I asked you to write a light novel, but you wrote about living?

The next morning.

Central City Observer Editorial Office

The middle-aged man sitting behind his large desk looked at the leave application that had just been submitted on the terminal, his gaze lingering for a moment on the four words in the "reason" column.

[An agreement.]

He didn't ask what the agreement was, skipped the tedious personnel procedures, and directly drew the highest-level approval on the screen.

"You should have gone long ago."

The editor-in-chief looked up at Tang Wan, who was standing opposite him, his tone revealing a sense of relief and comfort.

"I didn't fill in the end date of the holiday, so there's no need to rush back. Follow your heart and play for as long as you want. The newspaper won't fall apart without you."

Tang Wan lowered her eyes slightly and replied softly, "Thank you, Editor-in-Chief."

After explaining her leave request, she did not immediately turn and leave.

"Is there anything else?" The editor-in-chief noticed her hesitation.

Tang Wan raised her head, her expression regaining its usual competence.

"It's about Yu Huashi."

Upon hearing this name, the editor-in-chief's expression became more serious.

As an authoritative official media outlet, Zhongcheng Observer has never lacked exposure and traffic.

Public channels, terminal homepages, city information walls—as long as the platform is willing, an article can easily garner tens of millions of views.

However, that traffic mostly comes from forced allocation by the system.

Regardless of whether users are interested or like it, it will be pushed to the terminal's homepage and shown to them.

This is what the industry calls "forced traffic".

The data looks impressive.

If the recommendation stops, the readers will disperse, and very few people will really care.

What's truly remarkable is that readers are willing to actively search for and read the content, and after reading it, they are also willing to share it with people around them.

That's normal and effective organic traffic.

Last time, Tang Wan defied public opinion and put Yu Huashi's "The Little Prince" on the front page.

That time, they truly experienced what terrifying natural flow meant.

Countless readers spontaneously flocked to the "Midtown Observer" section, not only setting a new record for readership in recent years, but also significantly boosting the platform's reputation and activity.

Even now, people continue to access the Midtown Observer page through private sharing and active searches.

Those readers weren't sent by the platform.

It was brought about by The Little Prince himself.

"I read his new short story, 'Take Her Eyes,' last night."

Tang Wan looked at the editor-in-chief and said with certainty:

"Yu Huashi's articles are very suitable for our platform."

She paused, then shook her head.

"No."

"It should be said that the current 'Midtown Observer' desperately needs articles like this."

Whether it's "The Little Prince" or "Take Her Eyes," Yu Huashi's writing contains something extremely rare in this era.

His story doesn't rely on algorithms to create excitement, nor does it rely on deliberately constructed emotions.

But the reader is willing to stop.

I'm willing to read the article from beginning to end.

After reading it, I can't help but share it with someone else.

This is precisely what Midtown Observer lacks most today.

"I suggest that the newspaper formally invite Yu Huashi to contribute an article."

Tang Wan directly stated her thoughts.

"If the collaboration goes smoothly, we can continue to discuss long-term commissioned articles, or even start a column for him."

The editor-in-chief listened quietly to her finish speaking. He did not show the urgency that Tang Wan had expected in response to the suggestion; instead, he appeared quite composed.

"The suggestion is good, but there's no rush."

He smiled and looked at Tang Wan gently: "We'll talk about it when you come back from your vacation."

Tang Wan was somewhat puzzled.

Speed ​​is of the essence in war. Yu Huashi's fame is currently soaring on the StarNet. Countless major platforms are eyeing this lucrative opportunity, and there are no shortage of platforms eager to cooperate with him.

While official media outlets have a strong foundation, delaying is never a good strategy when it comes to recruiting talent.

"You don't need to wait for me to come back."

Tang Wan smiled and shook her head, assuming the editor-in-chief was worried about who would take over the work.

"The editorial department is very familiar with the specific process of inviting articles. For authors like this, the newspaper can send anyone to contact them. There is no need to put them on my schedule."

The editor-in-chief stopped what he was doing and shook his head as well.

"I know anyone can go and we can talk."

He looked at his subordinate, who had practically turned himself into a work machine over the past three years, and his tone gradually softened:

"But Yu Huashi was someone you discovered under pressure."

"Therefore, I would prefer that you take charge of this matter personally."

Tang Wan's smile froze slightly, and then she fell into a long silence.

In a workplace where seniority is paramount and performance is the norm, establishing a long-term collaboration with a phenomenal author like Yu Huashi is undoubtedly a remarkable achievement worthy of being added to one's resume.

Yu Huashi is no longer a fledgling author.

The editor-in-chief's decision to wait until she returns to handle the matter does not mean he doesn't value it.

He was giving her this opportunity.

"Go and have a good vacation."

The editor-in-chief leaned back in his chair and waved his hand: "Take your promise with you. As for work, that's something you'll need to worry about when you get back."

Tang Wan took a deep breath, her eyes slightly warm.

She didn't refuse again, but said earnestly:

"I see."

"Wait for me to come back."