"Make it up yourselves."
Everyone in the conference room was left battered and bewildered by Le Yu's words.
"But isn't that fabrication?" Mu Qingmei couldn't help asking.
"What did you think? That you'd joined some proper newspaper?" Le Yu shot back.
Everyone was rendered speechless. Right—that was a newspaper run by the Jing family. Not smearing people and spreading rumors was already a mercy. If they thought about it carefully, merely making up an answer almost gave them the illusion that this might not actually be such a bad thing.
"But how are we supposed to make them up?" someone asked. "We explain our own views based on the topic, then invent a new identity for ourselves?"
"No, no, no." Le Yu waved a finger. "Come to think of it, you probably don't know why you were hired, do you? Some of you write well, some of you think deeply, but some of you write plainly and think superficially..."
"But you all have one thing in common: you have good imaginations."
Le Yu suddenly pointed at a young editor. "For example, you. Your identity now is a young man who wants to become the village chief, and your name is Naruto!"
"Oh." The young editor froze.
"You want to become the village chief because your parents died when you were young. The villagers all said you were an ill-starred orphan, so they hated you and kept their distance. But it wasn't as if you had no friends. Grandpa Village Chief also took good care of you, and your elementary teacher often invited you to eat noodles."
"So you want to become the village chief because you want the villagers to love and welcome you. You want to win everyone's recognition."
"Now, if you were answering the question, 'What are we