Every industry has its thresholds.
After leaving Ming Pao, Lin Baicheng went to other small and medium-sized newspapers to look for opportunities.
However, the situation was even worse than at Ming Pao. At least at Ming Pao, he had met an editor; at many other newspapers, he hadn't even met anyone.
Nowadays, Hong Kong had about fifty or sixty newspapers, with many small- and medium-sized papers willing to serialize novels, especially martial arts novels.
However, when the staff found out the novel was written by Lin Baicheng—a young man who hadn't even attended university—they shook their heads and rejected him outright. They were not willing to take the risk of serializing a child's work, clearly not believing that someone so young could produce a good novel.
Even if Lin Baicheng asked them to just skim through the novel, most said they didn't have time or that exceptions couldn't be made.
Only two editors glanced at the beginning of his novel. After seeing that Lin Baicheng's writing skills were not very strong, they asked him to leave a copy of the manuscript and his contact information, saying they would review it seriously if the newspaper decided to serialize it in the future.
Faced with this, Lin Baicheng had no choice but to leave disappointed. Clearly, they did not take his novel seriously, and leaving the manuscript had little meaning. Most importantly, with only one copy of his manuscript, he couldn't leave it without a clear response.
After running around for two days, visiting over ten small- and medium-sized newspapers, Lin Baicheng had hardly met any editors who were interested in his work.
Under these circumstances, he could only continue writing his novel while contacting newspapers via the phone numbers left by the offices, instead of running around all day.
Lin Baicheng was determined to finish the novel, but if he still couldn't find a newspaper to serialize it after completion, he would have to regretfully abandon this method of earning his first pot of gold and look for another opportunity.
The first pot of gold was necessary, but Lin Baicheng wasn't going to pin all his hopes on a single method. A living person shouldn't let themselves be trapped by one approach.
In the worst-case scenario, Lin Baicheng figured he could spend a year or two working part-time, save up about 10,000 HKD, and ask his family for a little more, which would still give him his first pot of gold.
However, this method was time-consuming and inefficient for someone like Lin Baicheng, who believed the era was full of golden opportunities.
The earlier he earned his first pot of gold, and the more it was, the faster he could accumulate capital to achieve greater things.
When his family learned that Lin Baicheng's attempts to get his novel serialized were not going smoothly, they were unsurprised. Though, they didn't forbid him from pursuing it but let him go ahead.
From his parents' perspective, after a couple of weeks or a month, Lin Baicheng would naturally face enough setbacks to give up on the unrealistic idea of writing novels. By then, they could arrange other tasks for him.
…
A week passed in the blink of an eye.
In the past few days, a few small newspapers were willing to meet Lin Baicheng and review his novel, knowing who he was.
These were small newspapers, and they only agreed to review his work in the hope of striking luck. After all, a bestselling novel could significantly boost a newspaper's circulation, especially for smaller papers.
Unfortunately, none of these newspapers liked Lin Baicheng's novel at first glance. They all thought it was acceptable, and asked him to leave a copy, but he couldn't leave it without a proper response.
Fortunately, two newspapers seemed genuinely interested. Knowing that Lin Baicheng was writing daily and planned to complete the novel, they suggested he finish the manuscript first and then return. They would then carefully review the entire work to decide whether to serialize it.
In other words, they gave him a narrow path forward—a small hope that his novel could eventually appear in print.
Even so, Lin Baicheng continued contacting small newspapers daily; the earlier the novel was serialized, the better.
That day, Lin Baicheng had an appointment to meet the editor of Star Daily.
Star Daily was also a small newspaper. What puzzled Lin Baicheng was that during the phone call, the editor had said they were willing to serialize his novel as long as it wasn't too bad, but that some details needed to be discussed in person.
Lin Baicheng was puzzled why they seemed so willing to serialize his novel—it seemed unrealistic, otherwise he wouldn't have waited over a week without seeing his work published.
Putting aside his doubts, he decided to see them in person.
Around 2:30 PM, Lin Baicheng arrived at Star Daily.
Star Daily was the smallest newspaper he had visited recently, with only five employees, a single office, and a small private office for the chief editor.
The chief editor of Star Daily, Hu Zhiwen, was a man in his forties, wearing glasses and appearing scholarly.
Hu Zhiwen received Lin Baicheng in his office.
"Mr. Lin, you've brought your novel, right?"
After some polite conversation, Hu Zhiwen got straight to the point.
"I've brought it," Lin Baicheng replied, patting his shoulder bag but not taking the novel out. "Editor Hu, when we spoke on the phone this morning, you said you were willing to serialize my novel without even seeing it, as long as it wasn't too bad. Why is that?"
"Let me start from the beginning, Mr. Lin. It might take a while, I hope you don't mind," Hu Zhiwen said.
Lin Baicheng's question did not surprise him; he intended to explain everything anyway.
"This Star Daily is actually my paper. I'm both the owner and the chief editor."
"Hong Kong isn't large, but the population is significant, so there are many newspapers—at least fifty or sixty. Aside from a few large papers, there are many small papers like Star Daily. Competition is fierce, and survival is difficult."
"Star Daily has only been around for two years. As of last September, the daily circulation was about 5,000 copies. While we didn't earn much, there was some income."
"However, after September, we couldn't compete with other papers. By December, daily circulation fell below 3,000 copies. In this situation, the paper was losing money because fewer copies meant less advertising revenue, which is crucial."
"So, the daily circulation couldn't drop below 3,000, or ad revenue would decline further, and losses would grow. To maintain circulation, I had to lower the price per paper to keep sales steady."
"But doing so meant the paper was operating at a loss. Unless we could increase circulation, we'd lose money every day."