Chapter 16

Chapter 17

I sketched out some post-2000 designs from several major computer manufacturers and faxed them to Lu Wei, asking her to modify them as she saw fit. Once the fax went through, I could practically see the surprise and admiration on her face from her gasps over the phone. Though I was stealing other people's design concepts, I felt no guilt-these were all details anyway. Until the product was ready, no effort in any other area counted.

What I never expected was that, after Lu Wei modified them, these designs actually attracted Intel's attention. The planning director at Intel's China office, who had always thought highly of his own planning abilities, called Lu Wei personally. After deftly sidestepping his questions, Lu Wei came to ask me, and I passed along a series of topics Intel would find interesting. Her subsequent conversations with Intel laid the foundation for our partnership. Intel also sounded her out about whether she wanted to work for them, but she declined. Personally, I thought... the main thing was that I could surprise her, while she'd already seen more than enough of Intel's approach at school.

Having two more people to share the work hadn't made Liu Mingyao's life much easier. He was sent to Shenyang's old industrial district to find a suitable computer case manufacturer. Finding an inexpensive factory in Shenyang, a city dominated by heavy industry, wasn't particularly difficult. After spending nearly a week settling the manufacturer, costs, selling prices, and other details, I had Liu Mingyao register a few brands. It wasn't really because I feared copycats; I wanted him to develop the habit.

The first batch of cases was produced and immediately snapped up by several major PC assembly shops in Sanhao. The response was excellent, with none of the tragedy of designs being too far ahead of their time for people to accept them. I felt fucking brimming with ambition and pushed for faster negotiations with Intel. Lu Wei lived up to everyone's high expectations, settling things on essentially the terms I wanted.

Next came Young Dreamer's grand entrance. This had been my intention from the beginning: however you went about acting as someone else's distributor, you were helping them make money. Better to do it for ourselves.

We didn't have the money for TV advertising. Actually, even if we had, I wouldn't have been willing to spend it. I had Zhang Xiaotong write serials for various student magazines and newspapers, waiving payment on the condition that the publications allow passages advertising our business. Few people were resistant to this kind of soft advertising yet. I'd roped Zhang Xiaotong into writing four serials, and she was one step away from taking leave from school to write at home. She pinched me three times a day over this and wouldn't even let me cry out in pain.

By then, we'd secured the HP distributorship too. The target customers for HP and AST didn't clash at all with Young Dreamer's. Sun Electronics pursued both the business and home markets, which I jokingly called "if it won't shine in the east, it'll shine in the west." While maintaining our existing business customers and sales volume, we hired more people to handle Young Dreamer. There really weren't many people in China who understood computers at the time, nor were there many hostile to branded PCs. With Zhang Xiaotong herself serving as our spokesperson, the power of a role model proved boundless: in just one month, our domestic distributors actually grew to as many as twenty.

Late June brought pre-exam revision, as well as the company's busiest period. Zhang Xiaotong didn't dare answer calls during class and had to sneak off somewhere to take them between lessons. Life was exceptionally hard for her. Whenever I had a moment, I comforted her. "As they say, when Heaven is about to entrust someone with a great responsibility, it must first torment them half to death, so they can rise from the dead..." Zhang Xiaotong tugged resentfully at my arm. "Then why don't you come be half-dead with me?"

"No," I said. "Once we get through these exhausting days, I'll die in your place and let you come back to life."

"You're really not going to keep studying?"

I nodded. "What I said was my final decision. There's no need to keep discussing it."

Zhang Xiaotong nodded too. "You have my unconditional support."

"Really?"

"Really."

"...All right, then get this month's manuscripts finished first."

"..."

After nearly a month of grueling covert warfare, Zhang Xiaotong finally reached the school holidays, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. After her exams, she would be entering her final year of junior high, so the school was certain to put in extra hours during the break. I came up with a solution and had Dong Qinghua get her a fake medical record. Having just received a 100,000-yuan cash gift from Zhang Xiaotong, Dong Qinghua practically granted our every request. Zhang Xiaotong told her family she was going out for extra classes while spending every day as busy as the UN secretary-general, all while putting up with my assorted terrible jokes.

The weather grew hot in July, and I was getting a little bored. I asked Zhang Xiaotong, "How much money do we have on hand?"

Zhang Xiaotong had a much better head for numbers than I did. Without a moment's thought, she answered, "About twenty million altogether. Twelve million is company funds, and eight million is available for us to use freely."

I asked her, "You've been a young author for so long. Interested in running a magazine?"

Hearing my question, Zhang Xiaotong probably realized what I had in mind. She answered hesitantly, "A little... but it sounds like a lot of trouble..."

I waved a hand. "That's settled, then. Go find Dong Qinghua and have him look into getting a periodical registration number. If that doesn't work, we'll publish the first few issues as books. I'll write you a proposal. We'll put a team together within two weeks and start a magazine!"

Zhang Xiaotong was a little excited. She was far more interested in writing than I was, and after dealing with so many publishers, she'd probably long wanted to strike out on her own. My suggestion suited her tastes perfectly. If we hadn't both been standing in the street, I reckoned she would have raised both feet in favor.

Dong Qinghua had grown used to Zhang Xiaotong's many surprises and called a friend at Inner Mongolia Press without another word. The response was straightforward: book numbers were plentiful, but a periodical registration number would be difficult.

Without giving it much thought, Zhang Xiaotong decided to take a book number first.

It was our only option. Many magazines that got their start in the early nineties had begun by publishing as books. We weren't exactly rich yet, so naturally we had to follow the same old path.

Learning that Zhang Xiaotong wanted to move into publishing, Dong Qinghua was enthusiastic too. He was an old acquaintance of a senior editor at Spring Breeze Press, whose headquarters were also in Shenyang. Zhang Xiaotong had published books with them before, so none of them were strangers. That female editor, surnamed Ye, gave Zhang Xiaotong a stack of résumés, all from promising young people aspiring to careers in literature and the arts. Zhang Xiaotong brought them back for me to look at, and I shook my head at each one. "This'll be tricky. Most of them need training..."

Still, they were enthusiastically helping us, so we couldn't very well refuse. Zhang Xiaotong and I picked five whose personal introductions weren't quite so literary and contacted them individually. Our editorial team was more or less established.

1993 was the early period of GAME Concentration Camp. I'd originally wanted to make a gaming magazine too, but after careful consideration, I returned to the idea of an entertainment magazine aimed at teenagers. After all, while I wasn't an expert in this area, I did have experience with fashion magazines. Besides, the pressure faced by everything gaming-related in 1993-94 was unimaginable. I didn't want Zhang Xiaotong under too much pressure.

On July 20, Zhang Xiaotong and I made a trip to Shenyang. I went to Sun Electronics to make decisions on several recent proposals, while she visited Deputy Editor-in-Chief Ye at Spring Breeze Press. That evening, we met at the station and compared notes.

Business at Sun Electronics remained better than we'd imagined. I'd always heard about the golden early days of electronics retail, but had never witnessed them myself. Now I finally understood. The money and turnover were practically doubling as they climbed; even robbery wasn't this fast. After reading the summary for the past month or so, I gave Liu Mingyao and Lu Wei two tasks.

First, hire a group of security guards immediately. Both the office building and the retail locations needed coverage, and the guards had to look intimidating and be able to subdue people if things got physical. With more money and better business, we had to guard against such things.

Second, transfer some funds to Beiguan City as soon as possible and apply to invest in a building for a large home-appliance store. I figured the appliance industry's golden age was almost here. Ideally, we'd catch that ride; if not, coming in second would do.

After working through several problems, large and small, Liu Mingyao and Lu Wei still wondered why a little kid like me knew so much, but they no longer doubted my judgment or decisions. They went off to handle their respective tasks.

Their strange expressions made me uncomfortable too, but there was nothing I could do. I could only do what was possible now. If I waited until my body looked seventeen or eighteen, other people would probably have used up all the opportunities and money.

Things had gone very well on Zhang Xiaotong's side. Editor Ye could share some of her resources with us. I told Zhang Xiaotong that Chinese people's promises were only worth so much and weren't guaranteed; we'd still have to build things up slowly ourselves. Whatever else happened, she needed material of her own. Hadn't she never paid herself for her writing? Now she could give it a try.

When we returned to Beiguan City, Dong Qinghua had already arranged a printer for us, and the book number was officially secured. All we needed was to rent an office and install the equipment, and we could begin.

Zhang Xiaotong and I kept after Dong Qinghua until he'd found us two people who could handle art editing.

Dong Qinghua complained to Zhang Xiaotong, "If you keep asking for more, I might as well come work for you myself..."

Zhang Xiaotong smiled without saying anything. She was following my advice now and had switched to being mysterious. Dong Qinghua couldn't very well press her, so he could only do his best to help while waiting for the mystery to be revealed.

Zhang Xiaotong and I moved swiftly, transferring a batch of office equipment from Sun Electronics. Within a week, we'd fixed up the rented office. More or less everything was ready; all it needed was people.

We summoned the promising young people who already had half a foot in literary-hipster territory. Remarkably, all of them knew of Zhang Xiaotong, and Editor Ye had introduced her again as well. Zhang Xiaotong paid little attention to the art editors, instead holding a brief but highly effective conversation with the five text editors.

"I know you're all wholeheartedly interested in serious literature. So am I. I've written science fiction and popular fiction. I've tried all sorts of things, and through those attempts, I learned something: our ideals are far away, and we have to walk toward them one step at a time. If you want to pursue serious literature, you need to ensure two things: money and a name. Money supports your life so you don't have to worry about making a living; a name is something you can use, because many people will accept what you recommend on the strength of it."

"I know many people will dismiss what I'm saying, but I want you to think about this: would you rather be Van Gogh, or Dali and Picasso? I hope everyone aspiring to a career in literature and the arts will be the latter. You bring others spiritual wealth, and they bring you material wealth."

"Our magazine will start out as an entertainment magazine for teenagers. If you still want to stay and work here, please think about this: if you don't even know how to make people happy, how can you create works that influence their emotions?"

"That's all I have to say. Those willing to stay, please sign here. I'd like to print your names on the cover of our first issue."

No one spoke. Zhang Xiaotong's words had been simple and brief, and they were all thinking.

I crouched against the wall outside the editorial department, staring blankly at the blue sky and white clouds beyond the corridor. No one came out. These people would be the founding veterans of our print-media business. I knew they would lead a great many people, and even lead the times.

Crimson Youth launched, and I felt I had gained control over just a little something. In the not-too-distant future, perhaps I would control more.