Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Next, Evan went to the offering box in the hall and put in a Silver Keren. Before the statue of the Sea God, he brought his hands together twice before his chest, then pressed his palms together and bowed. "May the seas be forever tranquil," he murmured, his movements pious and solemn, as if expressing his reverence and blessings to the sacred god of the ocean.

Looking up at the statue once more, Evan's heart was filled with emotion and awe. He then left the Sea God's church, as if bidding farewell to a place brimming with hope and strength.

Mike was a newly hired editor at the Bickland Curiosities News, full of passion and energy, eager to showcase his talent in this challenging industry. He was responsible for the initial screening of submissions from columnists, a task both challenging and full of potential. He had to weed out the utterly unreadable amateurish pieces and sort the barely passable ones by column, sending them to the respective column editors for a second round of preliminary review. This process was like sifting for treasure; he had to find the truly valuable articles among the multitude of submissions.

The job was tedious and uninteresting; if not for his love of literature, Mike would never have applied for such a low-paying, tedious weekly job. Every day, he faced a mountain of manuscripts—some riddled with typos and grammatical errors, others hollow and meaningless, and some simply incomprehensible. It took a great deal of time and effort to sift through and organize them, leaving him exhausted and frustrated.

"What is this garbage! Did these people even go to secondary school? Ten typos in three sentences! Who gave them the nerve to submit?" Mike grumbled in exasperation, crumpling the incomprehensible manuscript in his hand and tossing it straight into the trash. His face was a mix of anger and helplessness, as if protesting against those irresponsible submitters.

"Don't take it so seriously. Have some tea to calm down," said George, a fellow preliminary editor who had joined a year earlier. Experienced and even-tempered, he smiled as he poured Mike a cup of tea, trying to soothe his colleague's nerves.

"I really don't know what those people are thinking. Do they believe that just knowing how to write qualifies them to be writers?" Mike downed the cheap tea in one gulp and couldn't help but complain. His voice was full of dissatisfaction and skepticism, as if criticizing those unrealistic aspirants. "The newspaper industry in the empire is developing well. For published articles, the minimum rate is 10 Copper Huote per 100 words. That's bound to attract many people trying their luck." Mike's words conveyed his thoughts on the empire's newspaper development and his dissatisfaction with those trying their luck.

George was accustomed to this situation. After all, with the popularization of basic education, the empire's literacy rate had greatly increased. Even children from the slums had completed primary school. The rise in literacy brought more readers and writers, making the newspaper industry more prosperous and competitive.

With higher literacy, more people read newspapers, and consequently, more people wrote articles, even giving rise to professional writers. These writers made a living from their craft, their works diverse in style and content, offering readers more choices.

"But these articles are just too awful—they're practically polluting my eyes," Mike sighed, his face etched with weariness and resignation. He opened another envelope and pulled out the manuscript inside. Glancing down, he saw the title: *Henry's Adventure*. His first impression was of exceptionally beautiful handwriting. Mike couldn't help but feel relieved. Such fine penmanship indicated the writer had received a good education; at the very least, he wouldn't have to worry about typos and grammar. Then, Mike began to read the article seriously. It told the story of a young man named Henry, who had just come of age and ran away from home to the New World.

The story took place on a large ship. Shortly after boarding, Henry encountered a noble girl in an ornate dress. The thirteen-year-old girl, trying to shake off an annoying suitor, grabbed Henry, who happened to be passing by, and claimed he was her fiancé. Thus began the connection between a fifteen-year-old boy who had just reached adulthood and a proud yet adorable noble girl, leading to a series of...

...but amusing incidents, including the two dancing in swapped roles, sneaking into the kitchen together to steal food, and nearly dooming the whole ship when they tried fishing from the deck and almost hooked a sea monster. Interestingly, before the voyage began, a phantom thief had sent a notice declaring his intent to steal a precious blue sapphire necklace called the "Heart of the Ocean," owned by a marquis, adding a touch of detective-novel tension to the otherwise light and sweet story.

The author's writing was excellent. The humorous parts made one want to laugh out loud, the sweet moments could make one blush involuntarily, and the tense scenes made one hold their breath. Mike was hooked. He felt as if he were in that fantastical, adventurous world, experiencing those thrilling stories alongside Henry and the noble girl.

When he read about the phantom thief's first official appearance, the justice-driven Henry joined the effort to protect the "Heart of the Ocean." Chasing the thief, Henry accidentally stumbled into Mei's room while she was bathing, separated from him only by a curtain.

"What happens next? It's gone!" Mike wanted to see what would unfold but found no more pages! He felt an intense frustration, like a viewer engrossed in a thrilling show suddenly having it cut off. He almost wanted to rush to the author's home, hold a dagger to their throat, and force them to hand over the rest of the manuscript.

"What's wrong? Is that article really good? You were so absorbed earlier; I called your name twice, and you didn't respond," George asked, quite curious. If he didn't have so many manuscripts to review himself, he would definitely want to take a look.

"It's absolutely a piece that could become hugely popular," Mike declared immediately, picking up the envelope and manuscript, his heart brimming with excitement and anticipation. He headed to the editorial office for the Adventure Stories column. Each column was overseen by two senior editors and one editor-in-chief. When Mike entered, the two editors were reviewing submissions, and the editor-in-chief was drinking coffee. To help them stay alert, the newspaper provided cheap tea and coffee, but the coffee in the editor-in-chief's cup clearly wasn't from that stock. It emitted a rich aroma, speaking of the editor-in-chief's taste and status.

"Gentlemen, we must select a few good articles quickly. Our columnist, Mr. Thomas, announced his retirement a month ago. The manuscripts he left will run out in three days," the editor-in-chief said with a serious expression. His voice carried a sense of urgency and responsibility, as if reminding everyone of the pressing time and the importance of the task.

"Editor-in-chief, it's too difficult. If we publish these submissions, readers will surely cancel their subscriptions. I heard the general manager just signed a month-long advertising contract with several high-end shops. If sales drop, we probably won't get it renewed next month," one of the editors said irritably. His face showed worry and pressure, as if anxious about the newspaper's future.

Just then, Mike knocked twice on the door and walked in. "Gentlemen, I think you should take a look at this submission," Mike said, his voice filled with confidence and anticipation, as if presenting a precious treasure.

Author's Note:

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