Boulevard Maine is a street located in the western district of Paris, which is still a short distance from the city center, and residents have to take a horse-drawn carriage to get to the city center.

And the remote location also means that the environment here is not satisfactory:

The potholed roads have not been maintained for a long time, and there is a pungent stench on the streets, and almost no one is responsible for lighting and extinguishing the street lamps on both sides of the road, and the lamp oil inside may have been stolen long ago.

However, despite the location and environment, for Mr. Haython, who runs the Observer Daily, the low rent forced him to locate the newspaper's editorial office here.

Room 78 on Maine Avenue is not a tall brick building, but a low, somewhat dilapidated two-story building.

It looks no different from the surrounding houses, except that there is a large blackboard hanging at the door, on which is written in beautiful and neat flower characters:

"Observer Daily, please contact Mr. Haytham if you have any questions."

In an office on the second floor of the newspaper, a middle-aged man in an old dress with a full beard is sighing at the sales report on the table.

The man who seemed to be a little lost was Mr. Haytham, who was both the proprietor and editor-in-chief of the small newspaper.

At this moment, there was no sparkle in his eyes at all, and every number on the miserable sales report on the table was stinging his eyes.

"Less than 400 copies a day are sold..."

President Haytham rubbed his eyes bitterly, and silently calculated the income and expenses of the newspaper in his heart:

"I earn a sur per newspaper... It's twenty livres a day, and six hundred livres a month. Alas... This money is barely enough to pay the rent and the salaries of the employees, and if you are unlucky, you have to put the money in..."

After coming up with such a distracting result, President Haytham couldn't help but let out a long breath, eager to go straight into the wine bottle in the morning to borrow wine to drown his sorrows.

He was also a well-appointed editor of a large newspaper with a decent salary, but after one unfortunate offending of the editor-in-chief, he was quickly stripped of his job.

President Haython, who had lost his job, decided to pursue his old business, so he gritted his teeth and took out all his family money and started the newspaper after borrowing a few loans.

However, President Haytham has a lot of ability to dance and write, but he is much more mediocre in terms of management, which is why the newspaper is struggling to go out of business.

"If you can't do it, you'll have to make a living... If you sell all the equipment and furniture, you should be able to recoup some of the capital, at least part of the loan first. The children will not go to school yet, and my wife will have to find a job as a female worker..."

President Haltham muttered to himself a little confused, as if recalling the days when he had no worries about food and clothing:

"It's just that what can a person like me do without a desk..."

Just when the small room was shrouded in boundless melancholy, a staff member pushed the door open with a little excitement and broke in, reporting:

"President, a gentleman said he wanted to see you, and he was downstairs."

"A gentleman?"

President Haytham was stunned for a moment, and in his impression, very few people would take the initiative to visit this newspaper; If there is, most of them are not here with good intentions.

The clerk nodded and said:

"Yes, a young gentleman, very well dressed, came in a carriage."

"It's... Let's bring him in first. ”

President Haytham hesitated for a moment, but nodded and asked his subordinates to bring the gentleman up, while muttering a little uneasily:

"I guess I'm looking for trouble..."

...

Downstairs at the Observer's daily office, Lawrence looked curiously at the dilapidated building in front of him, and could smell the pungent smell of ink emanating from inside just by standing outside.

The staff who received him received permission from President Haytham to lead Lawrence into the newspaper office in a panic.

The newspaper has two floors, each of which is not large.

As soon as I entered the door, I saw a huge printing press that occupied two-thirds of the first floor, and bundles of yellow paper of poor quality were cluttered on the ground.

"It's no wonder that the quality of the newspaper is so poor, there is not even a cooperative printing house, it is like a small family workshop."

Lawrence glanced at the printing press on the first floor, and from this he could see that the newspaper's financial problems were very worrisome, otherwise it would not have to start its own printing business to save costs.

Walking through the dusty lead printing floor, Lawrence was led up to the second floor by the staff.

The second floor was much cleaner, and there were nearly ten people working at their desks, plus a few expatriate reporters, who seemed to be all the employees of the newspaper.

In the deepest room on the second floor, Lawrence met President Haytham with a restless and nervous expression.

"Well, hello sir, I'm Haytham, the editor-in-chief and president of this newspaper."

President Haytham opened his mouth in greeting, and at the same time carefully looked at the visitor in front of him, it was indeed a young and well-dressed gentleman, and the air of a superior man was like the heir of some hereditary duke.

As he spoke, President Haytham hurriedly opened the desk drawer, took out a yellowed business card from it and handed it over.

Lawrence took the business card and glanced at it, nodded and put it in his pocket, then turned his head to look at the layout of the office:

All the furniture was old, apparently not new but from the second-hand market, and even the chair beneath Lawrence creaked from time to time.

Looking at President Haytham again, there are also a few inconspicuous patches on his gray dress, which seems to be many years old, and the style is probably the style that was popular ten years ago.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, President Haython, and the newspaper is very good."

Lawrence had roughly speculated about the newspaper's business before smiling at President Haytham and said.

"Uh..."

President Haytham couldn't help but chop up when he heard this, wondering if Lawrence was sarcastic about himself, and no one would think that this was a good newspaper.

With miserable sales, almost zero profits, dilapidated facilities, and a sparse number of employees, the newspaper is nearing the end of its life.

Only someone with ulterior motives like Lawrence would call it good.

Because in Lawrence's eyes, the lower the starting point of this newspaper, the easier it is for him to hold it in his hands.

As for the current difficult situation, it doesn't matter at all, Lawrence has a way to get the Daily Observer to appear in the mailboxes of every house, even in the King's Suite at the Palace of Versailles.

"If you don't mind, President Haython."

Lawrence leaned back in the uncomfortable wooden chair and said with ease:

"Can you tell me about the newspaper?"

President Haytham looked at Lawrence cautiously again, and although he did not know the identity of this gentleman or his purpose, it was clear that the other party was a man of great position.

Since he asked such a question, President Haytham still said seriously:

"As you can see, this is the Observer Daily, and we were founded to raise our voice against the strange phenomena in society, to raise our voice against the reality of injustice, to..."

"Ah, that's a good original intention and ideal."

Lawrence chuckled and interrupted President Haytham by saying:

"But I think it's good to try this kind of thing, so let's talk about the current situation of this newspaper."

President Haytham couldn't help but pause, then nodded helplessly, sighed and said:

"The status quo... Actually, there is nothing to say, everything in this newspaper is here. A small rented building, a printing press, a dozen employees, and a miserable newspaper that sells 400 copies a day, that's it. Do you want to ask these things...? ”

Lawrence kept a flat smile and said slowly:

"I want to buy it."

"Buy... Buying this newspaper? ”

President Haytham swallowed, a little unbelieving his ears.

Lawrence didn't talk nonsense, took out a deposit slip with a denomination of ten thousand livres directly from his chest, slapped it on the table, and gently pushed it in front of him.

"Commercile de France... Deposit slips..."

Even before he lost his job, he was not rich enough to keep his money in the bank, and this was the first time he had seen a real deposit slip.

However, after seeing the denomination on it, President Haythami's heart stopped beating for a moment, and the string of eye-catching numbers on the deposit slip occupied all his vision.

"Ten hundred thousand... Ten thousand livres...?! ”

Rao was the cultivation of President Helsen, and he couldn't help but scream directly, grabbed the deposit slip, and held it in his hand in disbelief to examine it carefully.

Even when he worked for a major newspaper before, President Haytham's salary was only 60 livres per month, which was equivalent to his salary for more than ten years of work without eating or drinking.

Not to mention that he now runs this newspaper that can't make ends meet, and he never thought that such a huge sum of money would appear in front of him.

"This deposit slip... Or did Mr. Montmartre personally sign it ... Wait a minute?! ”

President Haytham looked at the deposit slip and suddenly remembered something, and couldn't help but look up at Lawrence, his expression full of surprise.

In any case, President Hayson is also a journalist, and he is of course aware of the recent big news in the financial world, namely that Mr. Montmartre has injected a million livres into the Corsican National Silver Company.

As president, Monsieur Montmartre rarely personally issued certificates of deposit.

"That is to say..."

President Halson subconsciously wiped the cold sweat on his forehead, immediately corrected his body, tidied up his clothes in a panic, looked at Lawrence, and asked tentatively:

"You are Lord Bonaparte...?"

For this rising political star who has recently become famous, President Haytham can't believe that he actually appeared at his desk.

Lawrence ignored President Haytham's shock, tapped his fingers lightly on the table, raised his eyebrows and asked:

"What do you think? President Haython, 10,000 livres, completely buys your newspaper. I have only two conditions: that you continue to be in charge of the operation of the newspaper as editor-in-chief and operator, and that the contents of the Daily Observer must be distributed according to my ideas. ”

President Haytham didn't care about the two conditions that Lawrence said, looked at the priceless deposit slip in his hand and nodded without thinking about it, and his cheeks turned red date color because he was too excited.

"Very well, this is a really pleasant deal, the contract or something will be talked about later."

Lawrence said with satisfaction as he stretched out his right hand.

President Haytham also hurriedly held Lawrence's hand tightly and said excitedly:

"You're the boss, you have the final say."

With the two hands together, the deal was officially sealed.

Although the formal contract has not yet been signed, President Haytham does not dare to use this to play any tricks.

He knew very well that a little person like himself was a little worm in front of Lawrence, and if he dared to play any tricks today, his family would be able to collect his body in a stinky ditch tomorrow.

President Haytham smiled and carefully tucked the deposit slip into his pocket, then stood up and respectfully invited Lawrence to his seat while he himself changed to Lawrence's chair.

"So let's talk about the Observer Daily."

After completing the transaction, Lawrence also regained his serious look, spread out the daily Observer and financial news that he bought in the morning on the table, and said slowly.

"Of course, of course, do you have any ideas?"

After getting down to business, President Haytham was a little more excited, and he looked at Lawrence cautiously and asked.

Lawrence pointed to the two newspapers on the table and said:

"First of all, the Daily Observer can no longer use this inferior paper and printing, I need you to contact the printing house, and the quality of the newspaper must be up to the level of this financial news."

"It's... But the cost of such a newspaper is nearly five surs, so that our profit will be...," said President Haytham with a frown.

"Money is not an issue, and I don't want to make money from newspapers." Lawrence interrupted with a direct wave of his hand, completely unconcerned about the impact on profits that President Haytham said.

"It's... Well, you have the final say. After a moment's hesitation, President Haytham quickly took out his memo and jotted down Lawrence's instructions.

Anyway, President Haytham is not responsible for the profit and loss of the newspaper now, and since Lawrence has the money to toss, he naturally can't take care of it.

"Also, the content of your newspaper is really boring."

Lawrence pointed to today's observer daily newspaper and said:

"Look at your front page today, with the headline 'A critique of the high age of working women in the area around Paris'"

"Uh," said President Haytham with a smirk.

"You know, there are women who are still doing manual work to make ends meet, even in their sixties and seventies, and we're very concerned about that, so..."

"I don't care what you think, but this headline makes people not interested in reading, even if I read the content of this report quite well, it should be written by you."

Lawrence shook his head resolutely and said:

"The style of the Daily Observer has to change, starting with the headline, like this story, you can change it to 'Shocked!' The seventy-year-old lady works in the field every day, and the reason is that it is...! 'That's it. ”

"It's... Isn't it a bit of a false report..."

President Haytham couldn't close his mouth for a long time, and he had a vague feeling that this style of headline was indeed more eye-catching, but it also seemed to deviate from the principle of seeking truth from facts.

Lawrence, on the other hand, ignored him and gushed on and on about a series of changes.

It wasn't until more than an hour had passed that Lawrence had finished his thoughts, and President Haytham had a memo that was densely packed with three pages.

"God, Sir Bonaparte, I must say that your ideas are very bold and creative, whether it is the number of each newspaper as a voucher for a lottery, or the creation of a serialized section in the newspaper, and all other things, which have never been done before in the press, but..."

President Haytham rubbed his sore wrist and said with some hesitation:

"The audience for our newspaper is still too small, and it may take a long time for your changes to bear fruit."

Hearing this, Lawrence pondered for a rare moment, and then suddenly stared at President Haytham and said in a deep voice:

"Don't worry, I'll have the Observer Daily report on an exclusive story soon, and of course there will be no worries about sales. But before that, I want the news that I am the owner of the Observer Daily as a secret between you and me. ”

"Don't worry, I'll just say that the newspaper has a patron, and I won't reveal the slightest bit of your news."

President Haytham hurriedly patted his chest and reassured.

"Very well, I'm sure you can handle this, then it's almost time for me to go."

Lawrence looked at the time on his pocket watch and said, then got up and patted President Haytham on the shoulder, and whispered:

"Work well for me, and your office will one day be moved from this dilapidated building to the Louvre."

"I will, Lord Bonaparte."

President Haytham shuddered as if a burst of electricity was rushing through his body, and then he said in a grateful voice.