In the 90s, you could acquire max-level skills every 14 days.

Early in the morning, at the October Magazine office, Zhang Yong parked his car and saw Liu Jianguo standing at the door waving at him.

This person's energy and spirit are completely different now; he even walks with a swagger.

"You're here? Editor-in-Chief Zhou arrived long ago." Liu Jianguo rushed over and shook hands with Zhang Yong first. "I reviewed the contract for you yesterday. The terms are fine, and it's much more complete than the last one."

"Thank you for your hard work, Brother Liu."

"Don't mention it." Liu Jianguo smiled, revealing a set of white teeth. "Editor-in-Chief Zhou is in a particularly good mood today. Yesterday afternoon, he received the reader feedback report from the All-China Federation of Trade Unions, which showed that your article 'The Ingenuity of a Great Nation' had the most reader letters."

Zhang Yong nodded and followed Liu Jianguo through the editorial department's corridor. As they passed the proofreading team's door, he glanced at them out of the corner of his eye.

Three people were sitting inside, engrossed in sketching on a stack of papers. Lin Xuechang, who was sitting by the window, had his back hunched and looked listless.

The deputy editor-in-chief, who used to be so arrogant in his own home, now doesn't even have the confidence to look people in the eye.

Zhang Yong looked away without stopping.

"Xiao Zhang is here, please have a seat."

Zhou Deqing was looking at a sample magazine while wearing his reading glasses. When he saw Zhang Yong come in, he stood up and shook hands with him. His hand was thin and strong.

"Comrade Zhang Yong, have some tea." Liu Jianguo, with keen insight, brought out a cup of jasmine tea, the enamel cup lid bearing the five red characters "Serve the People."

Then, quite tactfully, he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

There were only two people left in the room. Zhou Deqing pulled a contract from the folder on the table and pushed it over.

"Take a look at this first. The previous one is already invalid, so don't take it to heart. That was something Lin Xuechang did on his own initiative. You've seen it too; he's been dealt with now." Zhou Deqing waved his hand and said casually.

"This is a new contract. Given your prior cooperation with Workers' Publishing House, it's inconvenient for us to sign an exclusive agreement. According to regulations, the price will also be renegotiated."

Zhou Deqing pointed to the second page of the contract with his index finger.

"But there is one condition: for the 'Great Power Craftsmanship' series, any work with the theme of 'Great Power' must have its first release rights reserved for 'October'."

"Regarding the payment, it will be settled at the highest rate for front-page bestsellers, which is fifty yuan per thousand words. If the country wants to compile and publish these articles in a book in the future, we will negotiate and sign a separate contract."

Zhou Deqing paused, then raised his eyelids and glanced at Zhang Yong.

"Do you think this will work?"

Zhang Yong picked up the contract and scanned it line by line.

Fifty words per thousand.

This is already the highest price that a state-owned major publication can offer. The contract does not include buyout or exclusive clauses, and the publishing rights are negotiated separately.

In the long run, this is more cost-effective than the previous buyout price of 100 per thousand words.

"Editor-in-Chief Zhou was very agreeable, so I signed it."

Zhang Yong took out a pen from his pocket and wrote his name at the signature.

Zhou Deqing took the contract, glanced at the signature, nodded, and put it into the folder.

Then he opened the drawer, took out two brown paper envelopes, and placed them on the table.

The envelope was stamped with the magazine's official red seal; it was thick and sturdy.

"This is the payment for the first two articles: 'The Ingenuity of a Great Nation' (42,000 words) and 'The Nation on Wheels' (44,000 words), totaling 85,000 words. It was settled at 50 yuan per thousand words. After the finance department deducted the taxes, it was 3,600 yuan."

Zhou Deqing pushed the envelope forward.

"Please click."

Zhang Yong picked up the envelope; it felt heavy in his hand.

When you open it up, it's filled with brand-new ten-yuan notes, neatly bundled together, carrying the unique astringent smell of ink and new banknotes.

Three thousand six hundred yuan.

Zhang Yong counted out the huge sum of money, put it back in the envelope, and tucked it into his inner pocket.

"The numbers are correct, thank you, Editor-in-Chief Zhou."

Zhou Deqing nodded, picked up the layout sample of "The Kingdom on Wheels" from the table, flipped through it, and then closed it again.

"Xiao Zhang, let me tell you something from the bottom of my heart."

"The Great Craftsmanship" is about inheritance, with master craftsmen passing on their skills to the younger generation. "The Nation on Wheels" is about not giving up, with a group of people dismantling foreign cars to build their own, which is about courage and determination.

Zhou Deqing put the manuscript back on the table and tapped the cover twice with his fingers.

"After those two articles were published, I received not only letters from readers, but also calls from government departments asking who I was."

Zhang Yong didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.

"Of course, if you disagree, I won't reveal the author's information." Zhou Deqing waved his hand. "Just tell them that he's a contributing writer for our magazine, and that we can't disclose the specifics. But you need to understand that what you're writing is more than just literature."

Zhang Yong nodded; he certainly knew.

Writing about engine technology and independent car manufacturing—in the context of the 90s, it was only a matter of time before these topics gained attention.

"Also, I'd like to ask something," Zhou Deqing leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his abdomen. "Where are you planning to start your third step?"

Zhang Yong smiled slightly.

That's exactly what he was waiting for.

"Editor-in-Chief Zhou, whether a wheel turns fast or not ultimately depends on the power source."

Zhang Yong pointed out the window. The sky outside was hazy and gray, and in the distance, he could see several chimneys belching black smoke. Those were the coal-burning boilers of a factory in the eastern suburbs.

"For the third book, I plan to write about energy."

Zhou Deqing's eyebrows twitched.

"It begins with the improvement of an old-fashioned boiler in a county coal mine. Our boiler had low thermal efficiency, incomplete combustion, and produced a lot of smoke."

"If a boiler is upgraded, it can save tens of tons of coal a year. If a mining area is upgraded, it can save tens of thousands of tons a year. If these saved coals are converted into electricity, with sufficient power and heat, there are many more things that can be done."

Zhou Deqing brought the teacup to his lips, took a sip, and nodded.

"This cut is good." He put down his cup, a hint of approval in his eyes.

"I'll also go to the coal mine's boilers to take a look," Zhang Yong chimed in. "It'll follow the same approach as the previous two books. I'll write about a technician at a county-level coal mine who, under difficult conditions, transformed an old boiler into a high-efficiency, energy-saving one, and then look ahead to other applications after the energy efficiency improvements."

Zhou Deqing stood up, walked around to the table, and patted Zhang Yong on the shoulder.

"That's a good idea. The two drafts you gave me will be written in batches, so you can focus on writing them at your own pace. We need both quantity and quality."

"it is good."

Zhou Deqing turned around, rummaged through the bookshelf, pulled out a huge brown paper bag, and handed it over.

"These are letters from readers that the editorial department has recently compiled. Several of them were written by grassroots workers in coal mines and power plants. Take a look and see if they are helpful; they might come in handy."

"Thank you, Editor-in-Chief Zhou."

Zhou Deqing waved his hand, sat back down in his chair, and picked up his teacup.

"Don't thank me. Your writing something good is the greatest contribution you can make to 'October'."

"Go ahead." Zhou Deqing put on his reading glasses and reopened the sample copy. "Send the manuscript directly by registered mail once it's finished. I'll have Liu Jianguo keep an eye on receiving it."

Zhang Yong pushed open the office door and saw Liu Jianguo leaning against the corridor wall waiting for him.

"How is it? Are you satisfied?"

"I'm satisfied. Also, Brother Liu, I'll need your help again later. I'll send the manuscript over; please keep an eye on the receiving, sending, and initial review processes."

"Don't worry, leave this to me," Liu Jianguo said, patting his chest.

……

At the entrance of Jinsong Residential Area.

Just as Zhang Yonggang parked his motorcycle in the shed, the window of the guardhouse was pushed open.

Grandpa Chen poked half his head out, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

"Zhang Yong! Phone call! It's from Tongxian County, a factory manager surnamed Meng, asking you to return the call!"

Zhang Yong took the slip of paper and glanced at the number on it—it was exactly the same as the one written in the notebook.

He nodded to Grandpa Chen.

"Sir, I'll go back now."

……