Chapter 49: First Broadcast on Satellite TV [Thanks to New Patron NicholasZS]

When the same voice is raised by many, it ceases to be an ordinary sound and becomes the voice of the people.

They lacked tactics or marketing skills, but they had mouths and hearts, family ties and social circles.

Voices from offline are hard to reach higher levels, yet intensifying conflicts inevitably draw top-down attention. Thus, even the aloof 1999 television station could no longer ignore it.

Gradually, local stations began discussing reading topics in related programs.

The turning point occurred on the fourth day after the publication of "Added Value."

It started with BJ Station’s urban news, which conducted a street interview about the reading debate and “found the right” elderly man.

The old man, speaking with a muddled Beijing accent, angrily cursed: “The media nowadays are outrageous! Nonsense, fabrications, babbling on and on... even a child is better!”

“Which child?” the reporter pressed.

“You know, the one who writes essays, Fang, Fang Shuai?”

“Sir, do you mean Fang Xinghe?” the reporter helped clarify.

“No, no!” the old man waved his hand firmly, full of confidence. “My granddaughter calls him ‘Big Shuai’! His surname is Fang, so that means Fang Shuai, right?”

The female reporter suddenly widened her eyes, her expression awkwardly unsure whether to laugh...

She bit her tongue, avoided the name, and pressed on.

“So, what do you think of his articles? Are his views right?”

“Right!” the old man waved his hand vehemently, eyes blazing. “Those nonsense experts and reporters should all be lined up and shot!”

The female reporter, now caught on the execution list, was both amused and helpless. “Sir, nobody said anyone should be shot...”

“Impossible!” the old man was resolute and unwavering. “He wrote that all the bad elements hidden among the people should be crushed!”

“...”

That fiery tone and wide-eyed stare—were you an opera performer in the past?

Right? Right? Right?

Perhaps it was precisely this absurd mismatch that made the episode unexpectedly popular.

The young viewers who watched nearly died laughing, then gleefully joked online: “Commander Fang Shuai has ordered to shoot all those professors!”

Fang Xinghe was firmly branded with a big label.

The well-behaved Fang said: I never said that!

The onlookers said: But crushing is your style!

So, whether the old man had actually read Fang Xinghe’s articles became a mystery.

Anyway, the meme caught on—these days there are memes and annual buzzwords, like PLMM and dinosaurs, though no one officially tracks them.

But the vitality of these memes is no less than in later times.

Thus, Fang Xinghe inexplicably gained both a disparaging nickname and a flattering one.

His detractors called him “Commander Fang,” meaning he blindly bossed people around, babbled where he shouldn’t, and fancied himself a supreme leader—ridiculous really.

Fans called him “Fang Shuai,” meaning Fang Xinghe is the most handsome, a straightforward compliment.

The two factions battled fiercely online.

Well, actually they fought every day, so it was nothing unusual.

Anyway, the program’s ratings soared, and the online discussions were lively. Many satellite TV stations noticed Fang Xinghe’s popularity and social value, finally deciding to follow up strongly.

Not by focusing on education per se, but by focusing on Fang Xinghe and Han Han as a way to explore educational topics.

The difference was obvious, though to the audience it seemed the same—who exactly was Fang Xinghe? Why was another station talking about him?

Those annoyed naturally stopped watching, but some kept tuning in.

Thus, television, newspapers, radio, and the nascent internet, all four integrated, began to fully enjoy Fang Xinghe’s traffic while creating new streams.

Whether the coverage reached a hundred million before was uncertain; now it certainly had.

The downside was that Fang Xinghe’s desire for quiet seclusion was almost entirely shattered.

Matters had reached a level where he could no longer remain silent; the whole world urged him to act, with all kinds of mentions, encouragements, and visits.

From Zhao Changtian to Li Qigang, from Aunt Chen to Sister Yali, from Yu Hua to Chen Sihe, all familiar contacts were swept up by social and work pressures.

Most anxious was Editor-in-Chief Zhao. The May issue of “Sprout” sold an astonishing 600,000 copies, but after missing Fang Xinghe in June and July, sales plummeted back to 50,000, driving the entire team frantic.

Though better than the near-death state before, who didn’t want to keep shining?

Naturally, they focused their hopes on Fang Xinghe, urging him daily to produce a full novel, promising the highest price for serialization in “Sprout.”

Fang Xinghe didn’t hesitate to refuse outright.

If that novel serial were monthly, readers would come after him with pitchforks...

Then Editor-in-Chief Zhao and Chief Editor Li began shamelessly bombarding him with countless texts daily, chatting even when there was nothing to say.

Meanwhile, reporters became increasingly frantic.

His phone number was shared with only a dozen people, yet texts and calls multiplied exponentially.

Fang Xinghe grew weary, switched off his phone, and let the world be.

Buying a new phone was pointless...

By late July, the county propaganda chief was finally forced to act, personally leading a group to visit.

But Liu Dashan knocked and knocked for a long while, unable to get through the courtyard gate, sweating profusely.

“Damn! My appointment papers haven’t even come through yet!”

Guidance Director Da Huang glanced around, gritted his teeth, and climbed over the courtyard wall with a hefty thud.

“Pfft!”

“Ugh... ha... ow...” Da Huang endured the pain, chuckled softly, limped to open the small courtyard door, and then loudly called, “Xiao Fang, are you home? The gate’s open, we came in!”

The leaders all cast approving glances his way, impressed by his boldness and capability.

Da Huang, your life path just got wider~

Fang Xinghe had no choice but to appear, though he gave no warmth, standing at the door to receive the guests.

The county leaders’ message was simple.

Translated roughly:

“Ancestor, you ignore others, but you must at least give some face to the People’s Daily reporters, right? They came all the way here!”

Fang Xinghe lazily raised an eyelid: “Then just give them the interview.”

Liu Dashan’s calves trembled—Oh my God, don’t be so sarcastic!

Standing before you is our minister; behind him waits the People’s Daily!

If you’re really angry, can you hit me instead?

But Fang Xinghe refused to back down, choosing a direct challenge.

Not out of arrogance, but to set rules.

In a small county, relationships are complicated. If you give an inch, they’ll think “gentlemen can be bullied,” and endless troubles will follow.

Fang Xinghe was clear: he’s a kid without solid background. If he acted overly friendly, always negotiable, he’d forever be dragged along to toast at every party, even the county leader’s son’s wedding.

All in the name of “respect,” “giving face.”

Fame and profit without background or backbone? That’s how you get plucked apart by all kinds of scoundrels.

Chinese people prize smoothness and connections—it’s the proper way for ordinary folks to get by.

But Fang Xinghe wasn’t going to indulge them.

“I’m here not to make friends and play nice, or to make money as a paperhanger!”

“You want face? I’m not giving it to you. Take it or leave it.”

No taking it.

The county leaders were gracious and smart, knowing they couldn’t force it, so they politely negotiated.

“Xiao Fang, you’re the person to be interviewed, of course you’re in charge. If you have concerns, please share them. We’ll brainstorm to find a proper solution...”

Those with finesse know how to behave.

Fang Xinghe then spoke frankly:

“If it’s about education, I won’t accept. I’ve said all I want to say, nothing more to express.

Also, I’m writing my first novel. I have no time nor desire to be distracted by outside interference.

I’m straightforward by nature. I hope you understand.”

Liu Dashan and Da Huang exchanged a glance, smiling wryly.

“Ancestor, who wouldn’t understand? Nowadays, to criticize you requires qualification, and none of us have that...”

The propaganda chief could only nod, unwilling to push.

“Writing is important. We understand.”

After a pause, he added tactfully:

“How about this — you focus on your work. On behalf of People’s Daily and the provincial station, I’ll send you a reservation. When you have time, we’ll complete the interview.”

“That’s fine.”

Showing enough respect, Fang Xinghe gave a verbal promise, saving the leaders’ face.

But when he’d have time...

That’s for me to decide. So, just wait.

Since the People’s Daily reporter left empty-handed, no one else dared embarrass themselves. Fang Xinghe thus scored two peaceful days.

Two days, no more.

Because two days later, trouble arose again.

In May this year, Jisheng Satellite TV abruptly dropped all cumbersome approval processes and swiftly approved the use of Fang Xinghe’s interview footage, producing a 60-minute special episode of “Information Express.”

The program combined a studio host, interview videos, and article commentary, condensing the earlier “Life News” segment, focusing on the meaning of reading.

Or simply put... it was a special praising Fang Xinghe.

The hometown boy not only topped the high school entrance exam and was a literary genius but also heroically championed justice against frivolous and rash debates. If not him, then who?

Thus, despite wanting to keep a low profile and settle down, Fang Xinghe inevitably appeared on satellite TV, showing his full dynamic image to the world for the first time.

From 5:30 to 6:30 p.m., his face occasionally froze in close-up, dominating the screen.

Jisheng Satellite TV’s ratings had been abysmal, worse than a dog’s life, but today... finally vindicated!

Across the nation, teenagers switching channels and “passing by” Jisheng Satellite TV were almost all drawn in by Fang Xinghe’s close-ups.

What if you missed the close-ups?

No problem. A fixed caption ran at the bottom: [Exclusive Interview with Fang Xinghe].

Just five simple characters, the focus crystal clear, hanging near the host’s waist like a floating banner, see it?

Still didn’t notice?

Fine, during the host’s reading, half the screen showed Fang Xinghe’s portrait—red hair, limited-edition earrings. Surely you saw that?

Jisheng Satellite TV may be poor at content, but when it comes to tricks, they’re masters.

Today’s producer, probably a former two-person comic actor, really knows the audience: “If you look carefully once, no one escapes.”

Countless viewers nationwide were glued, wide-eyed, watching the entire program.

Why wide-eyed?

Because of that moving face on screen.

Before, Fang Xinghe’s six to eight photos had been published, his looks widely recognized as kingly. Many said they’d never seen such a beautiful child.

He was unlike any handsome men of previous generations.

Teacher Zhu’s generation had righteous handsomeness; then came Zunlong with noble elegance; Jin Chengwu had a strong mixed East-West look; the Four Heavenly Kings were dashing, and Xie Tingfeng was rebellious...

But Fang Xinghe’s portraits defied the word handsome. More like a mysterious, dreamlike beauty.

You can’t classify him or say he resembles anyone, for he stands alone, a type never seen before.

Those who disliked him called him creamy-faced but couldn’t accuse him of effeminacy.

Those who liked him couldn’t honestly claim he had masculine vigor—it just didn’t fit.

His face essentially held an androgynous divinity. Fang knew that to have masculine allure, his skin shouldn’t be too good, but he maxed out flawless skin, crafting a uniquely ethereal charm.

There are many male stars with masculine, rugged, wildly hormonal “ugly handsome” looks. Who became top stars?

Mention Zhu Yawen, Sun Honglei, Zhang Hanyu—all praised.

But when it came to spending money, only the trendy got the funds.

Fang Xinghe’s ambition was arrogant: He wanted to carve a new path at the zenith alone, no interest in crowding the same track for a meager share.

So he gave himself heterochromia, never to be duplicated again.

Each portrait looked like a blockbuster, as if AI concept art from the future.

Alas, the impact of still photos was slightly limited. Although no Photoshop yet, retouching existed since the 1980s.

Other stars always wore makeup, found angles, created ambiance...

So Fang Xinghe’s portraits weren’t vastly different from other top beauties; in fact, photos enhanced others but somewhat limited him.

Now, in video, with motion, Fang’s fans, detractors, and bystanders were dumbfounded.

TV resolution wasn’t high, filming equipment poor, so no texture, sweat, hair, scars, or moles showed. His face looked like a flawless white jade glowing on screen...

Really, Mao Xiaotong’s deskmate Dou Dou swore she wasn’t exaggerating. Leaning almost on the TV, she couldn’t find a single flaw.

“Mom! How can there be such a man?”

Her mother stopped beside her, equally stunned: “This kid is so pretty, he looks like a doll.”

A doll... umm, not quite right, but she couldn’t find better words.

Her father busied himself bringing dishes, four dishes and a soup all set, but mother and daughter remained stuck in front of the TV, focused.

So frustrating.

“Come eat! What’s so good to watch? Probably a ton of makeup on that face...”

Before she finished, the camera suddenly pulled back, showing Zhao Chunhua on screen.

That lady was caked in heavy, formal makeup, but under the glaring sun in the courtyard, she looked dull, cakey, oily, and disheveled...

In the same frame, under the same lighting, left and right were completely different styles, a stark contrast.

Dou Dou’s father fell silent.

The mother and daughter glanced at him, then quickly looked back at Fang Xinghe.

A single look was enough; no time to waste on him.

Just then, they caught Fang Xinghe’s dazzling smile—a close-up of his face, a fleeting faint smile that brought him vividly to life. Though brief, it dazzled them, triggering a flood of mysterious hormones in their brains.

“Ahhhhh! Fang Xinghe is really handsome!”

Dou Dou jumped and screamed, while her mother smiled with a fond, auntie-like grin.

“Indeed handsome. Fang Xinghe? Quite a beautiful name too.”

Dou Dou’s father blinked, his mindset crumbling.

“You two might as well nag me a bit. For a pretty boy, I’m neither father nor husband anymore!”

Today, his complaint spoke for many men.

Today, the deputy director of Jisheng Satellite TV, seeing the ratings, beamed and slammed the table: “Replay it at the same time tomorrow!”

Today, many girls lost sleep, feeling for the first time the unique flutter of adolescence.

Today, the secluded Fang Xinghe watched his fan count soar by a million, while his star value inexplicably jumped over ten million, his mind full of question marks.

What’s going on?

Who’s been doing things behind my back?

Also today, Fang’s detractors wailed online, not only enduring hundreds of layers of insults from hyper fans but also painfully feeling the hopeless gap.

Damn it!

Good at studying, cool writing, and so handsome—how can one even live?

Me? Was I born a toad?!

Unexpectedly, the inevitable happened—no one cared about the program’s content, forgetting it was a serious educational discussion.

All Fang’s detractors remembered was that this guy looked even more stunning in motion than in photos, with skin like porcelain and jade, radiating the promise of a top-tier “silver spoon baby” who could avoid decades of detours...

Fans celebrated with drums and fireworks, enthusiastically spreading the word—

Turns out “handsome enough to glow” is a real adjective!

Our brother Xinghe is THAT adjective!

All the debates about reading and fate can step aside!

Today, no one can stop me from declaring my heart already belongs, my life devoted to Xinghe!

Of course, passion eventually fades, reason returns, and then surely the two factions’ battle will be resolved.

Uh, maybe?

For now, no one knows or cares.