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

This is something he dug out from a corner of his memory.

This fairy tale was published in the Journal of the Educational Society in 1906, and its original title was "A Certain Marquis's Fine Clothes".

In my previous life, although it was mostly published in children's books, its critical power was by no means lacking.

It's worth noting that just last year, Liu Bannong, a rising star in the novel world, published a translation and adaptation of this fairy tale, "Yangmi Xiaoying," in the monthly magazine "Zhonghua Xiaoshuo Jie" published by Zhonghua Book Company. He made localized adaptations to the characters' identities and settings, satirizing those "Yangmi" who worship foreign things, thus proving the feasibility of the adaptation.

It couldn't be more fitting to use it to satirize Yuan Shikai.

As for the specifics of how to change it...

Lin Wangzheng fell into thought, and for a moment he was at a loss for what to do.

After all, it was his first time doing something like this, and he didn't have much experience.

The name definitely cannot be mentioned, the official title cannot be copied, and the background cannot be copied either.

Writing novels is indeed a bit more difficult than I imagined; no wonder they're so popular...

"The Emperor's New Clothes... an adapted version... I've never heard of this novel before?"

Shen Zishi picked at his ear and asked with some confusion.

Lin Wangzheng turned to him and smiled, saying:

"I tell you to read more books all the time, but the only time I ask you to do it is when it's windy or rainy. You're either out for a stroll or playing mahjong with the landlord. You're practically a womanizer. It's a wonder I've ever heard of you... You're so uncultured!"

Shen Zishi was so angry that his teeth itched, and he raised his arm as if to slap him.

Lin Wangzheng quickly covered his head and curled up into a ball.

"Thump, thump, thump—"

Just as the slap was about to land on the back of Lin Wangzheng's head, there was a knock on the door!

The two stopped what they were doing at the same time and looked at each other in surprise, neither of them knowing who the newcomer was.

This is definitely not the landlady. The landlord knocks on the door very hard, has no manners, and shouts while knocking, never treating the two of them like outsiders.

But the knocking sound was rhythmic and light.

Who would come at this time of day...?

Could it be some handsome young man surnamed Cheng who's come to collect a debt?

"Tsk!"

Thinking of this, Lin Wangzheng felt somewhat helpless and made a move to open the door.

Shen Zishi tugged at his sleeve and whispered:

"Don't open it!"

"What can we do if we don't open it? Where can we run to? This is the third floor; if we jump, our legs will break!"

"..."

"Whether you stick your neck out or not, you'll get stabbed anyway... What a pity! Looks like you'll never get a wife!"

Lin Wangzheng, however, remained calm and walked to the door, opening it.

After a creak, a person stood outside the door.

It's not Cheng Ziqing.

But Lin Wangzheng did not breathe a sigh of relief; instead, his expression gradually darkened.

The man was in his thirties, wearing a worn-out long gown, his hair disheveled. He looked extremely tired, his complexion was terrible, and the deep-set eyes behind his round-framed glasses, along with the dark circles under his eyes, indicated that he hadn't slept in a long time.

Huang Yuanyong.

Lin Wangzheng was very familiar with this face. After seeing it clearly, his expression did not change, but his hands moved quickly, holding the door frame as if to close it.

"Bang!"

The door was closed halfway.

Huang Yuanyong's hand was caught in the door, and he gasped in pain, but he didn't care about anything else and hurriedly said:

"Wang Zheng! Wait a moment, let me say a few words, okay?"

Lin Wangzheng held back without holding back, maintaining his strength, the door half-open and half-closed, sandwiching the two of them.

Through the crack, he coldly looked at Huang Yuanyong, a slight smirk playing on his lips, and said sarcastically:

"Who knows if you're a spy for Yuan Shikai's faction? There might be spies lurking downstairs, waiting for your order..."

His gaze grew colder, his face gradually darkening, and he said bluntly:

"I do not welcome any Yuan Shikai lackeys here."

Huang Yuanyong stood there, his face ashen. He wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth, he couldn't utter a word.

Lin Wangzheng did it on purpose, of course.

How could he not know that Huang Yuanyong had published a notice in the Shenbao newspaper? But he still had to say these things. He had no right to forgive the original owner.

For Huang Yuanyong a few years earlier, being a journalist was just one of his many identities. Like Liang Yinbing and his ilk, he harbored the illusion that "President Yuan's power, courage, and experience are unmatched in China today; only he can maintain order in this perilous situation," hoping to establish a rule-of-law order through authoritarianism. To this end, he wrote many articles speaking in Yuan's defense, praising him as "calm and composed, capable of handling unforeseen events," "experienced and well-versed in the situation," "broad-minded and tolerant," "vigorous and diligent in his duties," and "promoting talent with exceptional abilities"—all of which sounded nauseating. It wasn't until the secret proposals he submitted in 1913 triggered the Gui Chou disaster that Yuan gradually revealed his true colors, and Huang publicly issued a "non-partisan" declaration.

But it was too late; such hindsight declarations are worthless.

How could Huang Yuanyong, whose social relationships were already established, possibly realize such a political declaration of non-partisanship? As a reporter in the political and economic center of Xia, how could he not implicitly represent a certain party or faction?

Even though he deliberately avoided news about Yuan Shikai, until now, on the eve of Yuan Shikai's restoration, his focus remained on trivial matters such as the cabinet, salt administration, transportation, and the judiciary. Yet, faced with Yuan Shikai's pressure, he still compromised and wrote a eulogistic article—a truly tangled mess.

It's not enough to simply say you have no connection with Yuan Xiangcheng and wipe the slate clean; otherwise, the price of atonement would be too low.

Hearing the commotion, Shen Zishi came over and took a look; his face immediately darkened.

During the two years that Lin Wangzheng lived with Shen Zishi, he had never seen him show such an expression.

It wasn't pure resentment, but rather the kind of feeling where you desperately try to ignore something, only to have it suddenly appear in front of you unexpectedly.

"Huang Yuanyong..."

Shen Zishi's voice was like that of an ice cave, as if it were squeezed out from between his teeth.

Huang Yuanyong lowered his head, pulled his hand back, and avoided his gaze:

"Brother Zishi."

"Don't call me by my name! You're not worthy!"

Shen Zishi shouted, "How did you find your way here?"

Huang Yuanyong trembled at the shout, lowered his head even further, and said in a trembling voice:

"I'm a reporter, and finding you is simple... I'm not here to cause trouble..."

"Oh!"

Shen Zishi gave a cold laugh, a very soft laugh.

Then, he suddenly attacked, strode forward, pushed Lin Wangzheng aside, dragged Huang Yuanyong into the house, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him against the wall, saying:

"A reporter?...A reporter?!"

He kept repeating the word, his tone gradually becoming mocking.

Huang Yuanyong offered no resistance, letting himself be grabbed, his lips pressed tightly together, unable to face his former friend.

Shen Zishi trembled all over, his eyes gradually reddening, and he said without any politeness:

"A scoundrel who doesn't even have the basic integrity to call himself a journalist?!"

This usually jovial tabloid editor-in-chief, facing a former friend who repeatedly hurled insults at him, is enough to prove that Huang Yuanyong's actions have deeply wounded him.

Huang Yuanyong didn't make the decision, nor did he commit the murder, but he was the one who provided the legitimacy for the killer. How many of his former friends died under the swords of Yuan Shikai's faction?

Forgive? On what grounds should I forgive?

He's a speculator, he's mercenary, he's slick, but he didn't use his credit rating as collateral for anything, so why shouldn't we be angry about it?

Lin Wangzheng watched silently from the side, offering no advice whatsoever.

Huang Yuanyong closed his eyes in anguish and confessed in a trembling voice:

"sorry."

These three words were like a match, igniting Shen Zishi's anger. His eyes were bloodshot, and his voice suddenly grew louder:

"You've wronged far more than just me! Let me tell you, even if you kneel before those lonely graves and repent, you will never be forgiven!"

It's as if he's venting all the unhappiness he's felt since the Gui Chou disaster.

Huang Yuanyong covered his face, speechless, his whole body trembling.

Shen Zishi shoved Huang Yuanyong aside, as if throwing away trash:

"What exactly do you want from me today?"

Huang Yuanyong propped himself up and answered in a low voice, his answer irrelevant to the question:

"I have severed ties with Yuan Shikai, as stated in the Shenbao newspaper."

"What's it to me?"

Shen Zishi stared intently at him, his gaze unfriendly, and pointed to the stairs: "You left your official post in Beiping to become a vanguard against Yuan Shikai in Shanghai, as if you've seen the light? Let me tell you, others might buy it, but I won't. Get out!"

Lin Wangzheng clenched his fists tightly.

Huang Yuanyong didn't move, appearing to be in great pain, and explained:

"I know that my previous ambiguous relationship with Yuan Shikai has already made me a bit weak-willed... I pride myself on being non-partisan, but in this world, being an impartial journalist is harder than climbing to heaven. You're either forced to sell yourself to a patron, or you unwittingly become a mouthpiece for a certain party or faction..."

Shen Zishi stared at him coldly, and Lin Wangzheng remained silent.

Huang Yuanyong continued, as if talking to himself, his tone halting:

"This return to Shanghai... is both atonement and a last-ditch effort. With pen and sword at my disposal, I fear I will never again have the leisure to discuss politics calmly... or to preach slowly. Yuan Shikai will not let me go... nor will the world allow me to be a vanguard."

This was the helplessness of the first generation of journalists.

He raised his head, his gaze falling on Lin Wangzheng:

"Wang Zheng, I have read all of your articles. I know which ones you wrote, and I have read them all."

Lin Wangzheng turned his head away.

In fact, Huang Yuanyong was the one who helped the original owner of the body to successfully travel south to Shanghai and find Shen Zishi. If it weren't for Huang Yuanyong pointing out the way and providing travel expenses, the original owner would have had no idea where to go.

Huang Yuanyong glanced at Shen Zishi again, his voice growing softer:

"I know I have no shame or integrity. I came here today to see you all, and I have no other intentions."

Shen Zishi also turned his head away.

Huang Yuanyong stood up straight and bowed deeply to the two men:

"I have come to see you today because I, a journalist who has lost my integrity and now seeks to regain my soul, want to sincerely apologize to you."

Nobody accepted it.

Huang Yuanyong knew that no one could forgive him. After a while, he straightened up and said, word by word:

"The Asia Daily opened today; we need to be careful from now on, they love to play dirty tricks."

Lin Wangzheng nodded slightly.

The movements were so fast that they were almost imperceptible.

But Huang Yuanyong saw it, his eyes lit up for a moment, then quickly dimmed again, and he finally lost all face and decided not to stay there any longer.

He slowly backed away, turned around, and walked towards the door. After taking two steps, he suddenly turned back and said to the two of them:

"Take care of yourself!"

he's gone.

The footsteps echoed heavily in the stairwell, making a "thump, thump, thump" sound.

Shen Zishi took the pipe back.

After struggling for a moment, I went to the window and looked at that lonely figure in the alley for a long time until the figure disappeared.

The smoke rose slowly and then dispersed.

He turned to look at Lin Wangzheng and asked:

"What does he want to do?"

Lin Wangzheng closed the door, his expression still gloomy. He returned to his desk, sat down, stared at the manuscript on it, and after a while, suddenly said:

"When a domestic rabbit fights a lion, it fights to the death."

Shen Zishi was stunned. He swayed a few times and then hurriedly went to the window.

The figure has disappeared from sight.

He remained silent for a long time, and no one knew what he was thinking.

But Lin Wangzheng knew he was definitely saying:

"Good luck."

......

At the same time, on Wangping Street in the International Settlement.

The Songhu branch of the Asia Daily was located in a small Western-style building at No. 1 Wangping Street, with gray bricks and white tiles, in a very good location.

A brand-new sign hangs at the entrance, white with black lettering that reads "Asia Daily News," even bigger than the sign for the "Shen Bao" newspaper, and can be seen from a great distance.

I wonder how much commissioner Xue Misi manipulated the purchase price of this signboard.

If you don't take it, I won't take it either!

Today is the first day of business. The front of the store is filled with flower baskets, covered with a red carpet, and we have even hired hostesses.

Xue Dake stood behind the second-floor window. Today he was wearing a dark suit, his tie was tied meticulously, and his hair was combed back and slicked back. He looked very energetic.

However, it was no use to try to be helpful; the place downstairs was too deserted, even more deserted than Beiping.

No one was subscribing to the newspaper, no one was talking about GG, and even passersby were covering their noses as if there was something dirty piled up at the entrance.

Occasionally one or two people would stop, glance at the sign, shake their heads, scoff, and then walk away.

"damn it."

Xue Dake took the cigar out of his mouth and tapped it on the windowsill to remove the ash.

Don't be fooled by the many flower baskets downstairs; they were all bought by myself, plus a few gifts from people who support Yuan Shikai.

He knew many people in Shanghai, but few were willing to visit him at this time. Standing in front of the Asia Daily at this critical juncture was like standing in the eye of the storm. Anyone with a modicum of sense would have already kept their distance.

The local newspapers are incredibly rude; they didn't even come to offer their congratulations at a time like this. Don't they know they're Yuan Shikai's pro-government journalists?

If you offend him, you'll be in big trouble once Yuan Shikai becomes emperor!

Shi Jiaxiu, Di Pingzi, Xi Zipei, Wang Hanxi...

And then there's Shen Zishi and Lin Wangzheng from the "Strange News" newspaper!

Xue Dake turned around and sat down at his desk.

He had been gathering information over the past few days and learned about the details of the "Strange News" from the French Concession police station. The information had already been sent to Beiping, so he skipped the meal step.

Wait!

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, and began to worry.

The Yuan family approved a lot of money, enough to last them a long time even if they only set up a newspaper.

But he came to Shanghai to promote the imperial system and to become the emperor of the Shanghai press; the money can't just keep going out without coming in...

If this newspaper continues like this, with no subscribers and no customers, how long can it survive on funding from Beiping alone?

What's more troublesome is that if Yuan Yuntai finds out that he's become such a pathetic figure, it will be difficult to secure the next round of funding.

While feeling distressed, Xue Dake began to comfort himself.

Some things are best left as a convincing lie in Beiping. After all, the emperor is far away; just keep printing every day, even if it's just one copy. Send it to Beiping, let Yuan Shikai see that he's doing something, and the funding will flow in steadily. As for Shanghai, take it slow; there's no need to rush.

We'll win sooner or later, really.

As he pondered, his gaze fell upon the letters on the table.

These were received at noon today. They weren't a subscription order or a GG contract; they were three threatening letters.

[Mr. Xue's wise advice: I have heard that you have come to Shanghai to run a newspaper and advocate for Yuan Shikai. Shanghai is not Beijing, and the foreign concessions are not Chinese-controlled areas. If you remain obstinate and continue to act as an accomplice to evil, I fear there will be unforeseen consequences. I urge you to reconsider and leave Shanghai as soon as possible to avoid such misfortune.]

[Respectfully submitted by a patriot]

This letter is quite polite; it's clearly written by a cultured person.

There was another letter, clearly from a military officer.

[Xue Dake: If you dare open a newspaper in Shanghai, I'll make you regret it. Yuan Shikai's lackeys should obediently go back to Beiping! Shanghai doesn't welcome you!]

[—A citizen]

Xue Dake got angry every time he read it, crumpled the letter into a ball, threw it into the wastebasket, and picked up the next letter.

[Mr. Xue: You are a scholar, why do you become an accomplice of the wicked? Yuan Shikai's attempt to become emperor has aroused universal indignation. If you still have a conscience, you should abandon darkness and embrace light, and do something practical for the people. If you remain obstinate, you will be remembered with infamy for eternity.]

【——The little lady respectfully】

"well......"

Xue Dake asked himself honestly, "Am I panicking?"

How could I not panic? Receiving several emails a day is unbearable for anyone.

What's more troublesome is that he doesn't know which letter is just a scare tactic and which one is really meant to get him.

A bunch of presumptuous guys...

Xue Dake stood up, walked to the door, and called out:

"The Buddha said! Come in for a moment!"

Footsteps soon echoed down the corridor.

Ding Fuyan came over from the next office, carrying a stack of manuscript papers, and asked:

"Master Xue, what's wrong?"

Xue Dake turned and walked back to his desk, pointing to the letters on the desk and the floor:

"Take a look at these, and think of a solution."

Ding Fuyan walked over, picked up a letter, looked at it, and frowned:

"Another threatening letter?"

Xue Dake nodded and lit a cigarette:

"What do you suggest we do? This can't go on forever. Who knows when these extremists might actually take action?"

Ding Fuyan thought for a moment and then suggested:

"Go and inform the police in the foreign concession that we have received threats and need them to send someone to protect us."

Xue Dake hesitated for a moment.

The faction's lackeys were forced to report to the authorities. What's the difference between this and gangsters who lost a fight and then crying as they report to the authorities?

The key point is that the report was submitted by a foreign official...

However, for the sake of personal safety, he still agreed:

"Alright, this method works, you can go ahead with it."

"The manuscripts haven't all been collected yet, and the layout isn't done. I don't have the time."

Ding Fuyan politely declined.

"Okay, I'll go make the trip and smooth things over while I'm at it."

Xue Dake didn't insist. He straightened his tie, picked up the round hat on the table, and made as if to leave.

Reaching the door, he suddenly stopped, turned his back to Ding Fuyan, paused for a few seconds, and then said:

"Huang Yuanyong has been getting a bit agitated lately, trying to break away from us, but that's not up to him. He'll still be writing about it in tomorrow's papers, understand?"