Chapter 43: The Basic Fan Base

Time finally passed the third day amidst the fans' painful ordeal.

Early in the morning, Wan Bao'er ran to the newsstand outside the alley and, like a happy puppy, leaned against the window, wagging her tail frantically.

The owner saw her and smiled just as broadly.

"Little Wan, you're here so early; I've got everything ready for you~~~"

"Thank you, how much do I owe?"

"Twenty-five yuan, four mao, five fen; just give me twenty-five yuan and four mao!"

"Twenty-five! I'll make up the change next time~~~"

Wan Bao'er tossed down the money, hugged the stack of newspapers, and ran back with a clatter, clatter, clatter; once home, she dashed into the living room with another clatter, clatter, clatter, and casually split the newspaper stack into two piles.

"Dad, here's half for you; the rest is mine."

Wan's father looked at the huge pile in front of him with a headache, shook his head, and smiled bitterly: "So much; how can you possibly finish reading it? I only read two copies of yesterday's paper..."

"Anyway, you have plenty of time, so take your time~~~ I don't care; I spent twenty-five yuan and four mao today, so you have to reimburse me!"

Wan's father chuckled: "Take your time reading how the media criticizes him?"

"Annoying!" Wan Bao'er was furious. "You're doing it on purpose to provoke me!"

"Wrong, wrong." Wan's father immediately surrendered, rubbing his forehead with a bitter smile. "Then if you know they're all cursing him, why buy so many? Just buying the Beijing Youth Daily would have been enough, right?"

"I don't care; I just want to stand with him and face it together! Anyway, you have to pay for the newspapers!"

"Fine, fine, fine, pay, pay, pay; here's another fifty yuan; is that enough for tomorrow too?"

Wan's father waited for quite a while but got no response; he turned his head and saw, good heavens, his daughter was already immersed in the Beijing Youth Daily.

"Sigh, a grown daughter is hard to keep..."

Muttering sourly, he simply picked up a newspaper featuring Fang Xinghe and started reading it half-heartedly.

He had no objection to Fang Xinghe, but he wasn't particularly curious either.

Over the years, he had seen countless young talents, prodigies, and demons, but when you stretched the observation period over time... they were all just so-so.

Most of the young people of their generation mostly only respected their elders and had very high standards.

However, the piece "The Universe Is Not Yet Decided" reprinted in the Guangming Daily did pique his interest a bit—whether you like it or not? There's a bit of rogue spirit; that's rare.

Wan's father, who had originally been somewhat careless, found himself involuntarily drawn in as he read on.

It wasn't until his mother called the two of them to eat that Wan Bao'er became lively again, and only then did he suddenly snap out of it.

Oh ho?

This wasn't just a little interesting; besides a purely youthful perspective, Fang Xinghe could actually view things from such a height?

Not easy...

Wan Bao'er was equally enthusiastic and started chattering with her father about it.

"Dad, what kind of person do you think Fang Xinghe is?"

Her mother glared at her: "Fang Xinghe, Fang Xinghe, all you know is Fang Xinghe! Look how arrogant he's gotten; what's the difference between him and those few South Korean sticks?"

"They're an idol boy band that brings people strength through music; how are they sticks?"

After arguing back once, Wan Bao'er suddenly changed her tune: "Forget it; their musical level and Fang Xinghe's literary talent are indeed not on the same level, so sticks it is, but you can't insult my younger brother Xinghe!"

Oh? A change of character?

Wan's mother widened her eyes slightly, feeling it was quite incredible.

"Didn't you used to like that HOT thing the most? You plastered posters all over the walls and wouldn't even allow me to criticize them once."

"When was that?"

Wan Bao'er flatly denied it: "You're slandering me! Those were just posters a good friend gave me; I couldn't hurt her feelings, so I put them up for a while out of politeness; my true heart can only belong to younger brother Xinghe!"

Wan's mother was so angry she opened her mouth to scold again.

In the Wan family, she had always played the role of a strict figure, paying great attention to Wan Bao'er's education and discipline.

But before she could speak, the daughter-spoiling father on her side stopped her.

"Stop, stop, stop; you, you should pay attention to your methods of education in the future; Fang Xinghe's essay is, in a sense, very well written and very correct; Bao'er is a grown young lady now and understands many things; you can reason with her; she will listen to what is right; you can't have only criticism and no encouragement; that's not good."

Wan Bao'er happily hugged her father and stuck her neck out at her mother: "Hmph! See that? People capable of great things have a different breadth of mind!"

Her mother laughed in anger and tapped her little head: "Fine, fine, fine; I have no breadth of mind; all the punishments I gave you before were just to bite you!"

Just from that one sentence, it could be heard that she had actually read Fang Xinghe's "Knowing But Not Obeying" as well.

"That's not true." Seeing the situation was good enough to stop, Wan Bao'er smiled mischievously. "I know you do it for my good; you and Dad have given me a lot of love, but I've also reached the age where I have my own thoughts."

Wan's father laughed and smoothed things over, completely going along with his daughter: "Fang Xinghe's article does indeed have very positive significance for teenagers.

Being overly rebellious is certainly not okay, but not submitting is a very good quality; nothing is more important than a resilient heart.

Fang Xinghe has the backbone of your grandfather's generation; I can understand your admiration for him and am willing to accept it."

The real meaning was actually: I don't understand and won't accept your admiration for those few South Korean sticks.

He had said this many times before, but unfortunately, it didn't work.

Today was different; Wan Bao'er nodded obediently: "Mm, mm, mm, I know! It won't happen again; I promise!"

Wan's mother's eyebrows did not relax; obviously, she still disliked it in her heart.

"But you still can't chase stars, especially Fang Xinghe; his personality is too..."

However, Wan Bao'er was very clever and didn't let her mother finish her sentence; she ran back to the living room with a clatter, clatter, clatter, grabbed the Beijing Youth Daily, ran back, and smiled ingratiatingly: "Dad, Mom, shall I read Fang Xinghe's new article to you?"

The couple exchanged a glance and shook their heads helplessly.

Wan Bao'er didn't wait for their agreement and began to recite "The Small-Town Test-Taker" with great emotion.

The earlier part of this article was mostly about a class perspective.

Namely: how I, born in a poor small town, once viewed the world, and what shocks I received after bravely going out.

From Wudang to Shanghai, first accepting the stillness of the Daoist way, then experiencing the prosperity of the Demon City, and finally returning to the small town, where stillness and prosperity simultaneously took root in the depths of a barren soul; the adolescent restlessness that once found no exit suddenly irrigated a tiny flower.

The emerald branches strained upward, the flowers bloomed vivid and fragrant, while the silent roots drove ever deeper into the dark soil...

The words, no longer brimming with malice, were filled with suggestive imagery.

Fang Xinghe did not write out any possibilities directly, yet the three symbols of branch, flower, and root, and the dynamic changes they spawned, were enough to let anyone imagine any possibility.

Are the branches the vitality of youth?

Are the flowers the blossoming of effort?

Is the silent root the true heart?

It can be, but not necessarily only that, and it might even not be.

Fang Xinghe's words were no longer as explicit and fierce as in "Knowing but Not Obeying"; his desire to leave the small town was intense, yet the ending he ultimately pointed to was not about becoming stronger, smashing something, or achieving glory, but rather a somewhat illusory "being true to oneself, clarifying the true heart."

On the surface, it looked neither fierce nor cool, yet in the final sentence "I choose to do the problems," it sublimated into extreme firmness.

Wan Bao'er saw the mountain as a mountain, feeling only a vigorous upward spirit.

Wan's mother saw the elders walking barefoot out of the mountains, carrying their heads in blood, with the most tenacious will to grow, finally blooming their lives into brilliant red flowers.

And from Wan's father's perspective, the associations were even more numerous and higher...

From having nothing to flowers blooming in wealth and honor, yet the flowers attract bees and butterflies, the branches are overburdened, the rooted soil is barren and urgently needs irrigation, and the root system itself has some...

Of course, none of them had experienced the layer of stillness in Daoism.

The stillness of the root, and the motion of life, opposed yet unified.

Unless one has experienced great enlightenment between life and death, it is hard to comprehend that contradictory philosophy of quietly lying dormant in darkness, yet desperately drawing sustenance in barrenness.

Life and death, yang and yin, motion and stillness; the essence is too metaphysical, only to be understood intuitively, truly difficult to express.

And when Wan Bao'er finally read that lyrical passage which sublimated the theme, the couple, immersed in thought, were stabbed in the chest without any defense, shivering from head to toe, a thrill running from the soles of their feet to the crown of their heads.

"Everyone's ultimate mission is to find oneself, then sincerely be true to oneself. We do not seek to flee this native land, but need to set out, to see different landscapes, to temper the soul with a broader world, to change from hating everything to loving everything, from despising everything to respecting everything, and finally to happily discover—that this world is not the shape I imagined in my youth, yet I still love it."

Until Wan Bao'er's voice faded, Wan's mother still felt it was incredible.

"Did Fang Xinghe really write this?"

"Yes! Otherwise what?"

"Good!" Wan's father involuntarily raised his voice, "It writes with height, and it writes with weight, amazing!"

A strong sense of melancholy suddenly arose in Wan's mother's heart; she gazed blankly out the window: "We are also about to leave this native land, but we are not fleeing, we are just... anyway, it is truly hard to part..."

The Wan family had already decided to move to Hong Kong Island and send Wan Bao'er abroad for studies.

Regardless of the reason, leaving the hometown where one was born and raised, carrying decades of heavy memories, inevitably brings sorrow and inevitably brings anxiety.

At this moment, hearing such sentences, truly a mix of emotions, arising from the heart.

This is high-frequency resonance, and also timely, perfectly matching the meaning.

What might sound like empty exposition to others, to the right person is the finishing touch.

"Indeed a very good article; Fang Xinghe's spiritual world is vast, and also beautiful."

In an instant, Wan's mother's view of Fang Xinghe shifted from negative to positive, her favorability skyrocketing to a very high position.

To be understood, to be touched, to be soothed by words, is truly a rare happiness and fullness.

Compared to that, wanting to break a father's leg or scolding media people as scum, in the eyes of someone at her level, actually doesn't count as anything.

She decisively changed her tune, her attitude turning 180 degrees.

"Little Fang, aside from being slightly radical, indeed has spirit in his bones; your generation are all little ancestors and big treasures, having never suffered any hardship, each one pampered and spoiled, particularly unreasonable; since you like him, you must learn more from him, and stop being so aimless..."

"Wow!"

Wan Bao'er exclaimed: "Rare to see you praise anyone! Then the two of us are on the same side! Come, follow me, join the great Fang-fan organization!"

Question marks appeared above Wan's father's and Wan's mother's heads.

Fang-fan? Organization?

What on earth is this?!

Tianjin, on the way to the dance class, Mao Xiaotong bought a copy of the Beijing Youth Daily from a newsstand.

Too late to read carefully, she just flipped through it roughly, saw that page 13 was entirely Fang Xinghe's new article, and that on the color page of page 12 there was a new photo of him, and immediately was overjoyed.

"Haha, great!"

Mao Xiaotong was extremely satisfied with today's newspaper, holding it carefully in her arms, and happily went to the practice room.

Arriving at the class, two girls who were chatting saw the newspaper in her hand, "Wow!" and surrounded her: "Xiaotong, you bought the Beijing Youth Daily too? Do you want the color page in the middle?"

Mao Xiaotong instantly bristled, shielding the newspaper behind her back: "Of course I want it! What do you want to do?"

"Nothing, nothing we want to do..."

One of the classmates was frightened by her, pouting, muttering weakly: "If you won't give it, just don't, why get so angry..."

The other's eyes lit up, asking excitedly: "You like Fang Xinghe too? Right? Oh, then we are fellow Fang-fans!"

"Fang-fan?" Mao Xiaotong was stunned.

Liu Jingjing nodded frantically: "Yes, yes, Fang Xinghe's fans, abbreviated as Fang-fan on Tianya!"

"Tianya? Fans?" The underachiever didn't understand, didn't get it at all.

"It's Fans, F, A, N, S, an English word, meaning ardent admirers, a guardian group for a certain idol!"

Liu Jingjing was extremely proud, as if announcing a huge matter.

But Mao Xiaotong was indeed very interested, murmuring it several times, the more she said it, the better it sounded.

"Fang-fan? Of course I am. I liked him since May."

"Then I even earlier!" Another girl, Wang Yutang, leaned over and proudly announced, "I started liking him from the April cover of Mengya!"

Mao Xiaotong felt a bit uncomfortable in her heart, snorted: "Back then his first article hadn't even been published; what did you like about him?"

"Handsome! He's so handsome I faint!"

Wang Yutang was so calm that it left Mao Xiaotong speechless.

Girls of this era... no, girls of any era, all like handsome stars.

You ask them to appreciate Wang Baoqiang's great performance in "Mr. Tree," and that is purely asking the impossible, but ask them which star is handsome, and they immediately recite the list like counting family treasures.

There is no need to blame them for this; 99% of young girls have gone through this stage. The Zhu Shimao of the past, the Tang Guoqiang of even earlier times, and even tracing all the way back to Pan An, were all the dream lovers of a generation of young girls.

However, Mao Xiaotong is one of those extremely rare exceptions.

At first, she did not like that face; she had a natural wariness of men who were too handsome, until she drew immense courage and strength from "Knowing but Not Obeying," only then did she begin to worship Fang Xinghe more fanatically than anyone else.

So, seeing Liu Jingjing and Wang Yutang only like Fang Xinghe for his handsomeness, she felt indignant.

"Handsome is just Fang Xinghe's most insignificant virtue; you should focus on his talent!"

"I do focus on it! I read every issue of the Beijing Youth News."

"Then where is your newspaper?"

"I put it back at the newsstand after reading it!"

"Ah?!"

"The previous issues didn't have any photos of Fang Xinghe, so why should I buy them? Because I like Fang Xinghe, my mom won't even give me pocket money anymore; I need to save my remaining small treasury to buy Fang Xinghe's first book."

Wang Yutang's confident and well-reasoned reply completely baffled Mao Xiaotong.

She realized that her worship of Fang Xinghe seemed to be on another level—she not only bought the Beijing Youth News but also planned to go elsewhere to collect all newspapers and periodicals featuring lectures by Fang Xinghe.

But what interested her even more was that book.

"Where did you get the intel? Fang Xinghe is going to publish a book?"

"It was said in the Xinmin Evening News!" Liu Jingjing quickly answered, "That report mentioned that Fang Xinghe is writing his first major long novel; it's a novel!"

Wang Yutang added: "And also, the Xinmin News has already arranged a new exclusive interview with Fang Xinghe!"

Mao Xiaotong kept both of these matters in her heart and made up her mind to start saving money hard from now on.

She cannot lose to Wang Yutang, absolutely not!

Wang Yutang, Wan Bao'er, and Mao Xiaotong each represent three classic types of Fang fans.

The first type: because their parents dislike Fang Xinghe, their liking is not accepted by their elders, so they can only hide it in the shadows.

This situation is probably the mainstream, because Little Fang's current reputation... hee hee hee!

But the problem isn't big; even if it's bad, it can't be worse than HOT, right?

Uh, actually, that's hard to say...

The second type: catalyzed by his works, their worship of Fang Xinghe finally receives their parents' tacit approval, or even support.

Many parents suddenly realized that, in fact, aside from being a bit wild in personality, Fang Xinghe is truly outstanding in other aspects.

Not only are those three interview articles talked about with great interest, but "The Small-Town Exam Taker" also combines aesthetic beauty and righteousness.

It is understandable that children like Fang Xinghe, and it is not necessarily a bad thing.

Thus, the behavior of chasing the star Fang Xinghe became legalized in some families, and many Fang fans consequently gained a relaxed space to openly declare their love.

Some open-minded parents are even willing to discuss Fang Xinghe's works and character in detail with their children.

This greatly expanded the total number of fans of idol Little Fang and enriched his fan composition.

Although that portion of middle-aged parents generally only has a superficial fondness and is hard to upgrade further, their value originally did not lie in providing Starlight Points.

The meaning of their existence is to provide economic support for young Fang fans, raising the overall consumption power of Fang fans by several times.

At this point, Fang Xinghe finally possessed the capital to publish a book independently and have it sell well.

The third type of Fang fan is represented by Mao Xiaotong.

They did not receive family support because they are all children who have been hurt, hiding their thoughts and rarely speaking to others.

They worship Fang Xinghe independently and stubbornly; they may be financially constrained, but their will is unshakably firm.

Almost all of Fang Xinghe's existing fanatic fans come from this group.

For the same article or report, a level-one superficial fan provides only 1 Starlight Point, but they can provide as many as 15 to 50 points.

In addition, they are also the most solid fortress when giant waves crash down.

If the iron wall does not break, then no matter what blows Fang Xinghe suffers, there will always be a chance to make a comeback.

The first type of looks-based fans and the middle-aged superficial fans are the same; their attributes of being fence-sitters, acting on impulse, and being unable to withstand pressure are too strong. Their vast numbers are like blooming flowers, which could be scattered by a strong wind at any moment.

Only when the latter two types of fans merge into one can they truly and solidly establish a base for Fang Xinghe, allowing him to stand firm in the wind and waves and fish in peace.

Even if a shark is hooked, they must tear at each other a couple of times to know who is at the top of the food chain.

So, a mere negative black tide that is still on the way... let us try it and see.