Chương 9: Strike While the Iron Is Hot

The next morning, Arthur got up as usual to go to work. Just as he was about to leave the apartment, he saw his landlady, Mrs. Dalton, standing at the door with a broom.

When she saw Arthur, the expression on her face softened considerably.

"Mr. Kennedy, I heard you got promoted?"

"Yes, Mrs. Dalton." Arthur smiled and took out a few bills from his wallet.

"This is this month's rent, and next month's too."

Mrs. Dalton took the money, and a smile finally appeared on her face, even showing some enthusiasm.

"I knew you were a promising young man. By the way, if you need a better room, there's a south-facing one on the third floor with great natural light, it only costs..."

Arthur wasn't very interested. If he remembered correctly, New York's housing prices had dropped considerably during the Great Depression. With his current income, he could save up enough to buy a decent small apartment.

"Thank you, Mrs. Dalton, I will consider it."

Arthur politely interrupted her sales pitch and strode toward the streetcar that led to Midtown Manhattan.

The atmosphere on the tram today was quite different from usual. Many people were holding newspapers, their faces showing an indescribable sense of panic.

"Did you see that? The stock market dropped eleven points yesterday!"

"My God, I lost three hundred dollars in one day on my RCA stock!"

"Experts say this is just a temporary pullback, and it will rebound next week..."

"Experts? What good are experts! Didn't you see that article in the New York Daily News? That 'honest guy' said it long ago: this is a sign of impending collapse!"

The tram slowly pulled into Manhattan.

Through the car window, Arthur could see that the atmosphere on the street was noticeably more tense than the day before. Many shops had signs saying "Clearance Sale" in their windows, and long lines had formed outside banks as people rushed to withdraw their savings.

"This is just the beginning," Arthur muttered to himself.

"The real disaster is yet to come."

When Arthur walked into the editorial office of The New York Daily News at nine o'clock in the morning, the whole atmosphere changed.

His colleagues, who had previously ignored him, were now all showing fawning smiles.

Good morning, Mr. Kennedy!

"Arthur, did you sleep well last night?"

"Would you like some coffee? I'll get you some!"

Arthur nodded politely and walked to his workstation.

Then he froze.

His old, rickety desk was gone, replaced by a spacious mahogany desk, complete with a brand-new typewriter and a leather swivel chair.

There was also a set of exquisite fountain pens on the table.

"How is it? Do you like it?"

Jimmy walked over at some point, a smug smile on his face.

"This was Mr. Hearst's special instruction. He said that the newspaper's stars should be treated like stars."

Arthur looked at the luxurious desk, then glanced at Jason, who was standing silently not far away.

He was tidying up documents with his head down, his face gloomy and his eyes full of resentment.

"Thank you," Arthur said.

"You're welcome!" Jimmy patted him on the shoulder.

"You deserve it! By the way, Mr. Hearst wants to see you upstairs. He says he has something important to discuss."

Arthur nodded and turned to walk towards the elevator.

Hearst's office was located on the top floor of the building, a luxurious room overlooking the entire Manhattan skyline.

Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the direction of Wall Street was still bustling with people, but the frenzied atmosphere had turned into panic.

"Arthur!" Hearst stood up and warmly shook his hand.

"Sit down, sit down! Here, try this, a Cuban cigar, the best of the best."

"Thank you, Mr. Hearst. I don't smoke."

"Haha, young people are so energetic!" Hearst lit a cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke.

"Arthur, do you know what? Starting yesterday, 'Van Dyke's Stock Market Diary' isn't just a hit in New York; newspapers in Philadelphia, Boston, and Chicago have all sent telegrams wanting to reprint it. You're famous, really famous!"

"Really?" Arthur's heart skipped a beat.

"Of course!" Hearst said excitedly.

"I received countless calls asking who 'the honest man on Wall Street' is. Some said you're an insider on Wall Street, some said you're an economics professor, and some said you're some mysterious prophet."

He paused for a moment, a glint of light flashing in his eyes.

"Arthur, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Do you know what happened this morning?"

"What?"

Hearst picked up a telegram from his desk and handed it to Arthur.

"President Hoover has just issued a statement."

Arthur took the telegram, which contained an official statement from the White House press office:

"American businesses, namely the production and distribution of goods, are based on sound and prosperous foundations."

Arthur almost burst out laughing after reading that sentence.

The stock market has crashed, and President Hoover is still talking about "the foundations of soundness and prosperity"? Isn't that just self-deception?

"You find it ridiculous too, right?"

Hearst laughed.

"I knew you'd think that. Arthur, this is a golden opportunity. President Hoover wants to use these kinds of words to stabilize public sentiment and stimulate a new round of investment. But we all know it's just self-deception."

He leaned forward, his tone becoming serious.

"I hope you can strike while the iron is hot and write another article. Write about President Hoover's statement, about those who are still deceiving themselves. I want to release this article as an extra edition this afternoon, so that all of New York can see it."

"If necessary, I'll arrange for newspapers in Chicago and Boston to reprint your story, and then you'll become a celebrity across America."

Arthur remained silent for a few seconds.

He understood what Hearst meant. This was a golden opportunity to further solidify the reputation of "the Honest Man of Wall Street."

"I understand," Arthur said.

"I will write it."

"Great!" Hearst patted him on the shoulder.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down. Remember, write scathingly, show the reader how ridiculous those who deceive themselves are. That's how you resonate with them."

"I see."

"Go ahead, I'll be waiting to see your masterpiece." Hearst waved his hand.

"By the way, the payment for this piece is forty dollars."

Forty dollars.

Arthur was shocked. This was twice his previous royalties.

"Thank you, Mr. Hearst."

Arthur returned to his workstation, sat down at the brand-new mahogany desk, and fell into deep thought.

"Write President Hoover's statement, write about those who are deceiving themselves..."

A scene suddenly flashed through his mind: Ah Q, a character created by Lu Xun, is a man who is always victorious in spirit.

"If we put Ah Q in Wall Street in 1929..."

Of course, "The True Story of Ah Q" was published in 1921, so I had to revise it.