Chapter 127: 3,152 Orders by Remittance

Receiving letters, recording remittances, counting subscribers, collecting survey forms, gradually sorting and comparing everything—the entire country was on holiday, yet Dream Sky Magazine had plunged into an endless frenzy of activity.

Along with Zhang Ye, there were only five employees. Their eyes were bloodshot, and every one of them worked from eight in the morning until midnight. Their eyes scarcely rested at all. When they were tired, they lay down for a moment; when they were hungry, they grabbed a few bites of whatever was at hand. They truly never stopped.

Yet despite the frantic pace, despite being constantly on their feet and utterly exhausted, everyone at the magazine was caught up in excitement and exhilaration. An unprecedented sense of achievement was taking root in their hearts.

“We have to hire people. We absolutely have to hire people!” Zhang Ye roared as he once again buried himself in the mountain of letters.

As the magazine’s de facto owner, no one would have blamed him if he had chosen not to do the work. Sorting the letters had been his own idea at first—he had wanted to see how readers were responding—but he soon discovered that he had volunteered for the most miserable job of all.

“How is it? Have the figures been tallied?” After working late into the night, Zhang Ye had finally managed to take a short break when a young editor from the editorial department came in. He hurriedly rose to his feet and asked the question.

The reason he had waited until now was that he was most concerned about the subscription remittance figures. They were the foundation of the entire magazine. The number of subscription forms directly determined the magazine’s print run—and, more importantly, had a direct bearing on his wallet. He had every reason to care.

“As of tonight, we’ve received 1,321 full-year subscriptions for next year and 1,030 half-year subscriptions, bringing in a total of 193,900 yuan.” The young editor was visibly thrilled. He paid no attention to his bloodshot eyes and waved his hand fiercely. His dry, yellowish hair, which had gone untended for several days, bounced up and down in a mischievous little dance.

“Adding the 801 subscription forms already received by Aunt Wang… that means that as of today, we’ve received 3,152 remittance slips in total. The total amount collected is nearly 250,000 yuan…” Zhang Ye’s face was practically split by his grin.

He could now make an initial determination: his magazine had succeeded. Completely, spectacularly, and beyond all imagination—with an unexpected delight thrown in.

The next day, Zhang Ye’s mobile phone rang.

As the people around him began earning money, almost everyone had one of these phones in their pockets. Even if they rarely used them, simply having one to display in front of outsiders brought them considerable prestige.

The call was from Zhao Haidong. A couple of days earlier, the boy had arranged a mountain-climbing trip with his classmates. Though he had returned complaining endlessly about how tired he was, the smile had never left his face. That very evening, he had called Zhang Ye and bragged about it without pause.

Apparently, he and Huang Meixia had made astonishing progress during the trip?

“Boss Zhang, do you still want the Internet cafe or not? You haven’t come by once in more than half a month, and Brother Tao is starting to complain.”

Zhao Haidong was obviously at the Internet cafe. Mobile phones had exceptionally loud speakers in those days; even a conversation several meters away could be heard from the other side. Zhang Ye could hear the players excitedly pounding their keyboards.

Zhang Ye smiled bitterly.

Come to think of it, he really was a rather irresponsible owner. As for the Internet cafe, apart from keeping an eye on things during its early days, he had visited fewer times than one could count on a single hand in the month since it had opened.

The magazine was short-handed, but it was not yet unbearably busy. After the initial period of adjustment, everything had settled into a routine. With that in mind, Zhang Ye changed direction and headed for Culture Street.

In the month since he had last visited, Culture Street had changed considerably. In the past, the street had been dominated by ordinary general stores selling clothing, food, and daily necessities. There had been a few arcades, but they were all quite small.

Now, however, Zhang Ye saw several computer shops along the way. Each had four or five computers running, and every one was packed with customers. Counting them carefully, he found five or six in total. One was especially large. It stood directly opposite his Sword Unsheathed Internet Cafe. It had once been an arcade, but had since been converted into a computer shop, with row upon row of machines—at least twenty of them.

“Ever since our Internet cafe took off, these people have all gotten ideas. I don’t know which bastard went around telling everyone how much we were earning. They come over every day, and some have even tried to poach our customers and steal our business directly.”

Wu Dongjun spoke angrily when he saw Zhang Ye arrive.

“I expected this long ago. Whenever an industry starts making money, it inevitably attracts countless imitators. As long as we hold on to our advantage at the source and stay one step ahead of them in everything, we’ll be able to remain invincible.”

Zhang Ye nodded and followed him into the Internet cafe.

Because he had specifically insisted on maintaining a clean environment from the very beginning, the air quality inside was still fairly decent. It was somewhat stuffy, but not too bad. Since it was the National Day holiday, every computer was occupied. Those who had failed to get a seat stood behind the others, watching the screens and shouting excitedly along with every move.

The longer they played, the more deeply addicted they became to the games. Whenever someone made an impressive move, a chorus of cheers erupted, as if they were watching a battle.

“Brother Ye!”

“Brother Ye, you finally came!”

Liu Guangxiang, Chen Fang, and the others hurried over to greet Zhang Ye. Zhao Haidong was in the small booth Zhang Ye had left behind, playing furiously, his entire face flushed with excitement.

Although Zhang Ye had taken one computer away, they had kept the booth and installed another machine there. It was reserved for their own use and was not counted among the computers available for business.

“Where’s Brother Tao?” Zhang Ye asked with a smile as he followed them toward the counter.

The shop was simply too small. Once all the computers had been installed, there was barely any room left to move around. It did not obstruct passage entirely, but it was far from convenient.

“He’s inside. Sister Mei came today too, so they might be…” Liu Guangxiang wore a sly, knowing grin.

By now, everyone knew that Liu Wentao was the owner of the Internet cafe. He had made something of himself, become wealthy, and brought honor to his family. The praise from his neighbors was endless, and their attitude toward him was completely different from before.

As a result, Zhou Hanmei’s father had finally stopped objecting to the two of them seeing each other. Neither of them was especially young anymore, and in the surrounding area, people even married at sixteen or seventeen. Since they were genuinely fond of each other, it had taken only a few days for them to agree on a wedding date: New Year’s Day, January first.

“You little rascal.” Zhang Ye laughed and cursed him lightly.

Although none of them had yet married or established families, they naturally understood such matters. They joked around without disturbing Liu Wentao, then turned their attention back to the business.

Still, Liu Wentao was being unfairly accused. He and Zhou Hanmei were indeed meeting secretly inside, but they had done nothing else—at most, they held hands and chatted. They could not have been more innocent.

People in those days were far more reserved than children in later generations.