Chapter 55

The logic for not panicking is simple.

First, this little bit of shit can't nail Fang Xinghe down; being smeared is just what he's asking for.

Second, the new book will sell even better.

Third, multi-channel monetization will indeed be affected, so just don't earn it; Brother isn't in a hurry.

Fourth, the superficial fans might have problems, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Fifth, the "cyberbullying" that could theoretically destroy any 14-year-old boy can't hit a water army leader who has died once. Brother doesn't care, but the fans will definitely be heartbroken.

Sixth, he can retain at least two channels for speaking out; he can still scold whoever he wants, and scold them dirtier and more satisfyingly.

So even if the Southern clique gets his dirt, it's really just that.

It's not that there's no impact at all, but he can withstand it.

But he still replied very solemnly: "I know, thank you, Sister Chunhua."

"Don't rush to thank me. I'll contact the news department director of the Capital Satellite TV immediately. He wanted that interview recording from me before. Also, you can try to let Yali ask CCTV. You definitely don't need to count on the news, but there are a few programs that might not be impossible..."

Zhao Chunhua gave him some earnest advice and immediately went to handle things in a flurry.

She and Wang Yali were really similar; they both had that straightforward, enthusiastic, and generous nature of Beijing girls.

Although Fang Xinghe didn't think much of her solution, a warmth welled up in his heart.

As for why he didn't think much of it...

Isn't it obvious?

In this current era, no power can stop the wave after wave of long-term smearing by capital-backed media.

Public intellectuals of the future: small fry who fart on half-dead platforms like Weibo, or "run-dogs" living abroad picking up trash.

Public intellectuals of the present: reporters, editors, writers' association members, university professors, economists, sociologists, freelance writers in all walks of life, celebrity directors, Qingbei-Fujiao graduates...

Version T0, I'm not kidding.

So, once they attack someone in a group, it's real trouble.

Only the stamp of approval from something at the level of the News Broadcast or Focus Interview can have any effect; other methods of clarification really aren't enough to counter their smearing.

Moreover, whether the so-called "other methods of clarification" are friends or foes, and which side they lean towards, is also unknown.

Can only wait and see.

Half an hour later, Zhao Chunhua called back, furious.

"The Capital Station is willing to arrange an exclusive interview for you, but you need to come to the Imperial Capital. They choose the topic, they set the time, and you must cooperate unconditionally, with no autonomy whatsoever..."

"That's impossible." Fang Xinghe refused flatly without even thinking.

A serious studio television program is not the same nature as that exclusive interview with Zhao Chunhua.

Going to a TV station to do a program, autonomy is the most important thing.

Without autonomy, they can interrogate you however they want, edit it however they want, without discussing it with you at all.

What kind of shit the final product turns out to be is something a normal person could never imagine.

The number of artists who were screwed over by Mango TV's malicious editing and came to Fang Xinghe wanting to buy clarification marketing is not one or two, it's a whole fucking nest!

Fang Xinghe would rather not be on TV than accept being manipulated like this.

"I knew you wouldn't accept."

Zhao Chunhua sighed and worried: "Director Luo was very enthusiastic before, but now... I feel he doesn't want to do reading topics anymore; it's very likely he's aiming to dig up a big news story."

Great, as expected, they are foes, not friends.

But Fang Xinghe remained very calm: "Who leaked the news to him? Reporters just arrived at my place, how did you guys at the Capital Station vaguely get the news? This transmission efficiency isn't right."

"Oh! That's right!"

A slap sound came from Zhao Chunhua's side, and he didn't know what she had slapped so loudly.

"You wait, I'll call Yali to go ask around together!"

This time it was even faster. In less than 10 minutes, she replied again, her voice becoming nervous: "Found out. The reporter who went to interview you is from the Southern Metropolis Beijing bureau. The source of the news is Xinhua reporter Yang Xiao, and the one who leaked it to Old Luo is most likely People's Daily editor Jiang Yaping..."

Fang Xinghe was stunned. How did these people get together?

Zhao Chunhua's worried voice continued to come through the receiver.

"It's trouble now! Many media outlets are waiting for the interview results, the wind has spread... why are so many people idle and spending so much effort to mess with you? Are they sick!"

This is no longer just the level of wanting to eat human blood buns, but a major move to not stop until Fang Xinghe is ruined.

She couldn't figure it out.

But Fang Xinghe slowly figured it out.

There is no mention or distinction of the "Nanfang" system in the country yet, but in reality, they have long existed.

According to later public information, the "help" from international foundations to the domestic cultural circle already had a large scale in the early 90s.

More doesn't need to be mentioned. Just looking at the Nanfang system, this is actually not a fixed group divided by region, but a kind of... attribute derived from Southern Media Group.

In Fang Xinghe's era, their entire group was abandoned by their masters, information was fully disclosed, and netizens discovered that many unrelated people were receiving the same salary.

So it's really not strange that they huddled together in secret; they're all good buddies.

What really makes Fang Xinghe feel disgusted is that now, right now, at this moment, these people actually represent the forces of progress.

I really want to fuck their whole family...

Of course, I have to let the "crotch-grabber" do it.

Actually, Zhao Chunhua wasn't unaware of how difficult the Nanfang system is, but she always thought that although Fang Xinghe is rebellious, he is still "one of our own" in the cultural circle.

The cultural circle includes the literary circle, and his articles are written so well, how can he not be?

Fine, let's say he is.

But she clearly underestimated the Nanfang system's desire to kill Fang Xinghe, because they are both rebellious, but Han Han's anger is directed at the environment, while Fang Xinghe's anger is directed at them. Who to support is self-evident.

A more important question derived from this is...

Fang Xinghe is in the way.

Nanfang has always tried to support a group of progressive new youths who possess "leading power," share their "interests," and can become idols for teenagers.

They put in a lot of effort and hold major evaluations whenever they have the chance.

They have indeed promoted many truly positive figures, but only those whose thoughts are biased towards the West can get beyond-specification hype.

From the initial "50 Great Public Intellectuals Influencing China," to "Top Ten Youth Leaders," to "Annual China Youth Leaders," how many disgusting things were pushed out in the middle?

Look at the list, good heavens, it's an eyesore.

Who exactly did Lu Taijun, who filmed "City of Life and Death," lead?

Who exactly did Zhang Ziyi, who was chatting naked on a beach abroad, move?

Who exactly did Gao Xiaojin, who crazily touted how awesome foreign countries are, influence?

The young Han Han perfectly met Nanfang's requirements, so from the moment he debuted, the related hype and momentum-building never stopped.

However, the situation in this life is a bit different.

With Fang Xinghe blocking the way, who would look at the Han Han behind him?

It's not that Han Han isn't strong, it's that Fang Xinghe is too far out of the syllabus.

When there was no chance, they could only pinch their noses and endure it. Now that they have finally found an opportunity, they naturally use as much strength as they can.

Anyway, consuming Fang Xinghe has sales and heat, so let's make it big!

Thus, not only was Zhao Chunhua at a loss, but Wang Yali was also rarely panicked.

She took the initiative to call: "Xinghe, I'm afraid that matter of yours can't be suppressed. Many media outlets are reserving space, waiting for the interview results. I promised to help you smooth it over, it seems I bragged too much..."

"It's fine, I have a plan."

Fang Xinghe comforted her calmly, his steady voice making Wang Yali relax: "You've thought of a way?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me, I won't lose."

Wang Yali let out a long sigh of relief: "Alright, then Chunhua and I will discuss it again to see how we can help."

Fang Xinghe didn't try to persuade her again. Whatever, anyway, no matter how they mess around, they can't win.

Yes, he won't lose, but he won't win either.

It's not just because most of the channels for speaking out are in the hands of the other side, nor is it just because most people good at speaking out stand on their side, the most important core logic is... they have no shame.

For example, spreading rumors, a group of people swarming up, blackening you until you stink.

You clearly have evidence, but there's nowhere to post it.

You finally found a place to post it, but it was quickly annihilated by the other side's wolf-pack tactics.

You clarified persistently and were finally seen by readers, but in fact, readers don't want to see the truth, it's not fun or exciting, so rumors are still everywhere.

You just want an apology, but unfortunately, they are best at pretending not to see.

You pick up the weapon of law and sue in court, but unfortunately, it's still useless.

At the very end...

"Okay, sorry, I made a mistake."

They wave their hands impatiently, leave an apology, then turn and walk out the door, turning their gaze to the next victim, forgetting you completely like trash.

Your value ends here; you are not worthy of consuming their time anymore, not worthy of being scolded, not even worthy of a straight look.

And after they go back, they can still continue to enjoy the cheers and adulation of that group of fixed audiences.

You won, but are you happy?

Anyway, Fang Xinghe feels very unhappy just thinking about it.

As a high-level water army leader in the age of entertainment to death, he knows too well how that public intellectual hooligan tactic works.

To tell the truth, against these bastards, no one can win.

No cheat is useful, because the bottom-level logic is—a large group of audiences believes in them, believes that the air outside is sweet, and believes that their own poor performance is because our family is not good enough.

Even if you kill all the public intellectuals, the new batch of people will still please the audience for economic interests.

Once the audience is coaxed into being happy, they will still believe their rumors.

This problem wasn't completely solved even by 2030, because if one ten-thousandth of the 1.4 billion population are idiots, anyone will be helpless.

The "idols" don't take money from outside; just relying on the idiots in the country is enough to achieve financial freedom.

It will only be more tragic now. Fang Xinghe uses his head to fight against hundreds of millions of public intellectual believers?

One spit from each person would be enough to drown him.

So he can only become more of a hooligan—don't care about readers, don't care about reputation, just keep hammering the leader until the end.

Winning or not is one thing, but whether he can hurt them is another.

This situation ultimately depends on mentality. Whoever has a stronger mentality, whoever doesn't care about being scolded, whoever can be tough to the end, whoever is invincible.

And, why should Brother play in your framework?

You decide how to fight, but I decide when to start and when to end!

Fang Xinghe took out his phone and dialed the pager number of Brother Long—the hoodlum he chatted with in the bathhouse.

Coincidentally, he was almost pinned down by those two "spirit sisters" just now, and turned around to find the Brother Long they mentioned. Fate, truly wonderful.

Let the paging station send a message: I am Fang Xinghe, please call back if you have something.

In less than 3 minutes, the phone rang. After connecting, Xiao Long's panting and excited voice came from the other side.

"Young Master Fang, it's me, Xiao Long! What's up? You looking for me?"

"Brother Long..."

"No, no, no, call me Xiao Long! Just Xiao Long! In front of you, what brother? Am I worthy?!"

Xiao Long isn't very good at talking, but he's clear-headed.

He not only puts his posture low enough, but he also truly hopes to be able to help Fang Xinghe.

That kind of pride in hometown sentiment where you can pat your chest and say "Fang Xinghe is my fellow villager, we always soak in the same bathhouse" when doing business in other places is already rare thirty years later, but it is simple and pure at this time.

"Just say the word if you have something. I'll do what I can immediately, and for what I can't, I'll find a way to do it!"

Fang Xinghe didn't stand on ceremony anymore and ordered: "Help me dig up two people, reporters from the capital, from the Southern Metropolis Daily. They might go to interview my uncle today. You know where he lives, right?"

"Know, know! That area at the end of Station Front Street!"

Xiao Long was extremely excited, asking while screaming: "I know all the hotels there! After digging them out, what then? Do you need me to find two little sisters to give them a 'honey trap'? This trick is super effective against these outsiders with proper units!"

Ha!

Fang Xinghe was almost amused by him. This guy is really interesting and has ideas.

But...

"No need, just notify me to go over after finding them, don't touch them."

"Oh..."

Xiao Long's voice was full of regret, but this didn't affect his active work at all.

"Then Young Master Fang, wait for my good news. If it's fast, I'll get it done in half an hour!"

"Good, I owe you one."

Fang Xinghe, who had only socialized on the internet, handled this kind of thing with ease—little Fang's nature is naturally cosmopolitan, and Fang has been dealing with the entertainment industry for years. Putting them together, he is truly a natural "boss" holy body.

He didn't mention the reward, but the phrase "I owe you one" immediately filled Xiao Long with adrenaline.

This guy threw the phone away, and amidst the angry cursing of the boss, he ran back to the small shop where he was drinking, raised his arms and shouted: "Stop fucking drinking! A big job is here! Get up, all of you, follow me!"

A table of men and women, county-level hoodlums with various dyed hair colors, looked up upon hearing the sound, their eyes shining.

"What job, Brother Long? How much can we earn?"

These young men under twenty were fucking poor crazy. Hearing "big job," their eyes turned green.

"Earn your mother's earn! I didn't even talk about money!"

Brother Long was extremely heroic, slammed the table, raised his right thumb, and pointed at his own nose.

"This job is for Young Master Fang!"

The boys were stunned, not reacting for a moment, but those few girls suddenly let out an exclamation: "Which Young Master Fang? Fang Xinghe?!"

"Nonsense!"

Brother Long was extremely arrogant, his chin almost poking the ceiling, sneering at the sky.

"I told you guys long ago that I'm super close with Young Master Fang, and none of you fucking believed me. What do you say now?"

"Fuck!"

"Oh my god!"

"Brother, is it really Young Master Fang asking you to do a job?!"

The boys and girls' eyes started to glow blue, and they all stood up.

Brother Long patted his chest hard: "Do a good job, Young Master Fang will come over personally in a while! Be quick, are you doing it or not?!"

"Do, do, do!"

"Then what else is there to say? Just tell me who to fuck!"

Two young men jumped out. Looking closely, they all had the same spiky hairstyle as Fang Xinghe. The hair was probably red originally, but now it had faded a lot, half-yellow and half-red, and they even had the same style of ear studs as Fang Xinghe.

"Let's go, let's go handle them!"

The girls were even more excited. There were four in total, and coincidentally, two of them were the fierce girls who wanted to gang-rape Fang Xinghe.

The most aggressive one picked up a wine bottle and pointed at Brother Long: "If I don't see Fang Xinghe today, one of us is definitely going to die! What are we doing? Hurry up and spit it out!"

"Right! I'm even okay with sleeping with him!"

"Dreaming your mother's dream? Look at your dead face!"

"Damn it, shut up, follow me!"

Brother Long waved his hand, heroic and spirited, leading them out. Along the way, he looked at everyone with his chin raised and eyes slanted.

Just one word: Swagger!

This is Fang Xinghe's influence in this small county.

This small city has been too transparent for too long.

Trapped in this small city, young hoodlums from thirteen or fourteen to twenty-something years old are in too much need of a peer model who can truly be called an idol.

A simple high school entrance exam top scorer isn't worthy; what do good boys know about loyalty?

A simple ruthless killer isn't worthy either; that only makes people fear, what do they know about the confusion of small-town youth?

Only Fang Xinghe is worthy. He is the one who truly fought for his own piece of sky, and then wantonly splashed in that sky, writing one famous quote after another that thrilled teenagers across the country.

Idolizing Fang Xinghe because of essays they can't understand and books they can't learn from sounds stupid.

But in their numb and trapped dreams, being as awesome as Young Master Fang is almost the only light illuminating the way forward.

Once this is said out loud, it will sound even stupider.

So they never say it, just subconsciously lighten their steps and lower their volume when passing by the Third Middle School, fearing to wake the person in the sky.

Now, finally having the chance to do something for Young Master Fang and have personal contact with him, they all reacted.

Whoever Young Master Fang says to fuck, we fuck. If I frown, I'm your pet!