After a brief moment of thought, Wang Jian stood up and began searching for the business card of the young editor named Roy.
Whatever it took, he had to earn back the posting fee.
After calling Roy and being told he could bring the complete manuscript to Scholastic Publishers' New York office, he tidied up the rejection letter on the table and tossed it into the pile of miscellaneous items.
Then, Wang Jian rummaged through his limited wardrobe, dug out that cheap suit he hadn't worn in a long time, took off his sneakers, put on leather shoes, and applied some hair gel.
Then, he walked out of the room.
El, who was watching TV on the couch, was firstly stunned upon seeing Wang Jian and then burst into "haha" laughter.
Feeling awkward, Wang Jian twisted his body and asked, "How do I look? Ridiculous?"
El finally managed to stop laughing, "Actually, it's okay once you get used to it. It's just that the style change is a bit too dramatic. What are you up to?"
"I'm heading to the publisher," Wang Jian replied. "My story might get published."
"Wow," El exclaimed, "the story they talked about?"
"Then here's wishing my big shot, mega sales on your album. May your story get published smoothly, and let's get out of this damned Bronx together."
Wang Jian just bumped fists with him, without responding any further.
He really couldn't bring himself to tell him that his story could probably only earn 400 US Dollars.
Wang Jian caught a bus at the Bronx station.
After transferring three times, he finally arrived at the legendary Manhattan.
It seemed like a completely different world from the Bronx.
No longer were there young black men wearing gang bandanas and tucking guns in their waists everywhere; instead, there were armed police patrolling all over the place.
This filled Wang Jian with intense irony.
The safest place had the most police.
The real United States characteristic.
Scholastic Publishers' New York office wasn't as wealthy as Random House or Penguin Publishing, which could afford to have their offices inside the Empire State Building.
Their office was located on a street adjacent to Fifth Avenue.
After making his way through the hurried crowd, Wang Jian arrived in front of a not-so-tall office building.
Then, he straightened out his clothes, took a deep breath, and walked inside.
…
"You say, where the problem is in my book, I'll change it, I will change it for sure!"
…
"Boss, if you hand in your manuscript on time, I could send a different girl to your place every day."
…
After consulting with the front desk lady, Wang Jian headed to Roy's office.
Passing by the other offices, the voices coming from inside made him reflect on how unimaginable the gap was in treatment between famous writers and ordinary ones.
Three minutes later, Wang Jian left the cubicle-shaped collective office area and came to the private offices of the responsible editors.
These responsible editors were already part of the middle management in the publishing company, and they had a certain power to make unilateral decisions.
The editor named Roy worked here.
Wang Jian stood in front of an office door and knocked.
"Come in," a young man's voice answered.
Wang Jian pushed open the door, and saw Roy standing up and extending his hand towards him.
"Welcome, Wang," he said while shaking hands with Wang Jian. "I think you've made your decision."
"Yes," Wang Jian replied, handing over the complete manuscript, "Here's the complete manuscript. If it's all good, we can sign the contract at any time."
"Congratulations on making a wise choice," Roy smiled. "Let's draft an agreement then. I'll finish reading it today."
"If there are no major issues, we can officially sign the publishing contract tomorrow."
"Really, there's no advance royalty at all?" Wang Jian couldn't help but ask, being really out of money.
If he paid the rent this month, he wouldn't even have enough to buy food next month.
Roy helplessly said, "Only I believe in your book; the other editors disagreed about publishing it."
"I had to use the editor's privilege to ensure your manuscript wasn't rejected. I'm afraid an advance royalty is truly impossible."
Wang Jian sighed resignedly.
Writing novels is a dead-end street after all!
Dispirited, he said goodbye to Roy and agreed to come back at nine the next morning, then he took the bus back to the Bronx.
When, he wondered, would he be able to live in Manhattan.
He mused against the bus window.
By the time Wang Jian returned to the Bronx, it was almost one in the afternoon.
Since he didn't have to go to community labor today, he found himself at a loss for what to do.
However, when he thought of the community labor, Lily, the check-in officer, suddenly popped into his mind.
Damn it, wouldn't it be painfully awkward to see her at community labor tomorrow?
She wouldn't intentionally leave him out of the check-in, would she?
Having just sorted out his book worries, Wang Jian started worrying about Lily.
Ah well, there must be a way out in front of the car.
Maybe he should go to the hospital to check on the old man and ask for advice while he was there?
No sooner said than done, Wang Jian changed back into his usual long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans and headed to the public hospital.
The old man's cancer had worsened to stage three, meaning that the cancer cells had fully metastasized.
Seeing the old man become even more lonely and frail, Wang Jian felt a surge of sorrow.
However, he dared not show it, and just kept on chatting with the old man.
When Wang Jian mentioned that his novel was being reviewed, but he would only get royalty share with no advance, the old man encouraged him, "No worries, I've seen worse get published and even earn 500 US Dollars."
"There are so many bookstores in the United States, someone's bound to mistake it as good work."
Wang Jian thought, thanks a lot.
When they talked about his incident with Lily, the check-in officer, the old man was initially stunned.
Then, he nearly died of laughter.
At that point, Wang Jian thought that it might have been better to stay home than to go out aimlessly.
After the old man gave Wang Jian several lecherous glances,
Wang Jian finally could not stand it any longer and decided to leave.
At this point, the old man leisurely said, "The check-in officer has a lot of power over those in mandatory community labor. Unless, you can afford a lawyer."
"If you offend her, beware she might miss you out intentionally, and your community labor time could be extended."
"What should I do then? It was her who initiated, she forced me," Wang Jian said helplessly.
"If you dare say that, get ready for an extension of your labor time," the old man pondered.
"If you can't help it, act like you're extremely obsessed with her, make her think you are a creep," the old man continued, "That way she might avoid you or even, to get rid of you sooner, give you an A on your labor evaluation."
"It's a win-win for you!"
Is that so?
Wang Jian looked contemplative.
Watching Wang Jian's retreating back, the old man lecherously sighed, "I really want to live to see what will happen."