It didn't think it was a big deal.
The foreign newspapers thought differently, however. After all, for so many years, they had always felt superior everywhere in China. Even when they made mistakes, no one dared to contradict them.
Besides, this wasn't just a contradiction.
It was practically pointing right at their noses, cursing them from head to toe—acerbic, malicious, slanderous, and provocative... What was even more infuriating was that Assistant Lin had thoughtfully grasped Su Ning's intentions, sparing no expense to translate it into various languages.
And then—
Distributed for free.
Take note, the key point here was free!
Just imagine walking down the street and someone smilingly and kindly hands you a newspaper. It is clearly printed, uses high-quality paper, and doesn't cost you a dime.
Most people would take it and casually glance at it, wouldn't they?
Well then, Su Ning's goal was achieved.
......
The Concession.
At ten in the morning, Miguel stepped out with sleepy eyes, even though his work hours started at eight-thirty.
But that rule was only to constrain the yellow-skinned fellows in the newspaper office.
It didn't apply to him.
Having been sent to this barbaric and backward country, Miguel already had plenty of complaints. More holidays and a lenient attendance system were rights he naturally deserved.
For example, right now, he wasn't in a hurry to go to the office. Instead, he was heading to the cafe across the street to buy a cup of coffee and wake himself up. At that moment, a hand reached out.
"What?"
It looked like a newspaper, and in Portuguese no less. Perhaps another native-language newspaper had opened.
"Is this for me?"
The person smiled and pointed to the sign on their chest, which had a huge word on it: Free.
"Alright."
Miguel shrugged and accepted it. It seemed this new competitor was well-funded, probably a branch of a major domestic newspaper back home. Maybe he could try jumping ship?
He sat down with a coffee and a portion of ham.
The weather was nice.
It reminded him of the eternally brilliant sunshine of the Iberian Peninsula. He took a sip of coffee and leisurely unfolded the newspaper. The best-selling news these past few days was about how the ridiculous Chinese government, for the sake of saving face, had instructed a wealthy Chinese woman to claim they had discovered an oil field.
It was shockingly ridiculous.
However, this also sparked an explosion of inspiration for Miguel. Through reasonable imagination, he had written a humorous yet touching article.
As expected, sales were very good.
Even the head office back in his home country wanted to reprint it. It should have been published by now, right?
He hoped to get a bonus at the end of the year. Perhaps headquarters would finally see his talent and transfer him back home.
Thinking of this, Miguel smiled.
He happily shifted his gaze to the newspaper... A qualified newsman should also have a report on this matter, and a comparison would show its true quality.
With one glance, he thought he had read it wrong.
A second glance.
!!!???
In the quiet and elegant cafe, a loud Portuguese curse suddenly erupted. Customers and waiters all looked over.
Miguel, who was usually so particular about his demeanor, now had a red face and a thick neck. The newspaper was crumpled in his grip. He was trembling with anger, cursing one sentence after another.
People started whispering.
A waiter stepped forward and quietly reminded him not to disturb the others.
Miguel seemed not to hear. The waiter frowned and was about to repeat himself, when he heard Miguel muttering something that became increasingly clear.
It sounded like... a person's name?
"Su Ning."
Based on his lip movements, the waiter softly read it out. The name was both familiar and unfamiliar, as if he had heard it somewhere before.
At this time, a customer who was also holding the newspaper suddenly realized something. He stood up excitedly, looked down to compare, and said, "You're so angry... could it be that you are Miguel?"
Halfway through his sentence, he couldn't help but burst into loud laughter.
For no other reason than it was simply too funny.
Miguel was the main target in this issue. He was humiliated in various ways by those highly-paid writers, accompanied by a comical little caricature.
Miguel did not answer.
Instead, he left the cafe with a livid face.
"Hey, brother, quickly tell me what happened?"
"Does it have to do with that newspaper? What a pity, someone tried to hand one to me just now, but I was in a rush to get my coffee so I didn't take it."
"Soo-ning, is this a person's name?"
That customer clearly enjoyed being the center of attention. There were too many questions to answer, so he simply read the newspaper out loud quickly.
For a while, laughter rose and fell in the cafe.
After a long time.
Someone finally focused on the main point: "So, this Chinese Ms. Su successfully discovered an oil field... I have to say, it's hard not to be suspicious. Everyone knows there are no oil fields in China. Miguel didn't do anything wrong."
"Exactly, how could China have an oil field."
"This Su from China is going a bit too far. She did something wrong but is blaming Miguel for exposing it. This is not right."
"I actually know her." An insider shared the relationship between Su Ning and Swire Shipping, adding his own thoughts, "...Everyone who has met her says she is a cold and ruthless person, lacking the natural softness and kindness of a woman."
Immediately, someone began to pity Antonio.
"Oh, God bless, a beautiful marriage will change her."
"God bless."
Next, they had a topic of conversation and started discussing the possibility of China having an oil field—they unanimously agreed it was basically zero.
And poor Miguel.
Some couldn't help but laugh.
Most of the Chinese people in the cafe listened to these outsiders recklessly denying the possibility of China having oil on Chinese soil. Some were angry, some felt sorrowful, and others lowered their heads, feeling a sense of inferiority.
No one noticed that Su Ning's name was appearing extremely frequently.
And sounding more and more familiar on their tongues.
......
The sky was falling.
Miguel returned to the newspaper office, greeted by strange looks all the way. He felt the world spinning and fiercely etched the Chinese name Su Ning into his heart.
"I know what you're going to say."
The editor-in-chief put down his pen and told him the bad news: the entire Concession—no, every foreigner in the country—had received that newspaper.
In other words, Miguel had become famous overnight!
"What?"
"This Ms. Su is obviously very wealthy. She holds a grudge against you and the other reporters who exposed the truth... However, every cloud has a silver lining. This is actually a good thing."
"A good thing that gets me laughed at?"
"No." The editor-in-chief stood up and affectionately patted Miguel on the shoulder. "Controversy brings heat and attention. You know many people back home are also paying attention to the Chinese oil field issue, right? If it were just pure mockery, soon no one would bother taking a second look."
"But now, a stupid, wealthy, and vicious Chinese female tycoon has appeared. The public will hate her, but at the same time, it will pique their interest."
"And you, Miguel, are her complete opposite."
The editor-in-chief said, not without a hint of jealousy:
"You will win the love of the public, Miguel. You know how important that is."
Of course he knew.
Miguel was practically boiling over with excitement. He opened his mouth to say something, but the editor-in-chief's phone suddenly rang. After the person on the other end said a few words, the editor's tone instantly became thrilled.
The call ended.
"Good Lord, Su Ning, yes, that's the name. She is truly too vindictive and far too rich. You can't imagine what she has done."
The editor-in-chief looked at Miguel:
"Back home, someone is also distributing this newspaper for free. Right now, you are being mocked by thousands of people, but this also means we can skip a lot of steps. Under the headquarters' operation, you will become the new generation's sensation!"
"It's absolutely wonderful, isn't it?"
The editor-in-chief said as he opened a cherished bottle of red wine, handing a glass to Miguel.
"Exactly."
Even before the wine hit his stomach, Miguel felt as though he was already drunk, dizzy with happiness. This was a stroke of luck he had never even dreamed of... Of course, he wouldn't thank Soo-ning. In fact, she had become the Chinese person Miguel despised the most.
It was a pity that he didn't even have a name in the original story.
The pitiful reward he contributed could only be lumped together with others just to earn a passing glance from Soo-ning.
The line graph that had been crawling at a snail's pace finally spiked sharply.
Soo-ning was very satisfied.
"It really feels great to unlock a new map; I can easily earn a massive wave of rewards." This was just the appetizer; the main course was yet to come.
Thinking about it made her a little excited.
"Yes, yes, yes."
The system responded perfunctorily, focusing the vast majority of its computing power on fighting its own battles, completely missing Soo-ning's thoughtful expression, as if she had noticed something amiss.
...
Days went by.
Every day, there were new "victims," and curses directed at Soo-ning frequently erupted in various languages. Miguel was laughed at wherever he went, and his relatives back home even spent a fortune sending overseas telegrams to ask what had happened to him.
He endured all of this, one by one.
Waiting for the moment the tables would turn.
Then, he waited until major Chinese newspapers published photos of oil exploration and crude oil.
He continued to wait.
He waited until the fierce competition among the exploration experts finally yielded a winner, and the spirited news broke that they had chartered a train and set off for Yumen.
Things began to develop in an increasingly unfavorable direction.
More irrefutable photographic evidence.
Fearless crude oil exhibitions, paper after paper published by experts based on the Yumen oil field...
On this day, Miguel arrived at the newspaper office in a daze. He walked familiarly toward the editor-in-chief's office, only to be stopped by the secretary. The secretary, who was also Portuguese, looked at him with sympathy:
"I'm sorry, the editor-in-chief says he doesn't want to see you."
"Why?"
Miguel shouted, losing control.
The secretary said nothing, but it seemed as if everything had already been made perfectly clear.
Meanwhile.
Madame Kung could no longer sit still. Although she had Soo-ning's guarantee, faced with such monstrous profits, and considering Soo-ning's reputation... well, it wasn't exactly stellar.
She put aside her pride and decided to make a trip to Peiping.
The news spread.
The elites of Nanking, both big and small, breathed a sigh of relief. Regardless of their political stances, they all set aside their prejudices for the moment, unanimously hoping that Madame Kung would succeed in persuading Soo-ning to come to Nanking.
Before her departure.
Wu Yi secretly met with Madame Kung.
