Chapter 7: Blame |
Hangzhou Evening News was a local newspaper with not much fame.
Or rather, in recent years, print media has declined, and only a few well-known newspapers still hold any reputation. The office wasn't large and didn't have too many departments.
Besides the news department where ordinary reporters like Guan Shan worked, there were the editorial department, typesetting room, storage room, editor-in-chief's office, and a few independent offices for the leaders, plus a rarely used temporary dormitory.
Guan Shan walked out of the elevator that ran through the center of the building and turned right from the reception.
Passing by the restroom, the large office of the news department was on the left.
As soon as Guan Shan reached the door, he heard the loud voice of Deputy Editor-in-Chief Jiang Siyang: "Tell me, the fire scene was less than a hundred meters away from our newspaper office, yet our material sources were the citizen hotline and other media. No firsthand materials at all, all leftovers from others. Isn’t that embarrassing? Huh?"
The title of Deputy Editor-in-Chief might sound impressive, but Hangzhou Evening News had three Deputy Editors-in-Chief, and Jiang Siyang was just one of them.
Additionally, there was an editor-in-chief who also served as the president, forming the entire leadership team.
Typically, the three Deputy Editors-in-Chief took turns sitting in the office, one week per turn.
Though Guan Shan had only worked at the newspaper for half a year, he had roughly figured out the temperaments of the three Deputy Editors-in-Chief.
Generally, the other two rarely managed things, only stepping in for major events.
But Jiang Siyang loved doing two things: giving lectures and making examples out of people.
“He’s already giving a lecture… which means he’s likely going to make an example out of someone.”
Guan Shan silently sensed trouble and resignedly pushed the door open.
"Creak—"
The sound of the metal frame of the frosted glass door rubbing together drew everyone's attention in the office.
The moment Guan Shan walked in, all eyes were on him.
Over a dozen pairs of eyes silently, openly, and secretly watched him, creating an oppressive atmosphere comparable to the chef's crushing presence.
Shen Dinghua was among them.
The girl hid at her workstation in the corner, sneaking glances at him, her eyes filled with concern.
Guan Shan smiled at her, then turned and, with a thick skin, nodded and bowed slightly towards Jiang Siyang: "Hello, Director Jiang."
——“Director Jiang” was what Guan Shan had learned from some senior reporters, as Jiang Siyang particularly liked being addressed this way.
Jiang Siyang, in his forties, wore a suit and tie, had a scholarly look, gold-rimmed glasses, slicked-back hair with streaks of gray, meticulously combed.
When he stared straight at you, it felt like being caught by the high school principal for doing something wrong.
Guan Shan then turned and greeted Peng Fei, the news department head, who stood on the other side.
Peng Fei was a chubby middle-aged man with an honest face. He winked at Guan Shan, hinting that the situation was not good.
The atmosphere made it clear that the situation was bad… Guan Shan silently sighed and headed towards his seat, hoping to slip by unnoticed.
Unfortunately, things didn’t go as hoped.
"Stop."
Jiang Siyang spoke in a low voice, tapping the desk in front of him: "Guan Shan, I checked yesterday's clock-in records, you were the last one to leave, right?"
As expected… here it comes!
Guan Shan thought, feeling both extremely tired and a bit impatient.
He sighed inwardly and nodded: "Yes, it was me. I left after finishing the electronic edition’s two drafts. Director Jiang, is there a problem?"
Jiang Siyang’s face darkened: "A problem? Do you know about the fire at the SX snack shop yesterday?"
Guan Shan naturally nodded.
Before he could speak, Jiang Siyang continued: "The police reported that the fire started around one o'clock. You left at twelve-thirty, and I remember your way home was along the same route. Yet you didn’t provide any clues. Where’s your competence as a reporter?"
These words were completely unreasonable, pure venting of anger.
Guan Shan just happened to be caught in the crossfire! Normally, Guan Shan would nod and agree, dealing with it perfunctorily.
But today was different.
The thrilling, life-threatening moments from last night, the resulting fear, anger, and tension still lingered in Guan Shan’s mind.
Though simulated, the scenes were almost real, and no normal person could remain calm after experiencing that.
Moreover, he had barely slept and got up early for work.
Now, being unfairly questioned.
Guan Shan felt his emotions surging but restrained his anger: "Director Jiang, you can't ignore the facts. There's half an hour between twelve-thirty and one. The SX snack shop is five hundred meters from the office. Even if I walked slowly, I'd have long passed the shop. How could I provide clues?"
Jiang Siyang didn't expect this young reporter, who had only been here for half a year, to dare retort. But he was frustrated with the seasoned reporters who wouldn’t react, needing to assert his authority.
This kid was perfect material!
Jiang Siyang sneered inwardly: "Oh? Even if you didn't see the shop, you could see the smoke, right? And if not, you’d hear the sirens, wouldn’t you?"
"Something happened, and you ignored it. You either lack professional skills or are incredibly lazy!"
He glared at Guan Shan: "I think, for someone like you, lacking competence and enthusiasm, contributing nothing to the paper, why keep you?"
Nonsense! Twisting the facts! Even if Guan Shan could bear it, Shen Dinghua couldn't. She stood up angrily: "Deputy Editor Jiang, Guan Shan stayed late last night to finish the electronic edition drafts. He was the last to leave. In your eyes, does that mean he lacks competence and enthusiasm?"
She emphasized, "Are you denying the significance of employees' efforts?"
Jiang Siyang dismissed it: "Finishing work doesn't mean doing it well—why don't you send me the files so I can see how well it was done?"
He turned to Guan Shan with a condescending look.
Clearly, he was the boss, and whether the drafts were good or not was up to him.
Guan Shan's temper flared, but he kept his cool, walking up to Jiang Siyang: "No need, Director Jiang. If you think a reporter's competence is in those photos, then… what if I get them?"
He stared at Jiang Siyang: "What if I get photos of the fire scene?"
What I say matters, not you! Jiang Siyang's first instinct was to shut him down. He wasn’t actually interested in the photos, just establishing authority.
But before he could speak, he felt a strange sensation on his back.
"Ah!"
Jiang Siyang instinctively cried out, terrified.
He was leaning against his desk, and there was no one behind him! He turned sharply, seeing only a desk.
Yet the touch on his back was clear, cold and damp…
Jiang Siyang nervously touched his back.
It was wet!
Could it be… no, no, it must be a ceiling leak! Jiang Siyang's eyelids twitched, his hands trembling. Others looked on, puzzled.
Peng Fei hesitated: "Are you okay? Should we…"
Jiang Siyang regained his composure, though still shaken, and slammed the desk: "What do you mean… if you get them, then… then you’ve got skills!"
The onlookers were stunned. This “Jiang the Nitpicker” changed his tune?
He was ready to destroy someone, now saying "you’ve got skills"? "Knock, knock."
Suddenly, there was a crisp knock at the door.
"What’s all the noise about?"
A gentle yet authoritative voice asked.
Everyone turned to see a woman in a beige fitted dress standing at the door.
Her black hair was tied up, her elegant face exuding classical beauty, and her long, shapely legs were stunning.
Peng Fei hurried over: "Good morning, President."
The woman was Li Zhiying, the editor-in-chief and president of Hangzhou Evening News.