I bought a prison in the United States.

Lin Ge picked up his teacup and used the rim to hide the expression on his face.

He had guessed before he arrived that Underwood wouldn't just be chatting idly.

This newspaper tycoon never did anything without a purpose, just as he learned from his father: to keep information in his own hands.

His offer to promote Ringo's prison must have a reason behind it.

"Mr. Underwood, I appreciate your help, but I'd like to ask a question first."

"Speaking."

Why did you offer me help?

Underwood looked at Ringo with the expression of someone who had asked the right question.

"For newspapers, the most important thing is fresh stories; only stories that people find interesting can be called news."

Underwood stood up, walked to his desk, pulled a sheet of paper from a pile of documents, and handed it to Ringo.

That was a circulation statistic from the Tulsa World.

In the third quarter of this year, newspaper circulation in downtown Tulsa fell by nearly 10% year-on-year.

Meanwhile, its Oklahoma City rival, The Oklahoma City Herald, saw its circulation increase by about 15% during the same period.

"Recently, the newspaper has been losing readers, especially young readers."

"They think the Tulsa World is something only older people read, and that it's all about oil prices and agricultural subsidies."

"Our newsroom needs new topics, the kind that would make people under thirty willing to pay for the newspaper."

Lin Ge put the printed paper back on the coffee table.

Do you think a privately owned prison could attract young readers?

Underwood laughed heartily:

"A privately run prison operated by Chinese people who have secured contracts with several companies using prisoners—even an old man like me would find that interesting."

"Because there is conflict here, with outside minority groups confronting the local power structure."

"Then there was innovation, using a points system to replace the traditional violent management by prison guards."

"But the most important thing is the suspense at the end, to see if Judge Hammond's audit report will ruin everything."

He lowered his hand, a meaningful smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"Mr. Chen, if I put this story on the front page of the Sunday edition, the newspaper's sales on Monday would increase by at least half."

"College students drinking coffee at the University of Tulsa, and young couples who have just moved to the suburbs and bought a house, will want to see this story."

Lin Ge leaned back on the sofa, letting his body sink into the rather hard cushion.

One sentence in Underwood's words particularly bothered him.

Are immigrant minorities confronting the local power structure?

This is clearly a carefully crafted narrative framework.

It packaged the conflict of interest between Ringo and Hammond as a confrontational relationship that could resonate with the public.

In other words, Underwood was not only helping him, but also using him.

This report is just as beneficial to the Tulsa World as it is to Ringo.

This is what business is all about.

No need for gratitude, just an equal exchange.

"Mr. Underwood, I have one condition."

"you say."

"I hope the reports will not mention Judge Hammond's name, and that my audit issues will not be portrayed as any form of confrontation."

"We only write about the prison itself, letting the readers draw their own conclusion that it is a well-managed prison."

"Oh, why?" Underwood asked curiously.

Ringo replied:

"Because if it's written as a confrontation, the story becomes a sensationalist tale."

"A sensational story can only sell for one issue, but a good story can keep readers engaged and make them look forward to what's to come."

A hint of approval flashed in Underwood's eyes.

That expression was fleeting, so fleeting that someone without special abilities couldn't even catch it.

"very good."

Underwood stood up, took a business card from the business card holder on his desk, and picked up a pen.

He wrote a few lines on the back of the business card and then handed it over.

The business card contained a name and a phone number.

[Gloria Winters, Special Correspondent for the Tulsa World, Tel: 918-***]

On the back is a sentence handwritten by Underwood:

[Gloria – This is the director of the McLean County Correctional Center; her jail deserves a good story and should be taken seriously.]

"Gloria is our newspaper's best feature reporter."

"Last year, she wrote a series of reports on the transformation of Tulsa's old industrial area, which won the Journalists Association's annual Feature Article Award."

"She will contact you before this Friday to schedule an interview."

Thank you.

Just as Lin Ge put the business card into his suit pocket, there was a knock on the door of the reception room.

"Knock knock, knock".

The rhythm of the knocking was peculiar, as if it were a pre-arranged code.

Underwood's expression suggested he already knew who was outside the door.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open, and a brown-haired man in his early thirties stepped in.

He was wearing a dark blue jacket with a red and white racing flag embroidered on his left breast pocket.

"Dad, Mary downstairs said you have an important guest this morning and asked me not to come up and disturb you."

"But you've been talking to the customer for almost an hour, so I wanted to see who could keep you talking for so long."

The newcomer's gaze quickly fell on Lin Ge. He first politely glanced at the name tag on his chest, and then extended his hand.

"Hello, I'm Brad."

"Lingo Chen".

The two people held hands.

Brad looked energetic, as if he had just come back from the gym, and said in a clear voice:

"Mr. Chen, I heard from my secretary that you're not in the prison business, are you?"

Ringo responded with a smile:

"To be precise, I run a private prison."

Brad gave a knowing smile.

"I've met my dad and many people in my life, but this is the first time I've ever met a prison boss."

"Brad, don't underestimate him."

Underwood sat behind his desk, reminding his son.

"Mr. Chen is more than just a prison boss."

"He just gave me an industry analysis report on the private prison industry, and the data in it is more detailed than the state corrections department's annual report."

"Moreover, his prison factory has already secured orders from General Motors and General Electric."

Brad raised an eyebrow, a gesture he made just like his father.

"General Electric? The McLean County Correctional Center that proposed the thin-plate tapping solution at the Chamber of Commerce, is that you?"

"Have you heard of it?"

"Of course I've heard of it."

"That purchasing manager at GE, Morrison, was my classmate when I was doing my MBA at the University of Tulsa's business school."

"We were having drinks at a bar the other day, and he told me that his company spent $60,000 to buy a technology solution from a prison owner."