Chapter 499 - 445: Not a Mediocre Talent

When the first rays of sunlight in Manhattan pierced through the glass window into the bedroom, Song Heping instinctively opened his eyes.

Even though he had arrived here just two days ago, he was fortunate that he came from Venezuela, where the time difference wasn't severe, so he still woke up promptly at six in the morning.

Ordinarily, Song Heping would spring up as if released from a tightly coiled spring, but today he did not.

Because there was a charming person beside him.

So, he carefully lifted the blanket, carefully moved his feet from the bed to the floor, and carefully sat up. Then, like a thief, he tiptoed across the wooden floor to the foot of the bed, picked up the clothes on the floor, and then tiptoed out of the bedroom.

Before leaving, he turned his head to look back at the bed.

Angel was sleeping soundly.

After a lengthy battle last night that drained quite a bit of energy, it was understandable that they slept in.

Stepping out into the living room, Song Heping looked around at the house he hadn't thoroughly inspected last night.

It had a typical minimalist European-American style.

It seemed that this was Angel's preferred style, whether in her office or her personal apartment.

Though it was an apartment, and a high-rise one at that, it was quite spacious.

This was Song Heping's first visit to New York and he was not familiar with the roads, so he had no idea where this was.

He drew the curtains in the living room, revealing a large glass door, with a balcony outside.

What surprised Song Heping was that he saw an extremely elongated park, embedded like an emerald in this urban concrete forest of towering buildings.

Song Heping slid open the glass door and stepped out onto the balcony.

The wind was a bit strong, but very cool. Coupled with the crisp morning air, it was invigorating.

Walking over to the edge of the balcony, he looked down and estimated that he was about twenty or thirty floors above the ground.

"Manhattan…"

Surveying the surroundings, he figured out roughly where he was.

He never ate pork, but he had seen pigs run.

Song Heping had never been to Manhattan but he knew this famous park. Moreover, he knew one thing—houses here were very expensive!

"The environment is nice... If I ever get rich, I'll get a place here too!"

He stretched lazily towards the nearby park, against the cool breeze.

After stretching, Song Heping felt completely awake. He turned around, went back inside, and began to look for the kitchen.

Because he was quite hungry now.

At last night's reception, the food was all buffet-style and quite exquisite, which wasn't enough for someone who had been a soldier.

The situation didn't allow him to keep grabbing more food, as it would make him look like a starving ghost reincarnated. He didn't understand how those Westerners filled their stomachs, wandering around all evening with champagne glasses and seemingly very resistant to hunger.

Speaking of food, Song Heping felt that nothing nourished the body like the traditional food from his hometown.

The more he thought about it, the hungrier he got. After searching in the kitchen fridge for a while, he finally found some ingredients to make breakfast.

Angel was awakened by the aroma.

She opened her eyes and vaguely smelled something appetizing.

It wasn't perfume, it was the smell of food.

The door was not closed properly, leaving a small gap, through which Angel got up, draped on her robe, and followed the scent to the kitchen.

Since the kitchen was open-plan, she immediately saw Song Heping, who was busy by the stove.

She intended to greet him, but ended up just leaning against the doorway, silently watching the man skillfully busy himself.

Finally, when Song Heping turned around again, he saw Angel.

"You're awake?"

"What are you making?"

Only then did Angel walk over, joining Song Heping by his side.

There were two large bowls by the stove, each filled with noodles.

"Where did you find noodles?"

"I made them from the flour I found in your cupboard, but it's not as good as the flour from my hometown."

"Where did you get the beef?"

"The beef was in the fridge. I chopped it up."

Soon, two steaming bowls of noodles were served at the dining table.

Angel leaned over the bowl and took a sniff, praising, "It smells delicious, not any worse than what the Chinese restaurants outside serve."

Afterward, with her large eyes looking tenderly at Song Heping across the table, she said, "It's the first time a man has made me breakfast."

"There are no chopsticks, you'll have to use a fork," Song Heping handed her a fork. "Didn't your father ever make you breakfast?"

"No." Angel twirled a forkful of noodles like spaghetti, blowing on it as she spoke, "He's always been busy, as long as I can remember, our family…"

She shook her head, a somewhat helpless expression on her face.

Then she asked, "What about your father?"

Between mouthfuls of noodles, Song Heping replied, "He made breakfast for me every day since I was young. Sometimes he had to leave early for farm work, so he'd leave it in the kitchen. Later, when I started elementary school, I took over his responsibilities, looking after my younger siblings."

Angel remarked, "No wonder you're so good at taking care of people."

Her curiosity about Song Heping intensified, recognizing that this man came from a world entirely different from her own.

Everything about her was unfamiliar to him.

And everything about him was foreign to her.

"Oh! Right!"

Angel suddenly remembered something, got up quickly, and walked to the living room, picking up the remote control to turn on the TV.

"Yesterday, Faire called me saying he had already cast the line, and the DOD spokesperson had taken the bait. Tonight, I'm arranging for him to be a guest at a CNN political interview, where he'll add fuel to the fire at the right moment to see how the military reacts."

As she was speaking, the TV was replaying the scene from yesterday's DOD news conference.

Song Heping focused on the screen, watching until the segment where Faire asked his questions.

He noticed that Colonel Lai De initially seemed a little flustered by the questioning.

But Fern had stopped the question just at the right moment.

In fact, Song Heping wished Fern could have pressured Colonel Lai De even more, to the extent that the Pentagon and White House would notice and dare not send troops.

But if that happened, Fern would have no benefit.

He needed this news.

That was his willingness and basis for action.

Otherwise, he wouldn't want to engage in this matter.

Reality was cruel.

It was possible to subdue the enemy without fighting, simply by sensationalizing the news to halt the US Army and Colombian Government Army's operations. However, to satisfy Fern, Song Heping could only agree to let them proceed until the US Army deployed troops, form a factual basis, and then expose the evidence to create a media focal point.

Interacting with more and more people, Song Heping gradually learned some of the rules of the game.

Sometimes, in planning a military operation or action, it wasn't just military factors to consider—many other elements needed consideration.

Everyone had their own bargaining chips; if you want help from others, you must bring something to the table in exchange.

When the screen showed Fern suddenly claiming his sources came from the internet, getting mocked by Colonel Lai De, Song Heping could only sigh silently while also admiring this seasoned media figure.

Provoking gently, lining up patiently, without showing any intention.

Colonel Lai De unwittingly fell into the trap, and both the Pentagon and White House were hooked without realizing.

This sparked a new idea in him.

"Angel, did you say Fern isn't very happy at his newspaper, right?"

"Yes," Angel nodded.

Song Heping asked, "How much would it cost him to break the contract?"

"Five million US Dollars," Angel replied. "Of course, let lawyers negotiate some kind of out-of-court settlement, it might cost less. However, if his newspaper refuses to budge, then it must be five million, because that's what the contract stipulates."

She suddenly became curious why Song Heping was so interested in Fern's contract, so she asked, "Why do you ask?"

Song Heping said, "Fern is quite talented. Do you think he'd be interested in starting his own news media company?"

"That..."

Angel was stunned.

"Starting a news media company is no small matter. There are so many minor newspapers and TV stations across America, most without much influence, and those with some influence are acquired and controlled by large financial groups."

She pointed her finger at the ceiling.

"There are people above."

"I see..." Song Heping was somewhat disappointed.

Seeing him like this, Angel added, "Although that's the case, it's not entirely hopeless. The internet has given many people new opportunities. I've been working on my company's website lately and deeply feel that the future belongs to the internet."

"Isn't it said that the internet is in a bubble?" Song Heping asked.

Angel replied, "No, no, no, that is only temporary. Like stocks, there are ups and downs, after the bubble bursts, what's left is solid gold. Right now, entering the internet industry is a good timing."

Song Heping shook his head: "I don't understand."

Angel explained, "The internet bubble burst over four years ago. Now many websites are in a slump and many are struggling to survive and plan to sell. If you're considering establishing a news media company, it would be best to acquire a newspaper and then a website for higher exposure. Many decent websites are now very cheap and already have significant traffic, it's like going public, buying a shell is more cost-effective."

"I see..."

Song Heping's eyes were opened.

Angel was truly talented.

From her, Song Heping felt he had learned a lot.

"What kind of funds are needed to execute your plan?"

Angel said, "A small city newspaper could be bought for a few million US Dollars, and as for a website, it depends on the traffic. Cheap ones are being sold for tens of thousands, and even some well-known ones from a couple of years ago cost at most twenty million US Dollars."

"Twenty million..."

Song Heping started calculating.

This amount of money wasn't really that much.

But if they were to bring Fern over to run it, it would be at least twenty-five million US Dollars.

The problem was that he had recently bought many fighter jets, spending a lot of liquid funds.

Currently, only about four million US Dollars remained in the company's account.

If the business with Morins completed smoothly, the final payment would be five million US Dollars, making it over ten million.

Considering other options...

After much thought,

Song Heping felt that he at least needed to wait another six months before the company could easily spare that amount of money.

"I'll think about it."

Angel noticed his concerns, "Are you thinking of entering the media industry?"

Song Heping said, "Yes, from a modern military science perspective, public opinion is also a weapon, if used properly..."

He pointed towards the television.

"It can rival thousands of troops."

Angel was slightly taken aback.

The man before her, though from a humble background, did not lack in scope and vision in the slightest, indeed a promising prospect.

"If you're interested, you might give it a try."

Song Heping gave a wry smile, "I'm just thinking about it right now, I don't have so much liquid funds on hand, I've bought too much recently, I even bought land in Venezuela to build a school, just that alone cost over ten million US Dollars."

"Is it a matter of money?" Angel asked.

Song Heping nodded, "What else could it be but money?"

Angel laughed, "Problems that money can solve aren't problems at all."

Song Heping was stunned.

Looking at Angel, who smiled so confidently before him, his first thought was—damn, does that mean I need to be taken care of?

Can I manage it on my own?