I became a music industry godfather by writing confidantes.

Chapter 098 Newspaper

After putting down his phone, Yang Du put on a shirt and prepared to go out to wash up. However, as soon as he opened the door a crack, he heard a melodious voice coming from the living room.

"...On this year's stage, we are delighted to see a group of highly talented and socially responsible young creators. Among them, young musician Yang Du's works 'The Lone Warrior' and 'Today is Your Birthday'..."

Yang Du's mind went blank.

Hearing that official broadcaster-like voice so early in the morning must mean I opened the door wrong.

He subconsciously took half a step back, then closed the door expressionlessly.

He silently counted three in his mind: 1, 2, 3, and then opened the door again.

The sounds coming from the living room continued.

"...He not only broke the mold of traditional narratives, but more importantly, he conveyed genuine feelings and hopes in a way that ordinary people could understand..."

Yang Du finally had to admit a fact: it wasn't that he had acted rashly, but that his elderly father, Yang Zhao, was sitting in the living room reading the newspaper.

The kind that reads out the sound.

My toes silently gripped the slipper.

But for some reason, Yang Du secretly felt a little pleased.

"...This demonstrates the responsibility of young literary and artistic workers in the new era!"

As Yang Zhao read aloud with great emotion, Yang Du wiped his face and walked out as if nothing had happened.

"Hey, Dudu's awake? Come here, come here quickly."

When Yang Du came out, Yang Zhao and Weng Shuying smiled and showed him their spoils.

There was something indescribable about his smile; it was proud, but not entirely proud, and there was also a hint of smugness in it.

Following their gaze, Yang Du noticed a neat stack of newspapers, the Glorious Daily, on the coffee table.

The quantity is wrong; there should be at least thirty or forty portions.

"..."

Yang Du walked over in disbelief, casually flipped through the pages, and found that they were all today's newspapers.

Why do you buy so many newspapers?

"What do you know, you little kid? This is the *Glorious Daily*!" Yang Zhao glared at him. "You're going to collect it, you know?"

In the past, Yang Zhao and Weng Shuying would see Yang Du's achievements on their mobile phones or computers, such as being the champion of the music charts, recording streaming records, or receiving praise from music critics.

They certainly knew in their hearts that their son was very capable, but just how capable he was was always a broad concept, lacking a point of reference.

In the information-exploding internet age, those data points that often amount to millions or tens of millions are just a series of virtual Arabic numerals in the eyes of the two of them. They can see them, but they can't touch them, and there is always some distance between them and reality.

It's like accidentally seeing someone on Weibo win 100 million in the lottery. At most, you might leave a few comments, say something like "awesome" or "absorb some good luck," and that's it. You wouldn't dwell on it.

However, if it's a close friend or neighbor, even if they only win 5 million, which is only 5% of 100 million, the impact and sense of reality are completely incomparable.

That kind of shock is truly enviable. It can cause plasmolysis, loss of appetite, sleepless nights, and endless tales told by relatives and friends for a whole year.

That's what realism is.

Now, for Yang Zhao and Weng Shuying, this "Guanghui Daily" is the medium through which they turn a lottery ticket worth 100 million yuan into 5 million yuan in cash.

The Glorious Daily!

In China, although the Guanghui Daily is not as prestigious as the Renren Daily, it is still a state-run official media outlet and can definitely be ranked among the top three cultural newspapers.

The articles published there are always about national affairs, policies, and international news.

Today, not only did Yang Du's name appear on the list, but he was also praised by the authorities as a young literary and artistic worker.

Even if this report only occupies a tiny space on the entire page, it is still more substantial and impactful than millions of followers and a long list of records and achievements online.

Moreover, this article is quite long!

"Alright, alright," Weng Shuying said with a smile. "Old Yang, hurry up and hang it up. You've been reading it all morning."

Yang Du was stunned for a moment, and was about to ask what to hang, but when he turned his head, he found that Yang Zhao had already framed a copy of the "Glorious Daily" at some point.

"Dad, you're moving way too fast."

Yang Zhao was quite pleased with himself. He took a tissue and wiped the frame until it shone: "Of course, do you expect me to do it myself?"

"What about these? We can't frame them all, can we?"

"Does your dad mean we should keep them all safe, because you never know when they might come in handy?"

Before Yang Du could think about what use it would be, the doorbell rang.

He was about to open the door when Weng Shuying stopped him: "Go brush your teeth and wash your face. It's already ten o'clock and you haven't eaten yet. You can't sleep in tomorrow. The errand boy your dad sent has arrived."

The door opened.

The delivery guy stood at the door, holding a bulging bag in his hand, and handed it to me with a smile.

Yang Du glanced at it from afar, and saw the familiar masthead and text. Well, it was a whole bag of "Guanghui Daily".

He glanced at the bag in Weng Shuying's hand, then looked back at the pile on the coffee table. He counted and realized that there were at least seventy or eighty copies of the Guanghui Daily in this house.

"It's just that it was featured in the Glorious Daily once, isn't that a bit of an exaggeration?" Yang Du's lips twitched slightly.

Moreover, his name was only mentioned in one paragraph; it wasn't a special praise of him.

"It's alright," Weng Shuying said quite naturally. "If your aunt weren't so far away in Haizhongzhou, I would have invited her over for dinner tonight."

Yang Du seized on the key point: "Dinner tonight?"

"Yes," Yang Zhao said. "Your second uncle and his family are coming over for dinner tonight. Aren't you happy? When you were little, you loved pestering your second uncle to buy you sesame brittle."

"..."

As it turns out, Yang Du was still too young.

He thought that Yang Zhao buying seventy or eighty newspapers was the limit, but he clearly underestimated the status of such state-owned media in the minds of the older generation.

That afternoon, when Uncle Yang Jun and his family of three entered the house, they were carrying—

A stack of Glorious Daily newspapers.

"Dudu's doing great, he's even in the newspaper, bringing honor to the family!" Yang Jun patted Yang Du on the shoulder. "When you invite the great-grandfather, you can burn a few more copies of the newspaper so that grandpa, grandma, great-grandpa, and great-grandma can see it properly."

Noticing Yang Du's complicated expression, his second aunt was initially puzzled, but when she saw the framed newspaper on the wall, she couldn't help but laugh. Pointing at the two brothers, Yang Zhao and Yang Jun, she said, "You two are truly brothers; you think alike."

My cousin Yang Ting, a 1.8-meter-tall high school senior, was also amused and said excitedly, "Brother, you don't know, my dad was worried that there wouldn't be enough newspapers, so he went to two newsstands to get that many."

Yang Du took the stack of newspapers with a wry smile, weighed them in his hand, and found they were quite heavy.

Now, the number of "Radiant Daily" newspapers in this family has finally exceeded three digits.