Jenny's lunch was quite abundant. She packed a beef sandwich, bought a cream roll cake, and a paper box of cucumber and cheese salad. She returned to the office, ate slowly, then brewed a pot of tea and sipped it slowly. Mr. Eliot had gone to a quarterly meeting today and was not in the office. Jenny handled his business correspondence and wrote greeting letters to a few writers they cooperated with in the past but not currently. Such tasks were no challenge for her, and she found herself with time on her hands. Bored, she propped her chin on her hands and glanced into Frank's office; it was empty too, with only Fujena sitting outside. William, whom she had met on the stairwell earlier, came back after a while and nodded at Jenny without any other sign. Jenny was about to pick up a newspaper when Cowens came over with a small stack of manuscripts, looking troubled, and sat down at her desk. "Jenny, I heard you're good at selecting manuscripts. I have a problem..." Jenny's eyes lit up. "What problem? Tell me." Cowens said that recently he had been pestered by two unknown authors. They kept submitting the same manuscript to him. He thought their skill was adequate, so he gave them some writing advice and sent it back. Each time, the revisions were not satisfactory, but they persisted. Jenny took the manuscript, glanced at it a few times, and immediately saw the issue. "For our kind of contemporary popular reading material, we need something that can make money in the market right away, that can attract the lower market. The requirement for readability is higher, for depth is lower. Although it doesn't completely lack aesthetic value, it doesn't pursue eternal fame like philosophical literature. Their mindset is a bit off." Cowens listened, his gaze shifting from confusion to surprise. "Just by looking at the story they wrote, you can guess their mindset?" "Of course. For example, how an author handles the personal fate of a character can define the book. If a villain is written very complex, three-dimensional, and understandable, even though he does many bad things, readers won't hate him. If his death is memorable and readers feel sorry for him, but the protagonist leaves no impression, then the author sacrificed story for literary villain creation, ruining the whole thing. After reading such a story, you'd think the villain is novel and memorable, and the writing is excellent. But at the same time, you'd find the protagonist flat and hypocritical, unable to understand their motives, so the reading experience isn't satisfying. Sometimes, to write a bestseller, you must align with popular thought, be more accessible, keep the line between good and bad clear, and have clear stances." Cowens had an epiphany and paused. "That's true. Now I know the problem with these two. In their stories, supporting characters suddenly have religious awakenings and betray their original standpoints." Cowens had been Frank's clerk since joining the company, never handled manuscript selection, only wrote columns. He didn't expect manuscript selection and dealing with authors to be so deep. He had developed an eye and taste for good stories, able to spot them immediately, but couldn't deeply analyze why they were good. Before leaving, Cowens said he wanted to treat Jenny to dinner after work so she could teach him all these nuances. Jenny agreed readily, then remembered she had already made plans with Frank for tonight, so she suggested Cowens invite Frank along. "No problem. Let him witness it. I'm going to worship you as my teacher." Cowens chuckled and left with his things. Soon, Jenny saw the large group returning from the quarterly meeting upstairs. They entered the office and then swarmed into a meeting room for an internal meeting. They had lunch provided during the meeting, eating at an outside restaurant before returning. All seven chief editors of the magazine department, all managers, important editors, and secretaries were called up. At the boss's place, they all listened to the distribution department report on public sales, and the business department report on market feedback and advertising performance. When they came back, no one looked happy, but no one looked dejected either—hard to tell whether the situation was good or bad. Jenny saw Clare get up to inquire, so she stayed put. After a while, Mr. Eliot came out, and the office dispersed. Jenny learned the latest news. It turned out the distribution department had reported quarterly sales renewal rates. Since the new editorial team took over, sales had slightly declined compared to the past, but the later issues caught up and remained on par with the previous troubled team. Not a loss, but not a win either, so everyone's mood was understandable. But that wasn't all. According to market feedback from the business department, the number of ad placements under the column section had decreased, but the discussion about the long and short stories published in the weekly was high. Jenny learned that some short story writers she had dealt with as a window clerk had increased in value, from unknown to having good market prospects. She pondered that these two data points indicated that many readers were attracted by the stories and returned each issue, and this number might grow. However, the quality of the lifestyle column was not so good, causing advertisers to hesitate before placing ads. In a magazine, the serial section's task is to attract readers, draw public attention to the publication, and make it commercially valuable. The fixed column section's task is to use the magazine's commercial value to increase advertising revenue, earning high budgets for the whole weekly to maintain high-quality content. This results in a cheap retail price but huge advertising fees. Both are indispensable. The acting boss, after seeing the results, kept the weekly's chief editor, Mr. Baker, after the meeting and gave him some instructions. When Mr. Baker returned, he called a meeting to inform the weekly staff that the boss intended to reduce ad slots in the fixed columns and expand the serial story section. This move aimed to further increase subscriptions, raise advertising fees higher, and screen for higher-quality partners. In the fixed column section, besides the editor's commentary column, there were six pages of various ad columns. On these six pages, column editors would write copy, product introductions, product stories, and biographies for clients who placed ads. Single ad fees were around a few hundred dollars. Filling all six pages could earn thousands of dollars at once, amounting to tens of thousands in monthly ad revenue. Everyone in the office was calculating this; if ads decreased and prices rose without buyers, wouldn't it be a big risk? This cut hit the weekly's artery, and everyone was like ants on a hot pot. Mr. Baker wrote a letter to his own boss, who was recuperating, and received a reply telling him to follow the acting partner's arrangement. Mr. Baker had to agree and came back to arrange specific changes. He went to Mr. York, the head of the fixed periodical section, and talked with him and his two editors. He also went to Mr. Alpha, Eliot, and the new editor Johnson who replaced Sharpe. To expand the story section, Mr. Alpha was the sole beneficiary, delegating more authority to Eliot. He required Eliot to prepare at least two serial stories and three short stories every week to fill the pages. Due to the big boss's minor adjustment, Eliot's workload suddenly doubled. Although he believed he was capable, he felt overwhelmed. Mr. Alpha made concessions to Eliot in terms of compensation, promising to increase his team's overall budget. Eliot immediately agreed. With budget, everything was fine; he could hire two assistant editors, two typists, and another clerk. Mr. Alpha approved Eliot's expansion. When Eliot's intention reached Clare, it struck him like a thunderbolt. He had been the second-in-command under Eliot for so long, and suddenly a new position at his level appeared; he was extremely unwilling. But this wasn't something Clare could resolve at its root. It was a departmental development trend. As an assistant editor, he couldn't fight business policy. His only option was to influence the selection of the new assistant editor. The day Mr. Alpha approved the expansion, he started busy gathering information, trying to find out whether the leadership would bring in an outsider or promote from within. If it was an outsider, he had ways to isolate and exclude them. If it was an internal promotion, he feared William or Jenny might get the chance to be his equal. Meanwhile, in New York at dusk, a cool spring breeze blew along the waterfront. Frank took Jenny to a restaurant near the pier for their date. Frank, as Mr. Alpha's secretary, knew his intentions well. "His original idea was to let Ronald be the assistant editor, to build up his credentials. But Eliot refused, and Ronald himself didn't want to continue serving Eliot, so it fell through." Mr. Alpha was actually the senior partner's man placed in the weekly. "So now, Mr. Alpha allows Eliot to expand entirely according to his own wishes?" Jenny asked Frank. Frank nodded. "As far as I know, the chief editor and Mr. Alpha have no other candidates to promote now. Mr. York can't interfere either. So it's up to Mr. Eliot." Knowing who had the final say made things much easier. "In this situation, William or I have the best chance. I need to perform well. Even if I don't become assistant editor, I can still get a typist position. What do you think I should do now?" she asked him. "Do nothing." Frank looked out the window, his tone playful. "Clare and William are probably too anxious to sleep now, both eager to show off. As long as you stay calmer than them and behave normally in front of Mr. Eliot, when they make mistakes by doing too much, you'll have your chance." ...
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