madnovel Chapter 5 Who Killed the Mockingbird?
Chapter 5 Who Killed the Mockingbird?
In the studio, Da Peng sat in front of the camera, his signature playful smile gone.
He looked at the main manuscript written by Ren Pingsheng and read it aloud word by word: "Just a few hours ago, the pop music scene lost its king, and we lost an era..."
He worked on "Deba De" for two years and met countless content masters, but no one could write so captivatingly.
Without flowery language or sentimental parallelism, it simply lays out the facts in a straightforward manner, yet it can make your heart tighten and make you want to keep reading.
"Wait a minute," Ren Pingsheng, who was at the control room, suddenly spoke up, pointing to a sentence on the script, "Add this sentence: As of now, AEG Group has not made any response regarding MJ's health condition before his death."
Da Peng was taken aback: "Why add this? They definitely won't respond."
"That's exactly what we want them to do," Ren Pingsheng said calmly, raising his eyes. "Silence is the best answer. The audience will fill in all the conspiracies themselves."
Looking into his calm eyes, Da Peng's heart skipped a beat.
He suddenly felt that the usually taciturn intern in front of him was like a seasoned hunter who had set a trap and was just waiting for his prey to jump in.
Ren Pingsheng also oversaw the later stages of the project.
"Move this rehearsal footage forward three seconds, make a curve and change speed to show MJ's long-sleeved jacket, and then start Maurice's interview."
"Don't add a transition here, cut it abruptly."
Xiao Lin handed over the organized materials, and Ren Pingsheng picked out three to put into the extended reading section at the end of the film.
Sister Zhao is working with the graphic designer to create graphic and text features, while Ren Pingsheng's videos are on two separate lines. The graphic and text features are used to drive traffic to the homepage of search engines, while the videos are designed to be more in-depth and retain viewers.
Old Zhou's side has also made progress. He has arranged to interview two musicians with experience working in North America. The phone interviews have been recorded, and the materials are being exported.
Alex stayed in his office all afternoon and didn't come out once.
It was exactly 8 p.m.
The top banner on the Sohu homepage has been officially changed to a special feature on MJ's passing.
Ren Pingsheng was still sitting at his workstation, staring at the data refresh in the background.
The headline is strikingly eye-catching: [The Giant Crushed by Fifty Concerts.]
The special feature received over 100,000 clicks as soon as it went online.
Xiaolin stared at the backend data, his eyes widening.
Old Zhou's phone kept ringing, all calls asking for news.
Ren Pingsheng glanced at the backstage area and nodded slightly: "Alright, that's enough for today."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and packed their things to leave one after another.
One by one, the lights in the office area went out, until only Ren Pingsheng and Dapeng remained.
Dapeng swaggered over with a cup of soy milk, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, and offered one to Ren Pingsheng: "Want one?"
Ren Pingsheng took it and lit it.
The smoke slowly dissipated in the dim light. Neither of them spoke; they simply smoked quietly.
Da Peng spoke first, flicking his cigarette ash and saying casually, "I owe you a lot for today's matter."
Ren Pingsheng didn't reply, still focused on blowing smoke rings.
Dapeng wasn't in a hurry and continued talking to himself.
"I've been with Sohu for almost five years and have seen all sorts of returnees from prestigious universities and people who jumped ship from big companies, but I've never seen anyone handle news as skillfully as you. Others chase after trending topics, but you dig up the trending topics three months in advance."
"I was lucky," Ren Pingsheng said.
"Come on," Da Peng put the soy milk on the table and leaned forward. "Seriously, do you have some inside information? I know several reporters who specialize in covering European and American entertainment, but none of them are as well-informed as you."
Ren Pingsheng knew this problem would come sooner or later.
Ever since he started waiting for that news in the break room this morning, this question has been on the lips of every colleague.
It's just that others dare not ask, but Dapeng does.
"Brother Peng..."
Ren Pingsheng turned his chair around to face Dapeng.
"There aren't that many inside stories in this world. All there is is the ledger of capital. Once you understand the accounts, you'll see through human life."
"A 50-year-old patient with long-term drug dependence was forced to hold 50 concerts in a row, singing and dancing all at once—no wonder something went wrong!"
Dapeng stared at him for a few seconds, then laughed.
"Regardless, you've made a name for yourself this time. What are your plans for the future?"
This is the real focus tonight, Ren Pingsheng knew it perfectly well.
"I haven't decided yet, I'll just take it one step at a time."
Da Peng nodded and didn't ask any further questions.
"Okay, then go home early and don't stay up too late."
He patted Ren Pingsheng on the shoulder, took a few steps, then turned back, as if remembering something.
"Oh, by the way, the soy milk is for you."
The footsteps faded into the distance.
Ren Pingsheng picked up the soy milk on the table and took a sip.
It was sweet; Da Peng remembered that he drank sweet soy milk.
This is Dapeng.
On the surface, he seems carefree and easygoing, but in reality, he is more thoughtful than anyone else.
But if you think this is just concern between friends, you're being naive.
Da Peng's mind was no longer on Souhu.
"Deba De" has been running for almost two years, and its viewership has long since peaked.
Sohu is now allocating more and more resources to its newly launched high-definition video channel, and is giving less and less resources to talk shows.
Da Peng knew in his heart that if he stayed at Sohu, he would at best be a mediocre host, and would never have a chance to get ahead.
A person who was saving up for leaving the company came to confide in a troublemaker who had offended the company's leadership.
Soy milk is sweet, but that doesn't necessarily mean it.
Ren Pingsheng's lips curled up. Da Peng was using him as a bargaining chip, trying to drag him along.
But he can't leave now; he has his own bargaining chips to accumulate.
He hasn't even used up all of Sohu's resources yet, and he's going to make the most of this bloodshed.
Open your browser and log in to Tianya.
The post has gone viral.
"Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! I don't know what else to say!"
"The prophet has opened his third eye and is killing people! OP, come out and accept my bow!"
"Where's that 'California Sunshine Bro' guy? Come out and show your face! Didn't he say the original poster was spreading rumors?"
……
Ren Pingsheng closed Tianya and switched to several other video websites.
Even the terrible internet in 2009 couldn't stop the surging tide of netizens.
The video titled "The Greatest Scam of the Century: Is the Comeback King Still a Lamb to the Slaughter?" has already surpassed three million views.
Countless people left comments below urging for more updates.
They were eager to know what else this account, which seemed to have supernatural abilities, knew.
Emotions have reached a breaking point.
Fear, curiosity, anger, and thirst for knowledge—all the fuel for the fire has been laid.
This is the momentum that Ren Pingsheng was waiting for.
Insert the USB drive and drag out the pre-cut next episode.
In the video, Ren Pingsheng discusses everything from the copyright held by MJ to the smear campaign and prejudgment against him by mainstream media in recent years.
The entire story revolves around that key logical chain: whoever benefited from MJ's death is the prime suspect.
At the end of the video, there was a full three seconds of black screen before a line of white text slowly appeared.
"When a person's death is more valuable than their life, all coincidences cease to be coincidences."
Click to upload.
Ren Pingsheng stared calmly at the scrolling progress bar.
Criticism is not the goal; traffic is.
Next, let's see how badly this fire will burn the internet.