowly:

"Brother Liu, what do you think of this article?"

Liu Dengjie was taken aback, not expecting him to ask that. He thought for a moment, carefully choosing his words:

"What those rickshaw drivers said wasn't made up. That reporter is really capable; he's not just spouting nonsense."

Yuan Hanyun nodded:

"So, here's the trouble."

"This article is extremely truthful and detailed, entirely written from the raw, tearful words of the rickshaw pullers. It vividly portrays the deepest suffering of the pullers and their families. This kind of suffering was also experienced firsthand by lower-ranking members of the Green Gang, and even some of the leaders. You are a senior member of the older generation, and you also came from those difficult times, didn't you?"

Liu Dengjie was speechless. He took out a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag, and the smoke obscured his expression.

Yuan Hanyun took a sip of tea and continued:

"If you're thinking of relying on brute force, with Shi Jiaxiu's abilities, he could create an extra edition in no time. What would the result be? You'd simply be seen as siding with the boss and the police, and going against Brother Ku."

"What enabled the Green Gang to establish itself in Shanghai? It was their loyalty and their commitment to 'standing up for the poor.' If you abandon those principles, will your followers still stay with you?"

"Sometimes, you can't just focus on making money; you also need to think about things further ahead."

Liu Dengjie tapped his fingers lightly twice on the table, his brows furrowing:

"What should we do then? Just ignore it?"

Yuan Hanyun lit a cigarette and pointed it at the newspaper:

"If you read this article carefully, you'll see that although it criticizes the Green Gang, it also explains why the rickshaw pullers joined the gang. In a sense, these words provide an explanation for the necessity of the gang's existence. The criticism wasn't specifically aimed at the Green Gang, and you know that in your heart."

Liu Dengjie nodded.

Yuan Hanyun then pointed to the two characters 【明镜】:

"The journalist who wrote this report must have a very high reputation among the rickshaw drivers. Using gang tactics will only backfire and even create martyrs. Then, who will the rickshaw drivers follow? So, it's not you taking revenge; it's him putting you on the hot seat."

"So what do you mean?"

We need to come up with a good idea.

"I'd like to hear more details!"

Liu Dengjie listened obediently.

Yuan Hanyun smiled, held a cigarette between two fingers, and squinted as he said:

"This reporter wrote about trolleys stealing business. If you could redirect the drivers' resentment in that direction, they wouldn't be focusing their anger on the trolley companies."

Liu Dengjie's eyes lit up.

Yuan Hanyun added:

"One more thing, the article says that people from Jiangbei make up the majority. If you can compare their lives to those of rickshaw drivers from other regions, they won't be so focused on the rickshaw shops."

Liu Dengjie clapped his hands loudly.

He understands this; it's about differentiation!

For example, the rickshaw drivers in Jiangbei are having a hard time making a living, all because the rickshaw drivers in Jiangnan are stealing their business!

Yuan Hanyun slowly exhaled a puff of smoke and then said:

"Most importantly, this article also discusses the issues between the government and foreigners, and you can still steer the discussion in that direction."

Liu Dengjie strongly agreed:

"Only cultured people can muddy the waters!"

Yuan Hanyun smiled, a cigarette dangling from his lips, and said:

"It's about diverting the water; the drivers' grievances need an outlet. If you can't block it, then redirect it elsewhere, so it doesn't affect you personally. What does it matter to you who they curse?"

Liu Dengjie decided to do it this way, and then asked:

"What about the reporter? Are we just going to ignore him?"

"Of course we'll manage it, why wouldn't we?"

Yuan Hanyun said calmly, "But using your fists won't work. Try to approach and win him over to see if you can use him. For example, get him to say a few fair words for the Green Gang. This kind of person has prestige among the coachmen. If you can win him over, he'll be more useful than a hundred thugs."

"What if he doesn't want to? Then do something to him?"

"I've already said it, the Green Gang isn't a military or law enforcement agency. Don't be thinking about fighting all the time. Just let it cool down. This is just an article after all; it won't shake our foundation. If you're in such a hurry to take action, it just makes you look guilty."

"Too......"

Liu Dengjie nodded.

He stubbed out his cigarette, picked up his teacup, took a sip, finished the tea, and then toyed with the teacup in his hand.

"You mean the concession area? Do you think there will be any action?"

Yuan Hanyun chuckled and said:

"The Municipal Council will definitely take action, but given the way the English operate, their methods will probably not meet your expectations."

"What does that mean?"

"Those bureaucrats in the Municipal Council, if you don't make a scene in front of them, they'll pretend they don't see it; even if you do make a scene in front of them, they'll just go through the motions, they're not going to actually do anything."

"That's true, then let's do as you say."

Liu Dengjie put the newspaper away.

They call it collecting, but it's really just about crumpling a handful into a ball and throwing it into the trash can.

The two drank tea in silence for a while.

Liu Dengjie kept looking at Yuan Hanyun, his gaze full of probing. After hesitating for a long time, he finally asked:

"Brother Hanyun, there's one more thing."

"you say."

"What's your opinion on the President's side?"

"..."

Yuan Hanyun pursed her lips, not really wanting to discuss this topic.

To be honest, if he hadn't left home and wasn't under the protection of the Green Gang, and had just been wandering around Shanghai, he would have been assassinated by the revolutionaries long ago.

But he could understand Liu Dengjie's predicament; it wasn't like no one within the Green Gang had ever asked him about this matter.

He shook his head, somewhat dejected, and slowly said:

"As you all know, I joined the Green Gang to stay away from politics. In recent years, I have been traveling between the North and South, focusing all my attention on literary pursuits. I don't care about what's happening in Beiping, I don't want to care, and I can't care."

"Otherwise, my older brother won't let me off the hook."

Liu Dengjie dared not discuss this casually and listened quietly.

Yuan Hanyun's voice also lowered:

"But I really can't stand those people from the Preparatory Committee for the Establishment of Peace, those people from the Asia Daily, and my eldest brother. They talk a good game, as if changing a signboard would bring peace to the world, pushing my father into a fire pit. My father has lost his mind; he actually believed those things..."

There was something he kept to himself, something he dared not face.

People only believe what they want to believe.

Liu Dengjie held his breath.

Yuan Hanyun pointed to the wad of newspaper on the ground:

"This article is well-written. It's not filled with empty rhetoric or clichés; it's based on solid investigation. He wrote down exactly what the drivers said. It's not sensational, exaggerated, or condescending. This kind of article is rare in today's press."

He paused, then said something truly shocking:

"I like it very much because the article has a chivalrous spirit."

Liu Dengjie's face turned pale instantly.

Yuan Xiangcheng's son actually appreciates articles that criticize Yuan's faction! If this gets back to Beiping, who knows what kind of uproar it will cause.

Some things are better left unsaid; knowing the general outline is enough. Asking too many questions won't do you any good.

He hurriedly stood up, cupped his hands, and said:

"I understand. Our faction will not get involved in this matter."

Yuan Hanyun also stood up, and the two bowed to each other.

"Brother Hanyun, farewell."

Take care.

......

In the afternoon, the Municipal Council of the International Settlement.

It's just one street away from the Shenbao Building on Wangping Street.

The new Municipal Council building is still under planning. This office, which has been in operation since the sixth year of the Guangxu Emperor's reign, remains the core of the International Settlement.

Horse-drawn carriages and rickshaws came and went at the gate, and uniformed police officers stood ramrod straight. Expatriates from various countries came and went to handle their affairs, and after leaving the gate, they would casually buy a newspaper from the news vendor.

Because the French Concession was separated from the city government, the Municipal Council now only oversees the municipal affairs of the International Settlement, while the French Concession is under the jurisdiction of the Municipal Council.

However, the structures of the two concessions were largely the same. They both had boards of directors and police departments.

The decoration in the CEO's office on the third floor is in a Renaissance style.

Chairman Pierce sat behind his desk, with yesterday's translation of the Shen Bao newspaper spread out in front of him, scratching his sparse hair in frustration.

Born in London, England in 1862, he graduated from Charterhouse School. In 1884, he moved to Shanghai, initially working for a tea company. In 1897, he joined the British firm of Herbert Mau, becoming a partner in 1905. Besides his firm's main business, he also served as chairman of the board of directors of Shanghai Industrial Company, Herbert Mau Cotton Mill, Mouldley & Co., and the Meicha Brothers Company, with businesses covering trade, real estate, textiles, publishing, and other fields. He was a representative figure of British capital in Shanghai. He was elected a director of the Shanghai Municipal Council in 1911 and officially became its chairman in 1913, a position he held ever since, wielding immense power.

Within the International Settlement, they belonged to the very elite. Even when they ventured into Chinese-controlled areas, their influence was not to be underestimated.

"Thump, thump, thump—"

There was a knock on the office door, neither too loud nor too soft.

"Come in!"

A man in a dark police uniform, buttoned up to the top, with a badge on his collar and carrying a briefcase, came in and stood ramrod straight behind the table.

Police Inspector General Mak Ko-wan.

He looked to be in his early forties, with a square face, high cheekbones, and sharp eyes that looked at people as if they were being appraised as merchandise.

It's worth mentioning that he was also the son of Inspector General McEwan. He completed his basic education in England and received professional police training at the Royal Irish Police School. He joined the Municipal Council Police Department as a trainee officer in 1900, was promoted to deputy inspector general in 1904, and became inspector general in 1913, making him a real-life version of "My Inspector General Father".

The Inspector General of the International Settlement was the highest-ranking officer in the police force, on par with the Chief Inspector.

Pierce pushed the translated copy of the *Shenbao* newspaper on the table towards him, pointing with his finger to the front-page article:

"Have you seen it?"

"I've seen it."

Mai Gaoyun smiled and replied, as if he were talking about something insignificant.

Pierce craned his neck and asked:

"What do you think?"

Mai Gaoyun thought for a moment, then maintained a polite smile:

"Well written."

Pierce paused for a moment, then gave a rather awkward smile.

He thought McGowan would say something like "incitement," but McGowan said "well written."

So he became a little restless, and his voice became a little shrill:

"What are you talking about? This article, like 'The Condition of the Working Class in England,' exposes everything about rickshaw pullers, portrays the police in the concessions as ruthless bullies, the rickshaw companies as bloodsuckers exploiting laborers, and the Municipal Council as a government office that only cares about collecting taxes and doesn't care about people's lives. And you're telling me it's well-written?"

They don't like to hear the truth!

Mai Gaoyun raised an eyebrow, sat down, leaned back in his chair, crossed his hands over his stomach, and his expression remained unchanged.

"What I'm saying is, the *Shenbao* newspaper published this kind of article on our turf. For the French neighbors next door, it's quite a piece of writing—you know, they make a living by mocking us. I bet that idiot, George, is laughing his head off right now."

"That's more like it..."

Pierce breathed a sigh of relief, leaned back in his chair, and looked around nervously, seemingly indecisive.

After thinking for a while, he cleared his throat, straightened his collar, and said:

"What do you think we should do?"

Mai Gaoyun asked instead:

"What do you want? Or rather, what can you do?"

Pierce was stunned by the question.

If he knew what to do, would he still let you tell him what to do?

Neuropathy!

Mai Gaoyun didn't want to embarrass his boss too much. He placed his hands on the table, raised his eyebrows, and said with a smile:

"Directly shut down the *Shen Bao*? That's impossible. It's still within the concession, protected by the concession, and backed by foreign merchants. Besides, its influence is too great. If it were shut down, every newspaper in the country would reprint an article tomorrow with the headline 'Shanghai Municipal Council Suppresses Freedom of Speech,' even though everyone knows there is no freedom in reality."

"At that time, Your Excellency Pierce, your name will be prefixed with 'executioner of speech,' and your businesses will certainly face boycotts. Are you prepared?"

Pierce's face turned pale, then flushed; he opened his mouth, stammering:

"Then arrest this reporter?"

Mai Gaoyun chuckled and shook his head:

"I admire your courage to stir up a hornet's nest; you are truly selfless... This reporter is using a pseudonym; we don't even know who he is. Even if the detective finds and arrests him, what crime can you charge him with? Revealing the truth?"

Pierce was somewhat unconvinced and said:

"This reporter criticized Yuan Xiangcheng; I can hand him over to the Chinese authorities!"

Mai Gaoyun clasped his hands together, laughed even harder, and said:

"It's a pity that there are people like Guan Jiong in the Mixed Court. If things get out of hand, how will you explain it to the consulate and London? You should know that a journalist with a conscience is ultimately not a revolutionary, and we have no legitimacy to punish him."

Pierce's expression was rather unpleasant.

His power is not without checks and balances. If a reporter is handed over on such grounds, how could Guan Jiong, who once caused a disturbance at the public trial and is still serving as a judge, not protect him?

If things escalate like this, the impact will be comparable to shutting down the Shen Bao newspaper. After all, journalists are not revolutionaries, and their influence on public opinion is completely different, as is the degree of harm they cause to the concessions.

Businessmen are most afraid of trouble from public opinion.

He was stuck, undeterred, and asked again:

"So you mean, do nothing?"

Mai Gaoyun leaned back in his chair, his voice neither hurried nor slow:

"I didn't say we shouldn't do anything; I said we can't force it."

After speaking, he took a document from his briefcase, opened it, and laid it out on the table:

"I suggest starting from three routes."

"First, I hinted or warned Shen Bao that I would have someone talk to Shi Jiaxiu and tell him that the content of this report was extreme and could cause social conflict, and demand that his subsequent reports be more responsible. No formal document was needed, just a verbal message would suffice, and he would understand."

Pierce nodded.

Mai Gaoyun pointed to the second item and said:

"Release a statement through semi-official channels, find newspapers that are inclined to support us, emphasize the efforts of the Municipal Council in municipal management, public health, and traffic regulations, and blame the rickshaw problem on the influx of too many poor people into the Chinese-controlled area, the greed of rickshaw owners, and the bad habits of the rickshaw drivers themselves. The alcoholism, gambling, and counterfeit silver dollar swapping mentioned in the article can be used to our advantage."

"The wording should be careful; it shouldn't be too harsh, nor too weak. The reader should feel that the Municipal Council is taking this issue seriously, but without giving the impression that the Municipal Council is admitting to the allegations in the report."

"For example: 'The Municipal Council has taken note of recent reports concerning the conditions of rickshaw pullers and expresses its concern. The Municipal Council has always attached great importance to municipal management and public welfare within the concession and will continue to dedicate itself to improving the living conditions of workers. At the same time, the Municipal Council believes that some reports are biased and may cause unnecessary misunderstandings about the good order of the concession.' What a repetitive statement, yet it reflects the great wisdom of the East!"

Saying it means not saying it.

Compared to Yuan Hanyun, isn't this also a kind of tacit understanding?

Even Mai Gaoyun himself suspects that the author of this article deliberately wrote those contents to give them a "way out".

What a clever opponent...

A light gradually returned to Pierce's eyes.

McGowan pointed to the third item and continued:

"The most crucial thing is to do some superficial work."

"What superficiality?"

"To appease public opinion and demonstrate enlightened governance, one or two targeted measures could be announced. For example, a review of vehicle inspection and fine procedures could be conducted, and one or two police officers who have aroused great public resentment could be punished. Just to make a show of it, so that those rickshaw drivers feel that the Municipal Council is doing something."

"Find a scapegoat, and make a big deal out of a small one."

Pierce's tone carried a hint of admiration.

Mai Gaoyun nodded and closed the file:

"For specific measures, you can draft a blueprint and promise to study ways to improve sanitation in shantytowns or set up makeshift clinics for workers. As you know, such promises often get stuck on budget issues. You don't need to actually do anything, but you must make a good public statement."

"Is there anything else?"

"It is emphasized that the development of modern transportation such as trams is a progressive trend, and the plight of rickshaw pullers is portrayed as an inevitable growing pain in the process of modernization. This is not our fault, it is the fault of the times, and no one should blame anyone else. We are also quite saddened and hope to strengthen social relief."

"So you're still doing nothing?"

Pierce's lips twitched, and he finally realized what was happening.

Mai Gaoyun tapped his fingers twice on the armrest again, and said mysteriously:

"When a machine is running, I advise you not to rub the parts indiscriminately, otherwise, things may turn out differently. Do nothing, just let what should move move, and what shouldn't move, not move, and you've done everything. In the Xia Kingdom, this is called governing by non-action."

The meaning is obvious.

You can mess with insignificant people, but if you mess with the structure of car dealerships, license plates, and rents, the concession will inevitably be thrown into chaos.

With the war escalating, maintaining colonial order and avoiding all unnecessary trouble are paramount. On this point, the bottom line for each concession is almost identical.

Pierce picked up the pen on the table, signed the document, and pushed it back to McGowan:

"Go and do it."

Mai Gaoyun stood up, picked up the documents, stuffed them into his briefcase, and turned to walk to the door.

"McGaoyun".

Pierce suddenly shouted.

Mai Gaoyun turned around.

Pierce asked:

"Who do you think that reporter is?"

Mai Gaoyun thought for a moment, then said with a smile:

"He's either a madman or a saint. I'll find a way to locate him and then monitor him."

"and then?"

"Establish a system archive... As you know, all appropriate documents are archived for easy reference and retrieval when necessary."

"Good idea, since it'll just end up being shelved anyway."

Pierce stood up, one hand on his hip, the other slamming his fist on the table: "I've made up my mind. At this month's taxpayers' meeting, I'm going to propose adding a censorship order for Chinese-language newspapers! It's time to put these lawless voices to rest!"

Mai Gaoyun lowered his head and smiled, a very happy smile, and bowed slightly to him:

"Then I wish you won't succumb to the taxpayers' wrath."

......

evening.

Xiaoyoutian Restaurant near Wangping Street.

This Fujian cuisine restaurant is very popular among Qing Dynasty loyalists and literati, and is known for its seafood dishes.

The couplet hanging on the main gate, "The Way of the Way is not the eternal Way; the Heaven of the Heaven is small Heaven," was written by Chen Renxian and inscribed by Zheng Xiaoxu.

The restaurant was bustling with people, a lively scene indeed.

Inside the private room, Xue Dake sat in the main seat, legs crossed, a cigarette between his fingers, looking radiant.

The emperor is far away, and I still have money in my hands—what a blessing in life!

Sitting next to him were seven or eight people, including his team from Beiping and editors recruited in Shanghai.

The press has no shortage of writers who have been in the business for years but never managed to get ahead. Such people will sell any moral principles if the price is right.

A group of people sat around a large round table, some holding teacups, some smoking cigarettes, and some flipping through today's newspaper.

Xue Dake's stomach was growling loudly; if the food wasn't served soon, he was ready to flip the table.

"Mr. Xue, what is your opinion on yesterday's Shen Bao?"

A new editor spoke up.

Xue Dake flicked his cigarette ash before slowly speaking:

"How do I see? I see with my eyes."

The group burst into laughter.

But Xue Dake didn't laugh; instead, he said fiercely:

"Why did this report have to come out at this crucial juncture? Doesn't the emperor know there's a petition for a new monarchy? Shi Jiaxiu has certainly grown bolder, daring to openly go against the will of the people!"

Actually, he was holding a grudge against Shi Jiaxiu for making public his bribery of journalists.

The new editor quickly chimed in:

"Master Xue is right! Shi Jiaxiu doesn't know what's good for him, just wait—"

But Xue Dake raised his hand to interrupt him:

"Can you wait until I finish speaking?"

The new editor quickly shut his mouth.

Xue Dake put the cigarette in his mouth, took a drag, and exhaled two puffs of smoke from his nostrils, giving him a somewhat emperor-like air about him. He sneered:

"I've seen plenty of these so-called social surveys. They're nothing more than the shallow sympathy of writers and intellectuals, picking up scraps, exaggerating, generalizing from limited information, and garnering cheap applause and tears. The nation is in dire need of attention, with everything needing to be rebuilt; how can one understand this by just staring at a few rickshaw pullers?"

Ding Fuyan spoke slowly:

"What you say is absolutely right. The suffering of coachmen has existed since ancient times. It is not something that started today, nor is it unique to the Xia Kingdom. To use this to attack the government is to put the cart before the horse."

Fan Zengxiang nodded and continued the conversation:

"Are those rickshaw pullers pitiful? Perhaps... but who isn't? The world is in hardship, and it's not just the rickshaw pullers who are suffering. The decline of the countryside didn't happen overnight. Urban competition and survival of the fittest have always been the way of things."

It still takes the old guard to know how to respond.

Xue Dake continued his mockery:

"Are the rickshaw pullers entirely without responsibility? Poverty is certainly a factor, but isn't their own fault for indulging in depravity, falling into bad habits, and lacking ambition? Those who blame everything on the state of the world or on those in power are nothing but cowards and instigators."

He looked around, his gaze sweeping across everyone's face:

"Many people who come from humble backgrounds and study hard achieve wealth and status entirely through their own efforts, pragmatism, and patronage of powerful rulers. If these rickshaw pullers had even a shred of ambition, they wouldn't be in this situation."

The new editor, who had initially started the conversation, immediately clapped his hands and exclaimed:

"Master Xue's insight is brilliant!"

Others followed suit, some nodding, some clapping, and some raising their teacups in salute.

For a moment, the room was filled with voices praising Xue Gong's wisdom and insight, and everyone was extremely happy.

Xue Da leaned back in his chair, enjoying the flattery.

Actually, he's a bit annoyed right now.

It wasn't until I arrived in Shanghai that I realized that any newspaper dared to criticize the "Yuan Party." If Yuan Shikai were to learn the true public opinion, losing his position would be a minor matter.

Another new editor suddenly spoke up:

"Lord Xue, should we write an article to curb Shi Jiaxiu's arrogance?"

The room fell silent immediately.

Xue Dake's lips twitched, somewhat annoyed.

I'm just saying this to myself: what are you going to use to quell their arrogance?

He hated hearing this now. Last time, his attempt to suppress the arrogance of that "Warning Bell" led to his exile to Shanghai. If he didn't handle things well now and got caught by this "Mirror," and the news got back to Beiping, wouldn't he be rendered useless?

However, as soon as he arrived in Shanghai, the "Strange News" disappeared, probably because they were afraid of him, which saved them the trouble of hosting a banquet!

But the past can't be left unresolved. He's already spent money to inquire in the French Concession and will soon find out who's behind the "Strange News".

By then... ha!

"Not for now."

Xue Da leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his stomach, and stared at the ceiling: "The most important thing right now is not to fight these newspapers with words, but to build up the Shanghai branch of the Asia Daily. Once the newspaper is up and running, we will have our own base and our own voice. At that time, all the petty troublemakers will be easily dealt with."

Everything will be alright once the newspaper office is built!

Someone asked an inopportune question:

"But what about those threatening letters... Lord Xue?"

Everyone's faces darkened simultaneously.

Since Xue Dake arrived in Shanghai, he has received an average of one threatening letter every day. The letters are mostly filled with accusations of being "Yuan Shikai's lackey," "traitor to the people," and "criminal against the imperial system," threatening that if he dares to build a newspaper, he will "be punished by heaven."

Xue Dake's expression gradually turned ugly, and he tried to salvage the situation by saying:

"We scholars should take loyalty to the emperor and love for our country as our duty; what fear is there of life and death?"

Everyone said in unison:

"Master Xue is truly a role model for us all!"