Soul Returns to Hong Kong: From Tailor Shop to Richest Woman

Lin Ying walked to the desk and pulled out a large leather office chair: "Since you don't trust others, why don't you try it yourself, teacher?"

Zhou Yawen took a half-step back warily: "Test what?"

"Typing."

"I don't know how to use this kind of foreign machine."

"I'll teach you; it's just a few keystrokes, very simple."

Zhou Yawen said she wouldn't, but her body betrayed her, and she walked over and sat down in the chair.

Lin Ying walked past her, skillfully pressed the power button on the main unit, and opened the word processing interface. The screen lit up, and a glaringly blank document appeared before her eyes.

Zhou Yawen stared at the white background, her expression somewhat tense.

Lin Ying pushed the keyboard towards her: "If you can't remember the Chinese character roots now, you can try typing a line of English first."

Zhou Yawen glanced at her, stretched out her fingers, and awkwardly typed a few letters on the keyboard.

A line of text popped up on the screen.

Night returns with rain.

Her first time using a computer: "It actually came out!"

Lin Ying pointed to the upper right corner of the keyboard: "If you make a mistake, just use this backspace key to delete it and retype it. It won't leave a trace."

Zhou Yawen tried pressing the backspace key, deleted a word, and then typed it back in. It was the shock of a creator who had been tormented by heavy handwriting for years touching an electronic writing tool for the first time;

"It's nothing special," Zhou Yawen said, feigning composure as she left the keyboard.

Lin Ying didn't call her out on her stubbornness: "If the teacher writes a lot in the future, she can really consider buying one herself. Although the machine is expensive, for writers, the energy and time saved can be used to write more valuable stories."

"Sixty-five thousand." Zhou Yawen glanced at her coldly. "Do you think I, who just sold the copyright for 130,000, can immediately come up with half that amount to buy this?"

"You can buy the slightly cheaper, lower-spec version."

"That's expensive too."

"Therefore, we need to make sure our next book sells for a good price." Lin Ying brought the topic back.

Zhou Yawen fell silent.

Lin Ying pulled over a small round stool and sat down: "Teacher, you just said you had seven or eight books. What kind of books are they?"

Zhou Yawen thought for a moment and began to take stock of her collection: "Most of them are suspense novels. Two of them are more socially conscious; one is about a locked-room murder in an old Western-style building; the other is about a missing girl at a girls' school. There's also one with a stronger romance element, but it also has a case under the guise of romance."

"A girls' school disappearance case?" Lin Ying's eyes widened in surprise. This was too daring to write!

Zhou Yawen glared at her: "What kind of look is that? I'm writing a fictional novel, not about our Boya Academy!"

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face clearly says it!" Zhou Yawen said angrily.

Lin Ying skipped over the topic: "Teacher, please continue."

Zhou Yawen snorted: "That book about the missing girls' school isn't finished yet. Only a small part of it was serialized in the newspaper's supplement before. Later, I felt that the plot was too messy, so I stopped writing it."

Lin Ying pressed further, "Are all the manuscripts for these books still there?"

"exist."

"Where are the clippings from the newspaper serial?"

"Also there."

"What about the initial contract and original receipt for submitting the article to the newspaper?"

"He should be here too..."

"should?"

Zhou Yawen felt a little guilty under her interrogation: "I'm so busy teaching, and my house is a bit messy. I'm sure I can find it when I go back."

Lin Ying became serious: "Teacher, starting today, all of these things need to be organized and archived. Manuscripts, newspaper clippings, submission dates, replies to manuscripts, payment slips—anything that can prove that the text is your original work must be categorized and kept properly."

Zhou Yawen looked at her and listened attentively.

Lin Ying continued, "It's best to buy a separate file folder for each book and clearly write the title, completion date, and publication information on the cover. As for unpublished manuscripts, make a record of sending them to yourself via registered mail. In the future, whenever copyright transactions are involved, whether it's an investor or a director, anyone who wants to see your outline must first sign a confidentiality agreement."

Zhou Yawen frowned: "Why make it so complicated?"

"The moat of copyright is built up little by little through this kind of trouble," Lin Ying explained. "What you find troublesome now will be very convenient for others when they can easily take your hard work and modify it."

These words silenced Zhou Yawen.

Looking at the eleven-year-old student in front of her, she suddenly felt a sense of absurdity.

"What about 'Night Taboo'?" Zhou Yawen asked. "The contract is finalized; what can be done to salvage the situation now?"

"I can arrange a meeting with Uncle Su for you," Lin Ying offered, "but not today, and not for you to go alone. It would be best if your agent or a knowledgeable lawyer were also present."

Zhou Yawen became wary: "You're not going?"

"It's not appropriate for me to go," Lin Ying shook her head. "I'm a student, and I was invited by my second uncle to come and see the project storyboard. If I were to sit at the negotiating table and fight for your consulting fee, that would be considered betraying you, and it would completely mess up our relationship."

Zhou Yawen understood. Lin Ying could be the one to hand her the knife and draw the line, but she couldn't directly rush to the front and fight Su Zhihao for her.

"However, I can give you a detailed list first." Lin Ying stood up. "Which terms are negotiable, which bottom lines cannot be crossed, and which words must never be uttered at the negotiating table—I will write them down for you one by one."

Zhou Yawen said, "List them now."

Lin Ying glanced at the clock on the wall: "Teacher, it's almost five o'clock, aren't you going home for dinner?"

Zhou Yawen said expressionlessly, "Selling it for 130,000 is a loss. I have no appetite at all now."

"Shall I cook you a bowl of noodles?"

Zhou Yawen was somewhat surprised; this student was incredibly talented!

Lin Ying added, "I only know how to cook simple noodles in water."

Zhou Yawen didn't mince words: "Add a fried egg."

Lin Ying smiled and turned to go to the kitchen.

Zhou Yawen sat alone in the study, her gaze returning to the 65,000 yuan computer screen.

The line of English letters on the screen is still there.

Night returns with rain.

She stared at the line of words, suddenly feeling a little dazed. So it turned out that writing hundreds of thousands of words really didn't require the arduous task of copying page by page, didn't require rewriting three pages just to change the name of a minor character, and didn't require staying up late at night writing until her wrists ached and cramped.

It's good to be rich; it's even better to know how to use the rules to make money.

Not long after, Lin Ying came out of the kitchen carrying two steaming bowls of noodles. She placed one bowl on the coffee table and pushed it in front of Zhou Yawen, with a golden-fried egg on top of the soup noodles.

Zhou Yawen didn't stand on ceremony and picked up her chopsticks to eat; after the hot soup went down, her turbulent emotions calmed down a bit.

After taking a few bites, she put down her chopsticks: "Lin Ying."

"Hmm?" Lin Ying looked up.

"Tell me, if I sell all seven or eight books I have according to your rules for a good price... will I be able to afford a set of Taikoo City books in the future?"

Lin Ying thought for a moment: "If two books are published, we can buy more than one set. The premise is that, from now on, the teacher shouldn't do anything like selling a gold mine for 130,000 again."

Zhou Yawen stared at her for a while, then chuckled softly, "You're such an annoying student."

Lin Ying lowered her head and continued eating her noodles: "The teacher already mentioned this once today."

After finishing her noodles, Zhou Yawen took the paper and pen handed to her by Lin Ying and began to write down the names of the works in her hand one by one, relying on her memory.

"Night Taboo", "Rain Sounds in the Old Building", "The Thirteenth Letter", "The Case of the Missing White Rose", and "Midnight Tram".

When she was writing her eighth book, "The Woman Behind the Glass Window" and "Seven Days at the Girls' School," her pen stopped on the paper.

Lin Ying looked over and asked, "Why isn't this book finished?"

Zhou Yawen held her pen: "The title of this book hasn't been finalized yet. It's not finished being serialized, but I've always felt... it might be the book I've written so far that has a pretty good structure."

Lin Ying didn't press for details about the content, only saying, "Then we must make sure the copyright is firmly in our own hands."

Zhou Yawen nodded and wrote down the last tentative title: "The Silent Witness".

On the paper, the eight book titles are neatly arranged in a row.

Lin Ying looked at the paper and understood. When Uncle Su came to her this afternoon with "Night Taboo," he thought he had found a cheap, exotic novel.

But he had no idea that what Zhou Yawen truly valued was never this book.

Zhou Yawen still has a bunch of good suspense scripts that she hasn't dug up yet. If she could film them all, it would be enough for TV stations to produce prime-time content for several years.

Zhou Yawen capped her pen, folded the paper, and put it in her bag: "I'll bring part of the manuscript to Taikoo City to find you after school tomorrow."

Lin Ying looked up: "Only bring a portion?"

Zhou Yawen looked at her, and her tone finally regained some of the shrewdness that "Zhou the Skinflint" should have.

"Of course it's only a part," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't even trust Su Zhihao's written contracts anymore, so why would I hand over my entire fortune to you, my student, all at once?"

Lin Ying nodded in satisfaction: "Teacher, you learn the rules very quickly."

Zhou Yawen stood up and slung her handbag over her wrist.

"There's one more thing: you'll still be my student at school. You'll still have to memorize the vocabulary during tomorrow's morning self-study session, hand in your reading report as usual, and don't even think about slacking off as the math class representative."

Lin Ying obediently replied, "Yes, Teacher Zhou."

Zhou Yawen walked to the entrance, changed her shoes, and put her hand on the doorknob. "When my next book sells for a good price, I'm going to buy a computer that costs 65,000 yuan."

Lin Ying smiled: "I can buy it anytime."