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Chapter 26: A Gift

Song Xian’s life was comfortable, and her complexion looked even better. When she arrived at work on Monday, He Xiaoying couldn’t stop sneaking glances at her. She nudged Wu Ying and said, “You know how the books say someone’s skin is so soft it could drip water? I always thought that was exaggeration—until I saw our Song Xian!”

Wu Ying laughed. “Happiness makes you glow. Even my skin’s been better lately.”

“Of course it has.” The others joined in with a chuckle, and He Xiaoying added, “You two aren’t just glowing with joy—you’re basking in the glory of beating Meixiu!”

This time, Meixiu had really been crushed. Ever since they brought in Zhang Susu for a flashy PR campaign, they’d been strutting around like they owned the place, swaggering all over the main forum and dragging Man Tong through the mud whenever they could.

[Was Man Tong unable to book anyone for their first celebrity feature? No promo at all? Don’t tell me they actually couldn’t get a guest?]

[Is Man Tong planning to just leave their first celebrity spotlight blank?]

[Why are people still comparing Man Tong to Meixiu? They’re not even on the same level!]

All those digs that used to target Man Tong? This time, they were thrown right back—verbatim. And the best part? He Xiaoying and the others didn’t even need to lift a finger. They just bumped the posts to the top, and the effect was instant.

[Meixiu’s slap in the face this time—I’d call it a textbook industry example.]

[Sisters, aren’t both magazines releasing their first issue today?]

[Yes yes, waiting for 10 o’clock!]

He Xiaoying was glued to the forum too, barely able to focus on work, her whole mind caught up in the launch of the new issue. The magazine had both online and print editions. Print sales were harder to estimate immediately, but online numbers were a clear and instant indicator.

Typically, the initial online run hovered around thirty thousand. Only in rare cases would they go up to fifty thousand. Jiang Liuyi’s feature, however, was a rare exception among exceptions—it got bumped to fifty-five thousand.

They were starting with fifty-five thousand, while Meixiu’s run remained at thirty thousand. If Man Tong sold out first, Meixiu would no doubt put on a passive-aggressive show again. So everyone was closely watching the sales performance this time.

When Yuan Hong walked into the office, she found the team tense and on edge. Only Song Xian remained quietly seated at her desk, eyes calm as water, typing at a measured pace, her voice low and unhurried whenever she spoke.

As Yuan Hong passed by her, she felt her own mood settle without even realizing it.

Some people really do have a calming magic—just seeing them brings peace. Song Xian was one of those people.

In contrast, He Xiaoying beside her was bouncing around like a monkey. Yuan Hong walked past but couldn’t help doubling back and saying, “Try to be a little steadier. Look at Song Xian—nothing like you.”

He Xiaoying touched the tip of her nose and mumbled, a bit unsure, “Editor-in-Chief, do you think fifty-five thousand was too much?”

It was nearly double Meixiu’s count. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jiang Liuyi—on the contrary, quite a few friends had already called to reserve a copy. She was just afraid they’d fall short at the most critical moment.

This was also Yuan Hong’s first time setting the initial print run at fifty-five thousand, and deep down, she was a little uneasy too. “Let’s trust Ms. Jiang.”

Wu Ying asked, “Do you think we could ask Ms. Jiang to post a teaser before 10 o’clock?”

She looked a little embarrassed after saying it.

Yuan Hong glanced at Song Xian, hesitating. It was He Xiaoying who finally spoke up. “Song Xian…”

Song Xian, hearing them chat, turned her head and noticed all their eyes on her. Her voice was calm. “What is it?”

It was like a fresh spring—instantly cooling the air.

He Xiaoying asked, “Do you think you could ask your wife to help us with a teaser?”

That clause wasn’t in the contract, so technically Jiang Liuyi could have refused outright. But she was, after all, Song Xian’s wife—so He Xiaoying shamelessly asked anyway. Song Xian gave a faint smile. “I’ll ask her.”

Yuan Hong laughed. “Yes, go ahead—please do.”

Wu Ying looked like she was about to hold the phone up to Song Xian’s ear herself. Under their collective anticipation, Song Xian called Jiang Liuyi. Her tone and manner were the same as ever—calm, composed. “Are you up?”

Jiang Liuyi was already in the piano room, hand resting lightly on the keys. She hadn’t expected a call from Song Xian. “Mm. What’s wrong?”

“The magazine goes on sale at ten. Did you know?”

Jiang Liuyi closed the lid of the piano. “I know. Want me to do a teaser?”

Song Xian hadn’t expected her to be so perceptive. She paused. “If it’s convenient.”

“It is.” Jiang Liuyi rarely posted anything personal on Weibo, but she had a huge following—some genuinely loved her music, others simply liked her photos. After she’d posted about the upcoming feature, her fans had gone wild. It was her first interview, and she’d even talked about the marriage. 

They were buzzing with curiosity, camping on her feed every day hoping for a picture of her and Song Xian together. So lately, her Weibo page had been unusually active.

As soon as Jiang Liuyi opened Weibo, she saw her inbox flooded—not just fan messages, but mostly collaboration offers and interview invites. She’d never paid much attention to those. Closing her DMs, she posted a teaser link—just the official Man Tong account. Within minutes, the comment section was buzzing.

[What time does it start?]

[Is it ten? It’s ten, right? Please, sisters, don’t fight me for it—I’m only buying one copy!]

[Our Yiyi’s very first interview. Probably won’t happen again. This is the one and only!]

Whenever phrases like “first time,” “one and only,” or “no next time” came up, they carried a certain collectible charm. Even people who weren’t her fans started getting interested.

Watching the activity on the official account, Yuan Hong said, “Ms. Jiang is actually pretty easygoing.”

He Xiaoying nodded. “You guys don’t even know. The first time I saw her, I thought she’d be super fierce—all that intense beauty. But she’s really not. Ms. Jiang’s personality is actually really nice.”

“Exactly! I remember going to toast her once—before I could even speak, she told me not to be nervous.”

Everyone started chatting about their first impressions of Jiang Liuyi. Wu Ying turned to Song Xian. “What about you? What did you think the first time you saw her?”

Surely she’d been captivated by that beauty.

After all, it had been love at first sight.

Song Xian looked up from her screen at Wu Ying’s question. After a few seconds of thought, she said, “I just thought her voice was nice.”

Wu Ying exclaimed, “What?! That’s it? You weren’t stunned? No spark, no dazzle?!”

Song Xian replied coolly, “It was fine.”

Wu Ying was left speechless.

He Xiaoying, seeing her like that, remembered how she’d been shut down earlier. Now, at last, she felt vindicated.

Their banter went on until someone called out, “It’s almost ten!”

He Xiaoying dropped into her chair, straightened her monitor, and stared at the screen like her life depended on it. Yuan Hong stood right behind her—she had no intention of going back to her desk and just watched from over her shoulder. 

Even the layout editor joined the crowd. A cluster of heads gathered in front of He Xiaoying’s computer. Song Xian glanced sideways at them and found the whole scene rather amusing.

Her own calm began to ripple, affected by the group’s anticipation. She turned to watch quietly.

9:50. 9:55…

He Xiaoying was practically stumbling over her own words. She kept refreshing the page. The “On Sale” button was still grayed out. People on the main forum had already started threads asking which magazine would sell out first.

There were quite a few siding with Meixiu—after all, their initial print run was lower.

9:59.

Song Xian lifted her cup and took a small sip, her gaze clear and calm. He Xiaoying, sitting at her desk, was tense all over, her whole body taut with anticipation. Her hands were clenched tight. Even Yuan Hong couldn’t help swallowing nervously. Everyone’s eyes were locked on the screen.

The words “On Sale” lit up.

In an instant, more than half of the 55,000 copies were gone—35,000, then 30,000, then 25,000—whoosh, within seconds only a few thousand remained. Wu Ying asked anxiously, “Did you guys get one? Did you?”

Only then did He Xiaoying remember she should support it by buying a copy herself. She had just clicked the purchase button when the screen went dark. A message popped up: Sold Out.

The entire office went silent for two full seconds.

Then He Xiaoying jumped to her feet and let out a series of ecstatic screams. She ran around the office in circles, hugging everyone, finally stopping in front of Song Xian. She grabbed her in a fierce hug, overwhelmed with joy.

And no wonder. She’d been the lead writer on this issue—and now, all 55,000 online copies had sold out. Who knew how much her bonus would multiply?

Still clinging to Song Xian, she shouted, “Thank you, Ms. Jiang! Ms. Jiang is a goddess! I’m treating Ms. Jiang to dinner!”

Song Xian was amused by her rambling excitement and couldn’t help smiling as she gently shook her head. Just then, her phone vibrated with two soft pings. She looked down to see Jiang Liuyi’s name flashing on the screen.

[Jiang Liuyi: Sold out?]

Song Xian, still a little infected by He Xiaoying’s excitement, replied: [Mm, sold out. Thank you, Ms. Jiang.]

Ms. Jiang?

It was a perfectly proper form of address, yet Jiang Liuyi somehow picked up something less proper in the tone. Her face grew hot as she cleared her throat. Instead of replying, she went to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.

Song Xian put down her phone and heard the others talking about Meixiu and the bonuses.

“Meixiu sold out too, but they were over three minutes behind us.”

“Three minutes? That’s enough time to end a whole talent show performance.”

“I’m gonna die laughing—how do they still have the nerve to say it was close on the forums?”

He Xiaoying glanced over. Wu Ying was reading a thread on the main forum, posted anonymously. Someone claimed people were overhyping Man Tong, saying it wasn’t much different from Meixiu. Sure, Meixiu was a few minutes behind, but they sold out too.

“Jealous, much? Close? Our initial run was double theirs!”

“Exactly. Let them try printing fifty-five thousand—pretty sure they’d be sitting there clutching unsold copies, crying.”

The more He Xiaoying thought about it, the more annoyed she got. She fired off a reply: [How is 30,000 vs. 55,000 ‘close’? How is a 3-minute gap ‘close’? What’s smearing your eyes—mud or bias? Is that you, Yu Cai?]

Yu Cai’s heart skipped a beat when she saw that reply. But then she remembered she was posting anonymously—and had already deleted her earlier comments. What was there to be afraid of? She jumped right into the argument with He Xiaoying.

The rest of the forum only fueled the fire. In no time, the post shot up in popularity and landed on the HOT list. He Xiaoying’s eyes were red with fury. She rolled up her sleeves, ready to go another round. Just then, Yuan Hong returned from a call, frowning. “What’s going on?”

Wu Ying complained, “Meixiu’s spreading nonsense again!”

But Yuan Hong wasn’t angry at all. She actually smiled. “Let them talk—it’s not like it’s going to hurt us.”

Noticing her unusually cheerful mood, He Xiaoying asked, “Is there good news?”

Yuan Hong nodded. “We sold out just now. The buzz got so intense that the publicity team opened preorders. Guess how many we’ve got already?”

Everyone turned to her, eyes lighting up. Yuan Hong said, “Just over a hundred thousand, give or take.”

“Damn!” someone blurted out, breaking the momentary silence. He Xiaoying immediately sent out the news: [Wow, just heard from a friend—Man Tong’s online reprint just passed 100k and still climbing. How much is Meixiu reprinting this round, huh?]

Yu Cai clenched her jaw as she stared at the message, her hand slamming down on the mouse with a click.

Delete post.

He Xiaoying burst into laughter, clapping her hands in delight. Yuan Hong said, “Drama aside, the biggest credit this time really goes to Song Xian.” She looked down at Song Xian and pulled a box from her bag. “A wedding gift.”

Song Xian froze, glancing at the box, then back at her. Yuan Hong smiled. “Congratulations on your marriage.”

The others stood up as well, offering their genuine wishes. “Song Xian, congratulations!”

A feeling rose in Song Xian’s chest—something she hadn’t quite felt before. It was strange, but not unwelcome. She lowered her head and accepted Yuan Hong’s gift, her voice soft. “Thank you.”