1836: I Became a Literary Giant in Great Britain

Chapter 87 People may lie, but smells don't.

"How about this?" Michelle looked at the mountain of letters and a sly smile appeared on her lips.

"We are publishing a public statement in the next issue of Bentley Monthly on behalf of Dr. John Watson."

Dickens' eyes lit up, and he put down his teacup. "Oh? In Watson's name?"

"That's right."

Michelle picked up the letter with the fifty-pound check tucked inside, weighed it in her hand, and then continued.

"Take Mr. Holmes, for example. He is currently engrossed in a top-secret case concerning the reputation of a European royal family and is simply unable to spare any time for other matters. Therefore, he has to temporarily decline all new commissions from the public."

"As for those letters that included checks and cash..."

'

Bentley's keen intuition as a publisher was immediately awakened, and he quickly took over the conversation.

"Of course, we'll retreat the way we came!"

"Furthermore, not only should we return them, but we should also include an annual subscription to Bentley Monthly in every return letter."

"Tell these enthusiastic readers that although they can't get the great detective's personal help for the time being, they can still keep up with the latest developments in Mr. Holmes's cases by subscribing to our magazine!"

These readers who have the ability to pay are the best readership of Bentley Monthly.

Upon hearing this, Dickens couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Brilliant! This move not only preserved the readers' illusions but also smoothly resolved a crisis of trust, and even served as excellent publicity!"

The three of them smiled at each other. What was originally a "sweet trouble" that had driven the post office and the editorial department to the brink of collapse had instantly turned into a booster for the magazine's sales.

As for the remaining letters, Michel did not have the staff destroy them.

He specially had two large boxes made available to carefully store those bizarre and outlandish letters seeking help.

After all, who can guarantee that the country farmer searching for his missing breeding cattle, or the Manchester factory owner who suffered a series of business frauds, won't become the inspiration and material for his stories?

However, having so many letters piling up from readers is not a good thing.

It seems it's time for him to need a house of his own.

This reminded Michel of an amusing anecdote from his previous life in the literary world.

After "King of Fairy Tales" became a huge hit, he received hundreds or even thousands of letters from readers every day, and the post office set up a special mailbox for him. These letters, totaling over a million, were simply too many to fit in his home.

His family advised him to get rid of them, but Zheng Yuanjie insisted that not a single letter should be thrown away, and decided to buy a house specifically to store the letters.

He bought 10 apartments at a price of 1400 yuan per square meter, all of which he used to store mail.

Today, most of these houses have become school district properties, and their value has increased hundreds of times...

Speaking of which, it seems like it would be nice to set up a museum of reader letters someday.

Michelle's heart skipped a beat.

Coincidentally, the family business also needed a shop in London.

These two are not contradictory at all.

To be honest, a house in London is indeed a high-quality investment.

It's important to know that London's population has been growing significantly every year in recent years.

This has also fueled the continued boom in the rental market.

It's fair to say that buying a house is indeed a worthwhile investment.

However, house prices in London are not cheap.

In suitable locations in the West End, house prices start at least at one or two thousand pounds.

Michelle's finances are not yet sufficient, so she can only keep this idea to herself for now.

Michelle is enjoying her new home and relaxing time.

The apartment in Bloomsbury was quiet and bright, with sunlight streaming through the clean windows and casting warm dappled patterns on the desk in front of him.

Just then, a rapid knocking on the door interrupted his thoughts.

The postman brought in a letter, and he paid the postage and took the letter.

The handwriting on the envelope was neat and urgent; he recognized it immediately as being written by his sister, Anna.

The envelope was thick, and it seemed to contain something else.

Michelle opened the envelope, and the letter slipped out.

The contents of the letter made his relaxed expression vanish instantly, and his brows furrowed tightly.

In her letter, Anna used concise language to describe the "distant relative" named Vincent LeBlanc and his "Mississippi Western Railroad Company" investment plan.

The words are filled with the girl's worries and helplessness.

She described in detail how her father, Charlie, was blinded by this grand plan, how he argued with her mother at home, and how he insisted on investing the family's only savings...

"Dad was convinced. He felt that this was our family's only chance to restore its reputation, and no matter how much Mom and I tried to persuade him, we couldn't stop him... He said that this was Michelle's money, not his, and he wanted to prove himself in his own way—"

"Michelle, this sounds too good to be true. But that man has officer's medals, even the clergyman endorses him, and almost everyone in town believes it..."

'

Michelle's fingertips traced the lines on the letter repeatedly.

Distant relatives.

American Railroad.

High dividends.

Priority immigration.

The taste is too strong...

These words, put together, sounded like an open accusation to him, a soul two hundred years later, well-educated in anti-fraud, that I was a fraudster.

He didn't even need to verify the so-called "London office" to be 100% certain that it was a complete scam!

Is this a vicious trap specifically designed for residents of rural towns, exploiting information asymmetry and the fantasy of getting rich quick?

When Michelle saw the line, "We're relatives, and he's willing to give us a larger share of the investment," she almost laughed out of exasperation...

Strangers are easy to swindle, but relatives are easy to swindle, right?

So you're saying we should thank you for swindling money from our family?

Michelle suppressed her emotions, put the letter aside, and picked up another piece of paper tucked inside the envelope.

It was a beautifully printed flyer, made of thick paper with slightly rough edges.

The text uses flowery language to describe the richness of the North American continent and promises astonishing returns on investment with exaggerated figures.

At the very bottom is the logo of the "Mississippi Western Railway Company," a complex design that looks quite convincing...

Michelle brought the flyer to her nose and sniffed it gently.

A smell of cheap ink mixed with inferior pulp immediately filled my nostrils.

This taste seems familiar...

As a writer, he was naturally familiar with paper and printing ink.

Michelle knew this taste all too well; he finally remembered.

This smell is exactly the same as the smell emanating from those underground workshops on Fleet Street that specialize in printing cheap novels and illegal newspapers!

Good grief, here comes the first piece of evidence.

Such a big company, how could they print things in such an underground workshop?

Michelle's heart sank.

The father's stubbornness and his pitiful pride almost pushed the whole family to the brink of disaster again!

Fortunately, I've made something of myself.

His family even wrote to inquire about him.

He couldn't even imagine what would have happened if he hadn't time-traveled; he would have gone bankrupt and been scammed.

What will be the fate of this family?

And then there are the neighbors and villagers who watched him grow up, whose life savings were swindled away.

And what utter despair!

If you've messed with me, you've really messed with me.

Fortunately, according to Anna, the conman will stay in town for another month...

It was supposed to be a time for everyone to raise funds.

You want to take everything and leave nothing behind, don't you...?

He will definitely send this swindler to jail himself.

Michelle made a silent vow in her heart.

Michelle put down the flyer and stood up.

His mind raced as he calmly analyzed the situation before him.

Right now, I not only have to stop this scam, but also get irrefutable evidence that will completely convince the villagers!

Otherwise, even if he went back, the villagers who were so engrossed in their bright future might not believe him.

They might even blame themselves for interfering with their excellent investment opportunities...

Even two hundred years from now, won't those who insist on transferring money despite being dissuaded still be the same?

I'm not wrong, I won't be fooled...

All he's good for is his stubbornness...

Therefore, he absolutely needs evidence to definitively prove Vincent's innocence.

And it has to be done as soon as possible!

As for that "London office," that place either doesn't exist or it's just a temporary, rented shell.

Once the scam was exposed, the person disappeared without a trace, and no clues could be found.

Going there directly would only alert them.

Michelle's mind was racing, and he thought for a moment.

I immediately thought of a breakthrough.

The breakthrough was in the flyer in his hand.

People may lie, but smells don't!

Its materials, its ink, its printing process... these are the evidence that doesn't lie.

However, there are so many underground workshops near Fleet Street.

He needs a real expert to authenticate this promotional material.

An idea flashed through his mind and caught Michel's eye.

Michael!

The editor of the London Express, and his good friend.

The newspaper's printing press had some of the most experienced printers in all of London.

Their eyes and noses are more useful than any detective's tools!