Chapter 141: A Plan for the Future of the Press
"Jin Yong?" Yang Wendong looked closely. The man in the distance did resemble the older version of Jin Yong in his memories. He turned to the man beside him and asked, "Mr. Li, do you enjoy reading Jin Yong's novels?"
"Wouldn't say I'm a big fan," Li Ka-shing replied after a pause. "But I do read them when I have some downtime. They're not bad. What about you, Mr. Yang?"
"I'm the same," Yang said with a smile.
In this era, entertainment options were still limited—especially for someone from the future like Yang. The programming on Rediffusion Television was sparse, mostly imported from the West, and entirely in English.
Novels were one of the few forms of entertainment he found palatable, and Jin Yong's writing was excellent. Even though he already knew the plots, he still read with interest.
Li Ka-shing nodded. "The stories were good… until that scene with Xiaolongnü. That one really ruined the mood."
Yang smiled. "Writers, especially literary giants, often like to go against the grain—maybe it's their way of differentiating themselves from ordinary folks."
"Maybe so." Li chuckled. "Still, he's just a novelist. Normally he wouldn't be invited to an event like this. But because he started a newspaper, he earned a spot.
It's a small paper, but paired with his name recognition among the general public, it might amount to something in the future."
"Hmm, I'd say the folks at Liao Chong Hing Bank do have some vision," Yang remarked.
Once Jin Yong's stories made it to TV, his popularity would explode a hundredfold.
Li continued, introducing a few more people before excusing himself.
"Thank you, Mr. Li," Yang said politely.
"No trouble at all," Li replied. "Happy to help."
Yang understood that someone like Li Ka-shing likely made it a point to befriend those with either current influence or high potential.
It was common sense—successful people tend to cast wide nets. Even if the connections were shallow, having enough of them ensured that when the time came, you weren't starting from scratch.
After Li left, Yang glanced around. By now, he was something of a celebrity within the banquet hall. Those he had met earlier had spread the word about his identity.
Soon, more people approached him to make connections. Yang handled each one courteously.
Eventually, he stepped out onto the terrace.
"Mr. Yang," someone greeted him—a gentleman he had been introduced to earlier.
"Mr. Qin, hello," Yang replied politely. After a few words of small talk, the conversation fizzled out.
But then, he spotted Jin Yong stepping outside too.
Seizing the opportunity, Yang took a few steps forward and greeted him. "Mr. Cha, good evening."
Jin Yong looked at the young man before him with a curious gaze but replied politely, "Good evening. And you are?"
"I'm Yang Wendong, chairman of Changxing Industrial. Mr. Cha, our company has worked with Ming Pao before."
"Yang Wendong… Wait—are you the Post-it King?" Jin Yong's expression changed noticeably.
"That's me." Yang smiled. That nickname had spread across all of Hong Kong and Kowloon. Anyone who could read—or knew someone who could—likely knew of him by now.
Jin Yong gave him a thumbs-up. "A young hero indeed. To achieve so much at such a young age—impressive."
"I had no choice," Yang chuckled. "Like Yang Guo in your novels—when people try to trample you, you either learn stronger martial arts or perish. I had to fight for survival."
"Hahaha…" Jin Yong laughed. "You're the first person I've met who compares himself to Yang Guo. Most people I know idolize Guo Jing—and they even dislike Yang Guo."
"I quite like him. Guess it's personal taste."
Yang then added, "Since I've run into you tonight, I'd like to propose a business collaboration with Ming Pao."
That was his true purpose. While Jin Yong would be enormously famous in the future, right now, even with a few fans, he didn't have the reach Yang did—not after the media had crowned him Hong Kong's latest business sensation.
Most businessmen wouldn't even bother networking with a "literary type" like Jin Yong.
Intrigued, Jin Yong asked, "What sort of collaboration? More advertising in Ming Pao?"
"That's one part of it," Yang said. "I want to secure regular ad placements in prime spots—cover pages or near your serialized novels."
Jin Yong nodded. "That can be arranged. If your company is a regular advertiser, I'll even give you a discount. It's a win-win for us both."
"Great," Yang smiled, then continued, "The second thing is—I'd like to invest in Ming Pao."
"Invest?" Jin Yong was taken aback, then shook his head. "Apologies, Mr. Yang. While Ming Pao's financial situation isn't perfect, we're not currently looking for investors."
Yang replied, "True, a newspaper doesn't need much capital. But with more funding, you could grow faster.
Mr. Cha, there are tons of newspapers in Hong Kong. Even with your novels, it's not easy to stand out. If that weren't the case, then Hong Kong Commercial Daily and Evening News, where you used to write, would've become the top newspapers long ago, right?"
Indeed, Ming Pao wasn't Jin Yong's first publishing platform. The other papers he'd written for were well-established and had sizable readerships, but they hadn't exploded in popularity because of his stories.
Jin Yong smiled. "I could say the same to you, Mr. Yang. Even with my novels, those papers didn't see explosive growth. So even if you invest in Ming Pao, it may not change much."
"Fair point," Yang nodded. "So, no chance?"
Jin Yong thought for a moment. "Not at this time. But if circumstances change, we can revisit the conversation later."
"Understood." Yang knew that such vague promises were merely polite refusals—more about saving face than actually committing.
In business, no one made absolute promises. A firm commitment too early could turn into a liability later.
Jin Yong asked, "Why do you want to invest in Ming Pao?"
Yang smiled. "Because I believe in your potential, Mr. Cha. I think Ming Pao will grow under your leadership."
Jin Yong followed up, "But it can't be for financial gain, right? A paper's profits aren't worth your time."
"You're right," Yang nodded.
Even in future years, when TVB was founded, its earnings would pale in comparison to the money from Post-its or real estate. From a business standpoint, media wasn't particularly attractive.
But media had something else—influence. In his previous life, he'd seen just how far propaganda and misinformation could go. Even the Statue of Liberty had been reimagined in dystopian tentacle art.
Jin Yong smiled. "Then I'll be candid. Even if you invest, you won't have any say in Ming Pao's operations. Just want to make that clear now to avoid misunderstandings later.
Of course, if you're still interested and promise not to interfere, we might consider it someday."
"Got it. I understand," Yang said.
Historically, Jin Yong always maintained full control of Ming Pao—even after bringing in new investors.
In that case, investing made little sense for Yang. Competing for control later would be pointless. And without Jin Yong, Ming Pao was just another newspaper.
Jin Yong added, "Honestly, with your wealth, you could easily start your own paper. You'd only need a few hundred thousand. I started Ming Pao with just ten thousand."
"Starting a paper is easy. Making it successful? That's the hard part," Yang smiled.
"There are already too many papers in Hong Kong. Competition is fierce. You can't break in just by throwing money around.
Ming Pao only survived because your novels were captivating. Without that, success wouldn't have come so easily."
All the tycoons knew media had power. But knowing it and running a successful paper were two different things.
There was no shortcut—only high investment, talented staff, and the ability to hit hot topics consistently. That was how you built a loyal reader base.
Sure, he could acquire an existing paper—but major ones weren't for sale.
Jin Yong nodded. "True. Running a newspaper isn't easy. Even now, Ming Pao survives mainly because of the novels.
When we skip a chapter, sales drop. Advertisers disappear too. Stories and novelty are great, but the real backbone of a paper is the speed and quality of its news."
"Absolutely," Yang agreed.
Jin Yong added, "Still, money is important. If you invest wisely, and the strategy is right, it's possible to build a successful paper. Just don't expect to reach the top few easily."
"No doubt," Yang nodded.
Jin Yong smiled. "If you ever start a newspaper, I'll definitely help you advertise it in Ming Pao."
"Thanks," Yang smiled. "We're not at the peak yet—there's no need for rivalry just yet."
Jin Yong glanced toward the banquet hall. "Mr. Yang, it looks like the event is about to begin. Shall we head back in?"
"Of course. Let's go. We can talk more later—especially about your novels. I really liked Guo Jing's quote, 'A true hero serves the country and the people.'"
"Haha, good taste," Jin Yong said with a sigh. "That line was inspired by the real-life heroes who resisted the Japanese invasion. Every one of them was a Guo Jing in my eyes."
"Agreed." Yang nodded. "From generals to foot soldiers to civilians—anyone who resisted was a 'great hero.'"
The banquet soon began. The program was standard fare:
First, Liao Liewen took the stage, thanking the older generation of businesspeople on behalf of the younger ones. Then Liao Baoshan came up to boast about the future of Liao Chong Hing Bank and presented the model of their new headquarters.
Yang just listened quietly. He already knew that this bank would face a disaster two years later.
After the speeches, dinner was served, and performances followed—singing, dancing, and the like.
Suddenly, Yang spotted a familiar face.
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