Flushing, inside the office.
Wang Jian sat in his chair, silently staring at the newspaper lost in thought.
Sure enough, as he had expected, that last group photo made the front page headlines of major newspapers across the United States.
Luckily, the actress ryl Streep, with her experience, had worn nude-colored sportswear underneath her outfit before the four ladies took the stage.
Otherwise, the newspapers all over Arica today would have all damn been rated eighteen-plus!
"Despite attempts by conservatives to undermine it, this feminist rally has been the most successful in recent years." — The New York Tis.
"This rally for won’s rights, initiated by First Lady Hillary and reaching its peak after a speech by the famous bestselling author, will surely go down in history as a landmark in the feminist movent." — Wall Street Post.
"One lady knocking down a saboteur and public figures stripping on stage to make a statent were the two most morable scenes of the rally.
They represent the attitude of ordinary won and public figures towards the won’s rights movent, respectively." — Philadelphia Proverbs.
"Mrs. Hillary, Princess Diana, Ms. ryl Streep, and Mr. Wang Jian, we salute you with the highest respect.
You have demonstrated your support for the feminist movent through your actions." — Ladies.
Wang Jian watched on TV an image of Lily kicking over a muscular black man.
Then he looked at the photo given to him by the White House’s official photographer.
Although being photographed with celebrities could raise one’s stature,
Such a photo...
He simply couldn’t place it on the desk.
"I’m really envious of Lily!"
At this mont, a knock on the door sounded, and Tom walked in.
Upon seeing Wang Jian, Tom almost couldn’t suppress a smile on his face.
It wasn’t until Wang Jian’s gaze glared over that Tom made an effort to control his expression.
"Wang, it was all worth it, " he said, passing over a docunt.
"The number of paid subscribers to the website has surged."
"In addition to female-oriented works like ’Harem Boleyn’ and ’Female Pope,’ even male-oriented works have seen the sa trend."
Wang Jian massaged his temples and took the docunt.
A few minutes later, he looked at Tom sowhat astonished.
"Is this data accurate?"
"Of course," Tom replied without hesitation.
Doesn’t that an that this one strip increased his inco by more than 1 million US dollars?
That’s almost the price of a relatively cheap villa in the Upper West Side.
"There’s even better news." Tom’s smile grew even brighter, "After trading began today, Twitter experienced explosive growth."
Then, he said jokingly, "Wang, strip a few more tis, and you might find yourself on the Forbes rankings."
...
New York City Hall, inside the office.
Mayor Giuliani sipped his coffee while clicking on his computer screen.
"So, this is the novel accused of ’religious discrimination’ against African-Aricans?"
"Yes," his aide nodded and replied respectfully, "but there’s a high likelihood that this incident is being manipulated by external forces."
Giuliani nearly laughed out loud thinking about the video he had just seen.
The predominantly Democrat African-Arican and feminist groups had actually started fighting each other.
The scene was like African-Aricans in the Los Angeles riots clashing with housewives and soon-to-be-brides during Christmas sale season and discount bridal dress events.
Giuliani looked at his aide, "What about the organizers behind the scenes? Did you get any African-Arican stars to speak out?"
"Spike Lee and so rappers love to raise allegations of racism over such matters, don’t they?"
"A Democrat probably coordinated it, given it involves the Clintons," the aide paused, his expression a mixture of amusent and dismay.
"The key point is, their confrontation is with won, not the police."
"These African-Arican stars can’t very well complain of racism just because they got beaten by a woman, can they?"
Hearing this, Giuliani felt a bit ambivalent.
He never thought there would co a day when he would find African-Aricans too weak at causing trouble.
"These nigg~"
Giuliani caught himself and hastily stopped, pretending to reflect.
"We can’t just let this go," he pointed to the computer, instructing his aide, "Recomnd this ’Female Pope’ novel to so friends living in Boston."
"Boston is mostly populated by Italian and French immigrants with a strong Catholic presence."
"Moreover, they hold the title of the Arican Catholic Church and have the closest ties to the Vatican."
Looking at his note-taking aide, Giuliani thought for a mont and continued, "Of course, to show New York City’s support for the feminist movent, we also need to take a stance."
"That lady who appeared on TV, nad Lily Rush, she’s a check-in officer, right?"
"Yes," the assistant confird after checking the information.
"Then..." Giuliani rose to his feet, patted his capable aide, "give her a promotion and a raise, and increase her exposure."
"Understood," his assistant closed the notebook and respectfully turned to leave.
...
At that mont, a black man with a head full of dirty dreadlocks had just walked out of a luxurious villa.
Although he appeared sowhat subservient to a dia conglorate like BET, among street-connected rappers his street moniker still held so sway.
"How is it, boss? Will Dr. Dre make a statent in support?"
The dreadlocked man pulled out a cigarette, took a deep drag.
"These guys who ca from N.W.A never belonged to us in New York, they belong to Los Angeles!"
"What’s the big deal about hitting a woman? Hasn’t 2pac hit won, or hasn’t Dr. Dre?"
"Haven’t they both been to jail for that reason?"
"He doesn’t agree to speak out?" The subordinate looked at the dreadlocked man, pondered for a mont, and made a suggestion.
"We should still approach BET, after all, they are the ones pulling the strings."
The dreadlocked man rembered his forr boss, who had been shot on the street because of an unpleasant cooperation with BET.
He quickly shook his head, "This was our mistake, not theirs."
"And what about our brothers? If we don’t bail them out, other gangs simply won’t respect us."
The dreadlocked man fretted and ssily rubbed his increasingly disordered hair, "How much would it cost to bail them all out?"
"Eh, the lawyer said there are too many people." The subordinate glanced at the boss covertly, "To bail them all out, you’ll need at least 300,000 US dollars."
300,000 US dollars?
The dreadlocked man looked at the few stolen broken cars and the dwindling stash of goods.
Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.
"That Asian bestselling author’s friend, doesn’t he live in the Bronx?"
"It seems... he does."
"The nigger’s na is El."
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