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

September 11th, evening.

It's getting dark slowly now, but the streetlights on the main road are already on.

The dim light shone down from the utility poles, barely illuminating a small area around them.

The nighttime atmosphere on Wangping Street is not as bustling as it is during the day, but it is still very lively.

The newspaper offices were brightly lit, with shadows flickering in the windows; food stalls on the street were still open, and the aroma of sesame oil wafted from the wonton carts.

Groups of children chased and played as they passed by, causing the rickshaws to slow down.

In the printing workshop on the first floor of the Asia Daily newspaper building, workers are busy next to the printing machines, preparing for the night's printing work.

Compared to other newspaper offices, there were not many windows lit up on the second floor.

After all, the main purpose of the Asia Daily was to promote the imperial system, and other news was not essential.

However, three police officers were standing at the door.

Two of them, judging from their appearance, seemed to be local Chinese police officers, wearing dark blue uniforms with batons at their waists, and were smoking idly.

The other was an English detective, blond and blue-eyed, in a crisp police uniform with a revolver at his waist, looking extremely sharp. At that moment, he was standing with his hands behind his back, head down, silent, like a firmly rooted wooden stake.

If it weren't for that damned Xia citizen reporting the case and requesting asylum, who would need to be on this shift...?

At the entrance of the alley not far away, three people watched this scene with worry.

Yang Yuqiao stood at the very front, his body pressed against the wall, only half of his face showing.

He was dressed like a cultured man today, carrying a briefcase, staring intently at the Asia Daily newspaper office, with an indescribable fierceness in his eyes.

The briefcase contained a bomb.

They were all obtained through secret channels, and the technology was learned in Japan.

As for who gets bombed...

If they don't bomb the Asia Daily, are they going to bomb themselves?

The two people behind him were Tan Guifu and Li Sucheng.

Both of them were dressed like intellectuals, but to be honest, their faces and figures were somewhat mismatched.

Unlike Yang Yuqiao's ruthlessness, both of them trembled slightly, not from fear, but from excitement.

The three of them had been standing there for a quarter of an hour.

The wind blew in from the street, carrying a pungent smell of ink.

Yang Yuqiao withdrew his gaze, his face turning grim, and lowered his voice to say:

"There are police officers patrolling the gate, so it's not going to be easy."

Tan Guifu swallowed and said:

"When I came to scout the location yesterday, it wasn't there yet. I didn't expect them to move so quickly. What do we do now?"

Yang Yuqiao answered calmly:

"This proves that our letter has any effect. Xue Dake, that sycophantic scholar, is more afraid of death than anyone else."

Li Sucheng suddenly spoke:

"Then send him to his death!"

The three of them stopped there, and lowered their heads in deep thought.

The question isn't whether to do it, but how to do it.

Not far from the alley entrance, a wonton stand was bustling with people. An old man with a buzz cut was eagerly serving his guests, and the water in the pot was bubbling loudly. The passersby had no idea that three people were discussing something that would cost them their lives.

Giving the Asia Daily a good look was something we'd agreed on long ago.

No one expected Xue Dake to be so brave, daring to ignore even threatening letters. Did he really think the revolutionaries were helpless?

Yang Yuqiao gritted his teeth and said:

"My comrades, if we make a promise, we must keep it. If we back down this time, the Yuan faction will become even more arrogant."

"But to be honest, I'm afraid I won't get out of here unscathed. There are three policemen at the entrance, and who knows how many more inside. If the bomb goes off, all the policemen around will come. Whether I can escape... depends on my luck..."

Tan Guifu trembled slightly, but did not back down.

It's only natural to be a little timid, but true courage is knowing something is impossible yet still daring to be the first.

Li Sucheng adjusted his round-framed glasses and said softly:

"Since we're already here..."

Yang Yuqiao nodded emphatically, looking at Tan Guifu as if to confirm something:

"Brother Tan, tell me the truth, are you afraid or not?"

"Afraid!"

Tan Guifu's voice trembled as he said, "I'm terrified, but can we, as revolutionaries, just give up because we're afraid? How many of our comrades have Yuan's men killed? Now someone wants to open a newspaper in the concession, to sing the praises of Yuan's party. We can't just stand by and watch! I'm not afraid of dying, I'm afraid that even if we die, it will be useless!"

Yang Yuqiao patted him on the shoulder to comfort him.

Li Sucheng encouraged him:

"Bombing the newspaper offices of Yuan Shikai's faction will teach them that Shanghai is not Beiping, and they can't do whatever they want there. Even if we don't kill Xue Dake, destroying his machines and his signboard will terrify those who sing the praises of Yuan Shikai. Working for Yuan's faction can lead to death."

"Yes! If we succeed now, the Yuan faction will know that even with protection, they can't withstand our wrath!"

Yang Yuqiao took out his pocket watch; it was 7:15.

He then pulled a stack of flyers from his briefcase and began to arrange them:

"There are three police officers at the gate, two Chinese and one British. The British officer is in charge, not on guard duty. When I go in, they may or may not stop me."

"No matter what, it's good if it explodes. One of you cover me, and the other will provide backup outside... When the bomb explodes, remember to scatter this stack of leaflets outside so that everyone knows that this is the revolutionaries opposing Yuan Shikai, not a personal grudge."

Li Sucheng took the initiative to say:

"I'll cover you. If anyone tries to stop us, I'll hold them off. Just keep throwing. After that, don't worry about me."

After saying that, he took the flyer and stuffed it into Tan Guifu's hand.

The leaflets were printed on rough white paper, with slogans like "Down with Yuan Shikai," "Oppose the imperial system," "Criminal against the imperial system," and "Long live the common rule, long live the revolution." They were printed crookedly using a hand-carved wax stencil, but the content was still roughly legible.

The three men put their hands together, without saying anything about "living and dying together," then separated, shook hands with each other, and faced death with equanimity.

Then, the three of them walked out of the alley, two in front of the other.

The two people in front walked more and more steadily, like ordinary intellectuals passing by Wangping Street after get off work, looking for a newspaper to subscribe to long-term.

Tan Guifu was ten steps away from the two men, clutching the leaflets tightly in his arms, his palms sweating profusely, but he did not let go.

The patrol officers on duty saw them but couldn't find anything unusual. They put the cigarette back in their mouths and turned to laugh and joke with their colleagues.

Li Sucheng, who was at the front, had almost reached the entrance of the newspaper office, his gaze calmly sweeping over the brown door.

Yang Yuqiao, who was blocked by him, was holding his briefcase and taut the fuse with his right hand. If he used any more force, the gunpowder would be ignited.

We are now only one step away from success.

But then Inspector English looked up.

His gaze swept casually over the two people approaching. They had both lowered their heads again, but suddenly looked up in alarm, pointing at the briefcase in Yang Yuqiao's arms, as if to draw a gun from his waist.

"Stop!"

"What's in the bag?!"

The two patrol officers on duty reacted very quickly, drawing their batons from their waists.

Without a moment to think, Li Sucheng suddenly attacked, rushing to the door, shoving aside the police officers who were trying to stop him, and kicking the door open.

Yang Yuqiao followed closely behind, ripped the fuse open, swung the briefcase, and threw it into the first-floor room.

The briefcase, its fuse sizzling, crashed straight in, and everything slowed down dramatically.

Yang Yuqiao saw that the printing workers, dressed in short shirts and covered in ink, stopped what they were doing and looked at the doorway in horror.

"Grass!"

Didn't we warn you in advance not to come to the newspaper office?

It's too late to say anything now; the bomb that's been thrown can't be stopped.

The briefcase spun a few times in the air, and then:

"boom--!"

The earth is shaking!

Everyone on Wangping Street heard the deafening explosion!

Flames shot out from the doors and windows, glass shattered, and wood chips flew everywhere. Merchants and laborers nearby felt a buzzing in their ears and felt as if they were being pricked by needles.

"what!"

"Aaaaaah!"

"Run!"

The once orderly street was suddenly thrown into chaos.

Thick smoke billowed from the Asia Daily newspaper office, carrying a nauseating smell of burning. The printing press had overturned, the lights had gone out, and people upstairs came to the windows, looking down in terror, their faces ashen.

Li Sucheng grabbed a Chinese constable and knocked him down at the doorway. His clothes were charred, and he looked like he had been turned into charcoal. His upper body was blown apart and could not be recognized.

Yang Yuqiao also collapsed, both arms broken, flesh and bones shattered, face disfigured, blood gushing out. But he didn't immediately lose consciousness, staring wide-eyed at the newspaper office, his lips trembling slightly. Finally, he could no longer hold on, collapsing headfirst and then completely losing consciousness.

Tan Guifu, who was not far away, wanted to rush over to save his colleague, but when he saw that his colleague, who had been lively and energetic just moments before, was now in such a miserable state, his legs went weak and he couldn't obey any commands. He just stood there trembling.

While struggling with his thoughts, he suddenly remembered Yang Yuqiao's words and threw the leaflet in his hand into the air.

"Splash!"

The leaflets flew up in the night sky, like a flock of startled white doves, drifting and floating, until they reached Li Sucheng's sky, gradually falling and covering his unseeing face.

Seeing that the British detective, who was not dead, was about to get up, Tan Guifu took advantage of the chaos in the crowd and turned to run back to the alleyway from which he had come. No one knew where he would end up.

Everything on the street was in chaos after the explosion.

The crowd surged toward this side.

The newspaper office next door, the vendors across the street, the passersby, the rickshaw drivers running by... all stared in disbelief, crowding together at the door, making it impossible to move, trying to figure out what had happened.

"What's going on?!"

"What?!"

"I'm asking you, what's wrong!"

"I! Can't! Hear! It!"

Shouts rose and fell, but no one could hear what the other was saying.

Hua Bu, who had miraculously survived, gradually regained consciousness. He touched his head, noticing that his hat had flown off somewhere. His fingertips were damp and hot, and his eyes were unfocused, as if he had been hit a hundred times.

He's still alive...

Hua Bu frantically checked his body, finding no parts missing. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, he caught sight of his dead colleague, screamed, and rushed towards him, frantically shouting, "Wake up!" but received no response.

Inspector English also got up, the revolver at his waist had slipped from his hand, and blood was gushing from his ear, but he didn't feel it at all.

He looked at the chaotic scene, then at the crowd around him, and raised his hand, shouting:

"Gibberish!"

He meant to say, "Scatter!" but after shouting those words, he realized he couldn't hear himself anymore.

In his desperation, he didn't even confirm the fate of his subordinates, nor did he arrest the assassin immediately. He numbly walked towards the newspaper office, wanting to see if his target was alright.

In the printing workshop, two workers lay dead beside the machines. One had been struck in the head by shrapnel, half his skull severed, and he was beyond saving. The other had been thrown over by the shockwave, crashing into the metal frame of the printing machine. Most critically, shrapnel was embedded in his chest, and blood was everywhere; he was likely dead as well.

Many people were injured, some were knocked unconscious, and some were still able to move and were crawling out through the back door.

Meanwhile, Xue Dake, who was being protected, stood at the top of the stairs with his legs weak and his crotch dripping wet.

"call!"

The English detective breathed a sigh of relief and immediately fainted.

"Splash!"

Several sharp whistles rang out.

Police officers from the surrounding streets arrived late and began clearing the scene.

Some people carried the wounded to the roadside, some covered the dead with white cloths, some drew lines on the ground with chalk, and some drove away the crowd of onlookers.

"Get out! Get out!"

"This is a government investigation! Stay away!"

......

Half an hour later, on Dongxinqiao Street in the French Concession.

Lin Wangzheng was hunched over the table, deep in thought as he looked at the manuscript.

He spent a whole day recalling the story before he finally wrote down the original text of "The Emperor's New Clothes".

The unfolded manuscript paper was covered with arrows and circles. Some places were marked "This alludes to Yuan Shikai," while others were marked "This journey alludes to the Preparatory Committee for the Establishment of Peace." The framework for the adaptation was gradually taking shape.

[Emperor: President Dracula]

[Con artists: Fak Young and Jill Sheehan]

[Minister: The Mighty General and the Honest Chief of Staff]

[Parade: Changed to Coronation Ceremony]

[Greek: At the time of the coronation, a child selling newspapers on a street corner had just shouted, "But he's not wearing any clothes!" when he was covered by a fierce-looking soldier and dragged out of the crowd.]

He is currently considering what would be the most effective replacement for the scammers' organization.

"Clang—"

Shen Zishi, who was playing mahjong with his landlady downstairs, kicked open the door, his clothes disheveled.

Lin Wangzheng was startled. His pen trembled and fell onto the table, splashing ink onto his clothes.

"What are you doing! You scared me to death!"

Shen Zishi said, trembling:

"Fry, fry..."

"What are you frying? If you want fried dough sticks, wait until tomorrow. Where am I supposed to fry them for you now?"

"no!"

"What is that?"

"The Asia newspaper has been bombed!"

"What?!"

Lin Wangzheng immediately perked up and hurriedly got up.

Shen Zishi leaned against the door frame, panting heavily:

"Just received news that the Asia News building was bombed and several people died. Go check it out and see if you can get any news."

Without hesitation, Lin Wangzheng grabbed his notebook and pencil, pulled on his press pass, put on his shoes, and rushed downstairs.

Once on the street, he hailed a rickshaw. Before the driver could speak, he took out a dollar and stuffed it into the driver's hand.

"Quick, bro! Wangping Street! There's been an explosion over there!"

Forget about the money, the mere fact of the explosion was enough to motivate the driver. He shouted, "Hold on tight!" and pulled the rickshaw away as fast as an arrow.

The wind whistled past Lin Wangzheng's ears, and the sound of the car wheels was intermittent.

Surprise interviews are time-sensitive and demanding, requiring no prior preparation and relying entirely on the reporter's skills. In terms of difficulty, they are no less challenging than undercover interviews.

However, Lin Wangzheng believed that he was capable of handling such a situation. He possessed all four qualities and four advantages of a reporter; it was just a matter of how he performed on the spot.

Soon, we arrived at Wangping Street.

The driver stopped the rickshaw on the street because the whole street was blocked.

Lin Wangzheng jumped out of the car and hopped around on the perimeter, but couldn't see anything, so he started squeezing through the gaps. When he encountered someone unwilling, he would say some nice things and ask for a favor.

Soon, people squeezed from the outside to the inside, and then they could see more information.

A line of police officers formed a human wall, holding hands to block the onlookers. Blackish-red bloodstains gleamed under the lights at the entrance of the *Asia Daily* newspaper. Besides them, four people lay covered with white sheets, large patches of crimson blood spreading across the sheets.

There were more than a dozen people sitting on the steps, clutching their bodies and groaning, looking quite badly injured.

"Forget about fighting!"

Suddenly someone shouted.

Lin Wangzheng turned his head and found it was Shi Jiaxiu.

The street is full of newspaper offices, so it's normal for people to come and see what's going on when they hear such a commotion.

He squeezed next to Shi Jiaxiu and called out:

"Uncle Shi, what do you think?"

Shi Jiaxiu shook his head:

"I don't know what's going on, so I'll leave this to you. Do whatever you want."

Lin Wangzheng nodded and continued walking forward until he reached the edge of the human wall.

This time, instead of rushing inside, he took out his notebook, opened it, and wrote on a new page:

[Time: September 11th, approximately 7:20 PM (estimated time). Location: Wangping Street, International Settlement, Shanghai branch of the Asia Daily. Weather: Clear, high visibility. Lighting: Streetlights and surrounding shop lighting; lights on the first floor of the newspaper office were off. Scene: No smoke or dust, a scene of utter chaos, pungent smell of gunpowder. Casualties: At least four dead, covered with white sheets. Thirteen injured, awaiting treatment; all dressed as printing workers. Authorities: Twenty-five police officers, maintaining order. Scene: At least three hundred onlookers, still gathering, creating a chaotic and impassable crowd.]

Every piece of information that could be recorded on-site was recorded clearly, one by one.

Social news has six elements: who, when, where, what, why, and how, also known as the "5W1H" framework, which is the complete news report framework.

Once you arrive at the scene, observe first, noting down any details that can be confirmed with the naked eye, before taking action. Acting without observation will cause you to miss details; missing details will result in an inaccurate report.

However, this content alone is clearly not enough.

"What happened?"

"You didn't know? It exploded! Ten people died, including patrol officers!"

"What the heck? There are only four!"

"What do you know? This is unrecoverable! I saw it with my own eyes, how could it be fake?"

The conversations among passersby became increasingly exaggerated; if they continued, they would say that an explosion would kill hundreds of people.

Faced with this distorted information, Lin Wangzheng decided to conduct interviews according to the pyramid structure, first asking people from the concession authorities and newspapers, and then confirming the information with the help of witnesses.

He scanned the room and found the highest-ranking official present.

The police inspector stood on the steps outside the newspaper office, his hat neatly worn, a notebook in his hand, checking information with several subordinates. His face was grim, as if he had been slapped.

"Mr. McGowan! You must explain the current situation to me!"

Xue Dake rushed up to Mai Gaoyun, shouting angrily, "My men are dead! My newspaper office was bombed! What are you police officers doing? There are three officers standing at the door, and you still let someone throw a bomb in!"

His voice was so loud that it could be heard halfway down the street:

"You must find the organization behind this as soon as possible, arrest them, and hand them over to the Chinese community! Otherwise, you will face the consequences!"

Mai Gaoyun was already embarrassed by such a big incident happening in his jurisdiction, and now that Xue Dake had publicly reprimanded him, his expression grew increasingly unpleasant.

"Mr. Xue, please understand one thing—this is not Beiping; you are a citizen in the foreign concession."

Xue Dake choked for a moment and immediately shut his mouth.

Mai Gaoyun took a deep breath, and his expression gradually calmed down:

"After you received the threatening letter, this office has done everything it could. Two police officers and a British detective were on duty at the entrance. This was the maximum protection this office could provide within its capabilities. If you hadn't insisted on publishing a newspaper here, this wouldn't have happened in our jurisdiction."

They started shifting the blame.

Xue Dake's face turned bright red, his lips trembled, and he wanted to say something, but couldn't get the words out.

Mai Gaoyun ignored him and continued listening to his subordinates' reports. He took the flyer that was handed to him, and after reading the contents, his eyes immediately turned unfriendly.

[Event: The Asia Daily newspaper office was bombed. Note: A threatening letter was received beforehand, and the office sought protection from the police. Key figure: General Manager Xue Dake is unharmed and declares he will severely punish the perpetrators; his attitude is arrogant.]

Lin Wangzheng held up his press pass and shouted:

"Mr. Mai Gaoyun, I am a reporter from the Shen Bao newspaper. Could you tell me some information?"

Xue Dake turned his head at the sound and saw a very familiar face.

He's been staring at that face in photos every day lately; he can picture it even with his eyes closed.

You son of a bitch Lin Wangzheng, aren't you from the Strange Newspaper?

In that instant, he thought of many things and suddenly realized—

Lin Wangzheng wrote good articles in the Strange Newspaper; Lin Wangzheng also wrote good articles in the Shenbao newspaper.

Doesn't that mean that all those previous articles were written by this kid?

No wonder I ran into you at the entrance of the Shen Bao newspaper office before!

He's only eighteen, right?!

On the one hand, Xue Dake was pleased to have finally caught his enemy; on the other hand, he was surprised that his enemy's age did not match his abilities.

Regardless, this man is an enemy of the imperial system. We absolutely cannot let him succeed in his interview, otherwise, who knows how we'll edit the *Asia Daily*. If this gets out in Beijing, where will he put his face?

Xue Dake said urgently to Mai Gaoyun:

"Mr. McGowan, I admit I spoke a little loudly just now, but you absolutely must stop this man!"

......

Mai Gaoyun looked up in dissatisfaction, completely ignoring Xue Dake.

The influence of the newspaper "Shen Bao" has been enormous lately; its report on the rickshaw driver gave the Public Works Department a headache for several days.

However, on the other hand, the fact that Shi Jiaxiu sent a "social donation" to "support public security" is not something that can be taken lightly.

Having received the money, you have to give them some face.

He kicked Xue Dake off the field and waved:

"Let him in."

There was a gap in the human wall, and Lin Wangzheng quickly squeezed through to stand in front of Mai Gaoyun.

Mai Gaoyun glanced at Lin Wangzheng a few times, not connecting him with the rickshaw driver investigation report at all. He just thought the kid was a bit naive and should be easy to fool, so he decided to keep repeating himself.

"Ahem!"

He cleared his throat and, in the official tone characteristic of an English gentleman, said:

"Regarding the incident that occurred tonight on Wangping Street, this office has taken timely and effective measures. The scene has been brought under control, surrounding residents have been evacuated, and necessary medical assistance has been provided to the injured. Currently, the cause of the incident is still under investigation, and this office cannot disclose too many details. However, it can be confirmed that this was a deliberate and organized act of violence, which this office strongly condemns. This office will make every effort to track down the perpetrators and bring them to justice in order to maintain public safety and social order in this concession. At the same time, this office also urges the public to remain calm, not to spread or believe rumors, and to cooperate with this office's investigation. Regarding the specific number of casualties and the details of the incident, this office will provide appropriate explanations to the public through appropriate channels at an appropriate time."

Lin Wangzheng neither refuted nor asked any further questions, but simply wrote down what he had said.

However, after he finished taking notes, he made some annotations.

[Timely and effective measures = the bombing was already done when we arrived]

Necessary medical assistance = calling someone to clean up the mess.

The cause is still under investigation = we haven't found out yet.

We cannot disclose too many details = We don't want to tell you.

[Strongly condemn = We are very angry, but we don't know who we're angry at]

【Going all out to find the perpetrator = there's no guarantee they'll be found】

[Calling on the public to remain calm = Don't cause trouble, or we'll deal with you first.]

Don't spread rumors, don't believe rumors = don't talk nonsense, or we'll deal with you first.

[Providing an appropriate explanation at the appropriate time and through the appropriate channels = never telling you]

Almost all of it is invalid information.

Since Mai Gaoyun was speaking in bureaucratic jargon, Lin Wangzheng simply changed his approach, handing the notebook to Mai Gaoyun, pointing to the corpse on the ground, and asking:

"May I see the deceased's identity? As a journalist, I must know the basic facts in order to provide an accurate report."

Mai Gaoyun speaks excellent Chinese. Looking at the contents of the notebook, he suddenly realized that this seemingly harmless young man was actually extremely dangerous.

"Chief Inspector, you wouldn't want to damage the police department's authority due to distorted information, would you?"

Lin Wangzheng said in a very sunny tone.

Caught off guard, Mai Gaoyun hesitated for a moment, then nodded, pulled out the confiscated leaflets, and waved them in front of Lin Wangzheng:

"If we are not mistaken, this bombing is related to the revolutionary party. However, we do not yet know which organization it is or how many people are involved."

Lin Wangzheng quickly wrote it down:

[Reason: Blanquist-style actions, suspected to be by revolutionaries, aimed at opposing the monarchy]

His confidants uncovered the first body.

He led Lin Wangzheng up to him and said:

"This was one of the assassins in this operation; he died on the spot."

Lin Wangzheng lowered his head and saw that face.

It was a young face, in his early thirties, with a dark complexion, high cheekbones, and tightly closed lips. His face was covered in blood, but his features were still relatively clear.

Its eyes were wide open, as if it had some unfulfilled wish. Its body no longer resembled a human body; even though it was covered by a white sheet, its abdomen was clearly sunken, with large patches of blood seeping out.

Lin Wangzheng quickly wrote: [Dead Person A: One of the bombers, male, approximately thirty years old, identity unknown.]

A close confidant uncovered the second body.

"This officer was dispatched by our unit and unfortunately died in the line of duty."

The face was blurry; only the bluish stubble on the chin was visible.

Lin Wangzheng continued writing: [Dead Person B: Gatekeeper Hua Bu.]

The confidant lifted the white cloth covering the third and fourth corpses.

Mai Gaoyun's voice was devoid of any emotion.

Both men are employees of this newspaper.