In the strong morning sunlight of Manhattan,
Wang Jian walked out of the bank.
He was holding a small booklet, flipping through it with interest.
This is a checkbook?
Sign your name, fill in the amount, and it can be used as money?
That seemed kind of fun.
He stood on the bustling streets of Manhattan, feeling his backbone stiffer than ever before.
So...
He swelled with confidence.
He walked into a real estate agency in Manhattan, ready to rent an apartment here.
Half an hour later.
Wang Jian stumbled out of the real estate agency.
A one-bedroom apartment, and they were asking for a 1000 US Dollar monthly rent?
And it was one of those apartments built during World War II, older than he was?
Why did Hitler only bomb London; why didn't he come bomb Manhattan!
The most crucial problem was, they required a personal credit record and proof of income.
For someone like him, who couldn't provide those, he had to go to a guarantor company and pay three months' rent to get a guarantee contract.
Only then would landlords be willing to rent their properties to you.
As for buying an apartment?
Wang Jian didn't even dare inquire about the prices.
Sigh…
Forget it, forget it.
Actually, Brooklyn wasn't too bad.
It was said that rent there was only slightly higher than in the Bronx District, but the safety was much better compared to the Bronx.
More importantly, it didn't have as many annoying rules as Manhattan.
He looked at the distant signs of Morgan Bank and Goldman Sachs Group, feeling amazed.
Manhattan truly was the heart of the global finance industry.
There were so damn many rich people here.
Wang Jian calculated in his mind.
44,000 US Dollars in New York City just barely allowed him to escape poverty and achieve a basic standard of living.
Time was running out.
He had to quickly transcribe "Arcane Throne," the story in his mind, to see if he could make some more money.
With a heavy heart, he boarded the bus back to the Bronx District.
He planned to start translating the first volume of "Arcane Throne" as soon as he got back to his apartment and while awaiting the afternoon community work.
The bus slowly started moving.
The crowd, dressed in suits hurriedly, was gradually left behind.
Half an hour later.
Wang Jian got off the bus and immediately saw bloodstains and several pots of chrysanthemums at the spot where two groups of Black people had confronted each other that morning.
He took a deep breath.
Yep, still that unique sense of freedom of the Bronx District.
Wang Jian didn't linger. He bought two hamburgers at the roadside and then returned to his apartment.
Sitting on the apartment's sofa, he munched on the hamburgers while scribbling down the novel from his memory using Chinese characters.
Then, he would make appropriate changes to make it align more with American life.
Finally, translate it from Chinese to English.
After writing the synopsis and the first tens of thousands of words, he could submit his manuscript.
He already had "I'm a Great Mage" as a foundation,
So, his new book should secure a guaranteed advance and a decent royalty rate.
Just as he was writing furiously,
The telephone rang.
Wang Jian frowned.
Being suddenly disturbed while deeply engrossed in something was particularly annoying.
He reluctantly answered the phone, while making a decision.
If it's another sales pitch, I'll just unplug the phone line later.
"Hello, this is Omnicom Advertising's Food Advertising Department. My name is Lynn, an Advertising Planner. May I speak to Mr. Wang Jian, the author of 'I'm a Great Mage'?"
An advertising company?
What could they possibly want with me?
Wang Jian answered the call with slight confusion, "That's me. What can I do for you?"
"Well, our company would like to obtain the advertising rights to 'I'm a Great Mage.' When would you be available for us to meet and discuss this in detail?"
Advertising rights to 'I'm a Great Mage'?
Wang Jian looked at the phone receiver with some suspicion. Was this some kind of scam?
How could one authorize that?
Would they want a section added specifying that only eating a particular brand of corn rolls can increase Magic Power?
You've got to be joking...
Wang Jian was about to refuse when he heard the voice on the other end add, "We will offer you a very generous compensation based on the duration."
Generous compensation?
Wang Jian's eyes lit up.
Maybe...
it wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.
Even Popeye eats "bobo" brand canned spinach.
Maybe Mike eating a branded corn roll...
wouldn't be too excessive?
He mulled over the idea.
Suddenly, he remembered the tough lesson learned when signing the deal with the publisher.
Uh...
better to stall for a bit.
At the very least, I'd need to consult a lawyer, right?
So Wang Jian said, "I'm not available to discuss this now. Leave me your contact information, and I'll get in touch in a few days."
"Your authorization is very important to our company, and we are very sincere..." The voice on the other end continued trying to persuade him persistently.
Finally, after over ten minutes of flattery, the caller left their contact information.
"Lynn, phone: xxx."
Wang Jian hung up the phone, looked at the slip of paper in his hand, and carefully tucked it into his manuscript of 'Arcane Throne'.
Then, he raised his head and began to contemplate.
Where should I find a lawyer?
Meanwhile, at the Omnicom Advertising office in Manhattan.
Lynn put down the handset, somewhat frustrated, and rubbed her fiery red hair.
The department supervisor beside her asked, "How did it go? What did the other party say?"
"He said he'd talk about it in a few days," Lynn looked up at her supervisor. "But it seems that he hasn't granted the rights to any other advertising company yet."
"Do you have this Wang Jian's address? If it comes down to it, I'll go and talk to him in person."
The Bald Director's bald forehead wrinkled slightly, and after a moment, he returned to his desk and pulled out a photocopy.
He told Lynn, "This is Wang Jian's address. But remember, you didn't get this from me; you found out on your own, got it?"
Lynn took the photocopy, smiled, and said to her supervisor, "Don't worry, I know the rules."
The Bald Director grinned, "We're establishing a new department in our subsidiary, whose main responsibility will be to integrate advertising with popular culture to better attract the attention of young people."
He paused, glanced at Lynn, and continued, "I think you're very good, really promising."
Lynn was initially startled, then solemnly nodded at her boss.
She then returned to her desk and began reading a thick book spread out on her desktop.
Upon closer inspection, it was 'I'm a Great Mage'.
"Just typical artists," Lynn thought as she read, "Complimenting their work upon meeting them is never wrong, even if it's crap."
"But, this book does seem quite interesting."
At that moment, at Random House.
A young editor was packing up his belongings.
The colleagues around him said indignantly, "It was you who suggested reviewing 'I'm a Great Mage,' and the chief editor rejected it."
"How come after the investigation, it turned out you directly rejected the manuscript and the chief editor never saw it?"
"It doesn't matter, I wasn't happy in my job anyway," the young man said with a smile. "Besides, I'm not leaving the publishing industry."
"As a freshly minted publishing agent, you guys better introduce me to some good authors," he said, placing his name badge on the office desk.
It read: "Tom Sol."