Chapter 25: The Outside World Changes Because of Me

The next day, Mao Xiaotong went to school with a smile.

And it was from this day on that she finally had her first friend.

Her desk mate, Dou Dou, was a die-hard fan of Fang Xinghe's looks.

Actually, the two of them didn't get along very well; their thoughts and personalities were too different, but what did that matter? As long as they liked Fang Xinghe, all girls in the world were friends.

The reason was very simple, but simple did not necessarily mean incorrect.

Having someone to keep in one's heart was truly a great happiness.

On that same day, Li Qigang shouted to Fang Xinghe: "It's only been published for 24 hours, and the Mengya editorial department's phone has been blown up!"

"Good, I know."

Fang Xinghe replied with a flat tone.

Yes, he had known long ago.

Because since yesterday, the Starlight Value had been skyrocketing; by the time he went to sleep, it had reached 1.7 million.

When he woke up in the morning and checked again, it was 2.85 million.

In one day, he had poured out half of last month's total; the gap between having a work and not having one was truly too great, and the gap between a good work and a perfunctory one was also too great.

The total number of fans also easily surged past 1.4 million and was still growing.

Indeed, gaining fans only required a face, but keeping fans required something even more deeply rooted in people's hearts.

Li Qigang felt a bit stifled by his flatness and immediately announced another piece of good news.

"At least 100,000 copies were sold yesterday; the 500,000 copies we prepared are definitely not enough, and we estimate we'll need a large-scale reprint."

Fang Xinghe was not so optimistic: "The places you can distribute to are quite limited, right? The total audience is only that many; don't let joy turn to sorrow."

The little old man was quite unconvinced: "The places we can distribute to are no fewer than those of 'Zhizyin'!"

"Hehe."

Fang Xinghe laughed with no respect: "'Story Meeting' sells two to three million copies every issue, and 'Zhizyin' stably sells over one million; you can't try to surpass them by overreaching, Editor-in-Chief Li."

Li Qigang was almost stabbed to death by the remark; even if he didn't explode, he turned red with heat, and one could hear him gritting his teeth through the phone.

"That was before! Just this issue, watch how I surpass 'Zhizyin'!"

Oh, so confident; is there some special promotion strategy?

Fang Xinghe felt a moment of curiosity in his heart, but that was all; he was too lazy even to ask.

On matters where he couldn't help or change the situation, he never worried blindly, saving himself from adding to his own troubles.

"Alright, then I wish you success. Is there anything else? I still need to call back Sister Yali."

"You brat! You're the one who wants to be famous, and now you're the one being lazy; I really am..."

"Click! Beep beep beep..."

Hearing the busy tone in the receiver, Li Qigang was angry, bewildered, but also calmed down.

The career has not yet succeeded; reporting good news now is indeed a bit early, so... wait until this matter is handled before boasting!

It was impossible not to show off; he loved chatting with Fang Xinghe so much.

On the other side, Fang Xinghe called Wang Yali back.

"Sister Yali, what's wrong?"

"Nothing? Can't I just chat with you? Congratulations, your work was a huge success! Although it's just an essay, the editors in our publishing house all felt it was particularly incredible after reading it; not a single person didn't praise it..."

She was truly fiery and fast-paced, talkative and dense.

After chatting for a long time, she finally got to the main point: "I have a good friend at Beijing Youth Daily who wants to interview you; can you give her an exclusive interview treatment?"

Fang Xinghe didn't answer but asked instead: "How good of a friend?"

"A very, very good friend, the kind who wore the same skirt when we were little; she generally doesn't accept outside interviews, but this time she made an exception because she's particularly interested in you, so I can guarantee she won't write anything unfavorable to you, nor distort facts or take things out of context. Little Fang, you've become famous too fast; you must have someone trustworthy in the media circle..."

She went on with another long string, but this time the information was particularly valuable.

Even after the internet became mainstream, formal media still possessed the ability to call a deer a horse and turn right into wrong; let alone now.

Developing one's own people in important newspapers was a very, very important move.

"Alright, I accept. How about after the high school entrance exam ends?"

"That works; then you prepare well for the exam, go for it!"

The current social pace was quite slow; influence spreading required time, and Mengya's mere hundreds of thousands in sales were all concentrated among the young, not enough to be a social hot spot, so Wang Yali wasn't in a hurry either.

"Thank you, Sister Yali."

"I just love your sweet mouth, haha!"

After laughing in triumph, Wang Yali cunningly reminded him: "Don't give up on the connections with Xinmin Evening News either; stepping on two major newspapers simultaneously helps maintain balance, so those blind-eyed dogs won't always try to bully you because you're young.

Also, the relationship between Wang Tong and Chen Danya is separated by more than one layer; it's not as intimate as between me and Chunhua. At critical moments, you must know which side to lean toward..."

"Alright, alright, I understand..."

Being nagged by her until he had a headache yet felt moved, Fang Xinghe finally called Chen Danya back.

There were so many judges, many who liked and appreciated him, but only Wang Yali and Chen Danya truly treated him like a nephew and cared for him.

Li Qigang was different; the little old man was a bit utilitarian and a bit naggy, not a bad person, but one couldn't open one's heart to him too much.

Auntie Chen's side was also talking about an interview; Wang Tong wanted to come.

Fang Xinghe was straightforward: "Sister Yali has arranged a Beijing Youth Daily reporter for me, so let them come together then; I don't have time now. Can we set it for after the high school entrance exam?"

"Sure; write two articles from different angles and publish them separately; that will be more beneficial for you."

After a pause, she added: "That unreliable daughter of mine, your young lady, cried terribly after reading your article and even asked me why I didn't bring you home for a meal; the infectious power of your words on young people is even stronger than I initially expected."

"Because the emotion is genuine."

Fang Xinghe naturally accepted the praise; Little Fang was indeed an angry, bitter child, he just didn't know how to express it, and that was exactly what Big Fang was best at.

"Yes, indeed sincere and moving."

Chen Danya kept on praising, then asked: "The fact that you're an orphan is now common knowledge — has the school, or any officials on your side, made any response?"

Fang Xinghe thought for a moment and replied: "Probably they haven't reacted yet. It needs to ferment for a while."

"That's true, officialdom always reacts a bit slower. But your buzz is already up — looking at the momentum, it's even fiercer than Han Han's. From here on, be careful, don't make any big mistakes. The coming stretch is sure to bring plenty of fuss and even criticism — you absolutely have to be mentally prepared…"

"Mm, I understand. Thank you, Auntie Chen."

Fang Xinghe wasn't the sort to brush off advice; he accepted the goodwill in his heart and with his mouth.

After hanging up, he had originally meant to give Zhong Shiye a heads-up too, but on reflection decided there was no need to report such a small result — he'd wait and see.

He let it go in the end and strolled off to school.

……

Compared with the quiet of the great world outside, the middle-school campus had clearly kicked up a storm.

Many people were debating whose article was better, Han Han's or Fang Xinghe's. On their home turf, of course Fang Xinghe won easily — but elsewhere… actually, the same held.

The girls almost unanimously sided with Fang Xinghe. Even though good-bro had posted a photo too, bringing that out for comparison would just be too hurtful — best not.

Even in Han Han's home base, Songjiang No. 2 Middle School, he couldn't manage a fifty-fifty split with Fang Xinghe.

Calling good-bro a temperament-type handsome guy was no exaggeration — but that was all it amounted to.

The words used to praise Fang Xinghe, though, were far more plentiful: "More handsome than Liu Dehua," "Dazzling," "The most handsome young idol since the Four Heavenly Kings," "Peninsula idols pale in comparison," "In all of literary history only this one man rivals Pan An"…

A bit over the top, but compared to the rainbow-farts of later eras it was about that level — many varieties, not enough novelty.

Unexpectedly, no one called him the Chinese Sakuragi Hanamichi.

Maybe because Fang Xinghe had both looks and talent, and couldn't be linked to that kind of airhead persona?

In short, he didn't ride the Slam Dunk traffic, but he single-handedly created the Fang-brand traffic.

Being too handsome had its troubles too — for instance, the boys split sharply: those who admired him were truly steadfast, and those who disliked him were truly resistant.

"Pfft, isn't he just riding a pretty face? On pure writing, he's nowhere near you!"

His good buddy indignately defended Han Han's honor, quickly drawing the support of every roommate in the dorm.

Of course, their support wasn't wholehearted — more likely it came from jealousy: why would that cute girl in our class, who barely gives me the time of day, worship and idolize a total stranger?

Fang-dog, drop dead!

"Exactly, without that face he'd be nothing."

"I read his essay — it was just okay, the writing's rough, nothing to chew on."

"The girls in our class are hilarious."

"Aren't women all shallow? Fang Xinghe is good-looking and knows how to perform — stupid women eat that up."

"Anyway, I don't think he's that amazing. Pretentious, though — that's for real."

Han Han stayed silent, slumped over his desk, poking at scratch paper in idle dabs, his gaze a little blank.

His buddy nudged him a few times and asked in a low voice: "What're you doing?"

"Nothing."

Han Han gave a hard stroke; the ballpoint pen shredded the scratch paper into a mess — looking closely, the whole page was covered with the same four characters: Knowing but Not Succeeding.

The process of imitating "Youth" and "Sex" had not been pleasant. The more he imitated, the more he felt the gap. Han Han had been tormented dizzy these past two months, and on the contrary had gained a deeper grasp of the spirit of Knowing but Not Succeeding.

His buddy glanced at him with a strange look, started to speak, then stopped, and finally left only a sigh.

Your vassals are resolved to fight to the death — why does Your Majesty surrender first?

Fang Xinghe… is he really that amazing?

……

Fang Xinghe wasn't all that amazing, but "Knowing but Not Succeeding" was indeed overpowered.

Only, the impact varied from person to person.

With any piece of writing, the emotional impact it ultimately delivers depends entirely on three factors in the audience: aesthetic level, degree of life-experience resonance, and alignment of values.

Example of aesthetics: "Dream of the Red Chamber."

Example of experience: "Siddhartha."

Example of values: "Tiny Times."

In his article Fang Xinghe sorted young people into categories. One type was the carefree, happy little idiots — low resonance, low alignment — who, reading "Knowing but Not Succeeding," wouldn't feel any especially deep stir, and wouldn't quite get what made him so impressive.

But the kids who had been hurt — high resonance, high alignment — practically worshipped Fang Xinghe as a spiritual mentor; that kind of recognition is hard for outsiders to grasp.

The problem was, the readers who could see the article first were basically urban only children — those truly hurt were few, those moaning without cause were many, and the carefree happy ones were even more.

With the three groups ordered from smallest to largest, Fang Xinghe only reaped the first group's dividends, the middle group's lip-service praise, and the last group's instant forgetting.

Actually this was a good thing — proof that our country's young people aren't living in misery on any large scale.

Fang Xinghe's attitude toward all this was very easygoing — catch as many as he can now; those he can't catch now, he'll get to them gradually later.

"Youth," "The Long Novel," "The Essay Collection" — he had plenty of good cards; full coverage was only a matter of time.

Letting everyone argue it out now was perfect for building buzz and drawing outside attention.

Otherwise, how would he break out of his circle?

The water-army commander, confident in his plan, immersed himself once more in his studies — and the world outside, just as he had predicted, was changing day by day.