Chapter 56: Setting the Tone on Renri [Happy New Year's Eve!]

As it happened, Little Dragon was thinking along the exact same lines.
How to deal with that scoundrel next was entirely up to the boss—himself!

Upon returning, he gathered his closest junior brothers and sisters for a mobilization meeting.
At the meeting, Director Long briefly outlined three key points:
"Everyone knows the situation with Young Master Fang. His uncle is a truly despicable piece of work, damn it, preying on his own flesh and blood to swallow an orphan's inheritance. Many of us in Nongan have wanted to deal with him for a long time, but we just never found the right opportunity.
Now, Young Master Fang has entrusted such a huge task to us, and I have only three requirements:
Screw him!
Screw his wife!
Screw his son!
Screw his entire family!"

Tough Chick Number One curled her lip in disdain: "Damn idiot, that's clearly four points!"
Right after cursing, she raised her fist and cheered: "That's right, screw his entire family!"

Having successfully ignited everyone's work enthusiasm, Director Long was extremely satisfied and pressed his hand downward—clearly imitating our Brother Fang, though for some reason, very few people gave him the time of day.
Finally, he had to raise his volume: "Screwing him isn't the goal; solving the problem for Young Master Fang is! Brothers and sisters, Young Master Fang means we shouldn't get physical, but we need to make them shut up and stop chatting nonsense with outside reporters. What are your ideas?"
"Put his whole family under surveillance!"
"Beat his son!"
"Pour human waste all over his front door!"
"Damn, why are you so disgusting? You go shovel the waste then!"
"Crap, stop dreaming, pouring waste won't even fall to us; his neighbors have already done it several times."

Director Long and Tough Chick both froze: "When did that happen? Is the public enthusiasm really that high?"
"Right after Young Master Fang's interview with the *Beijing Youth Daily*."
Red-haired Spiky-head rolled his eyes, straining to recall: "Didn't the second part of the interview mention that Young Master Fang has no guardian? Even though it didn't explicitly spell out how despicable Wang Deli is, everyone in our county knows. The very next day, someone dumped human waste all over Wang Deli's front door..."
"Crap!"
Director Long slapped his thigh in profound regret.
"That bastard evolved a resistance ahead of schedule!"
"Pfft!"
Having such vernacular organized by him made several people burst out laughing on the spot.

"Then how should we handle this?"
"Forget all those empty gestures. Let's just bring a barbecue grill, hold a bonfire party right in his yard, drink merrily at night, and sleep in his house by day. I'd like to see if he dares to call the police and chase us out!"
"Calling the police definitely won't work!"
A petite girl suddenly leaped up: "My uncle is at the Station Front Precinct, and they utterly despise Wang Deli!"

That was indeed true. Ever since Fang Xinghe became famous, exposing Wang Deli's rotten deeds for all to know, people throughout the entire county looked down upon him.
Why had Fang Xinghe been famous for so long without that family making a single move?
Fear was part of it, but another reason was that they were already overwhelmed by their own troubles.
"If the men in caps try to chase us away, we'll just climb onto his neighbors' walls!"
"Right, right, his neighbor must hate his guts, practically getting roasted along with Young Master Fang, so they'll definitely be happy to help us!"

A group of eighteen- or nineteen-year-old guys and girls muttered among themselves, continuously hatching endless mischievous tricks.
Even Fang Xinghe, who had ordered them to handle the matter, never imagined that once human initiative was unleashed, it could truly activate infinite imagination and execution.
Just like that, completely without Young Master Fang's knowledge, Wang Deli's family suffered a massive stroke of misfortune.
...

Wang Yali and Zhao Chunhua had been worried sick.
However, after two days of walking on tenterhooks, absolutely nothing happened. In the end, *Southern Capital* never published the article, holding back their flatulence right inside.
"How did you pull that off?"
Wang Yali couldn't keep things bottled up inside and asked directly.
The street-smart young man replied casually: "What could I have done? Maybe they suddenly found their conscience."

Affection is affection, but matters best left unpublicized are better kept to oneself rather than blabbed everywhere.
The moment Wang Yali heard that, she knew she wouldn't get an answer, so she continued to closely monitor market developments.
As a result...
Only *Southern Daily* published a tepid, harmless black-propaganda piece titled *"Fang Xinghe Disregards Family Ties."*
*Southern Capital* looked down on that material and passed it along to their brother publication...
A hit piece that couldn't even hit the mark—they loathed Fang Xinghe to the core yet couldn't take him down, so they could only grind their teeth and vent their frustrations.

The Dark-circle Duo turned loafing on the job into an art form.
Strolling aimlessly around the small county town, they had no intention of conducting interviews; yet whenever reporters from other newspapers arrived, the two of them invariably swarmed forward.
Leveraging *Southern Capital's* reputation, they buddy-hushed and formed cliques with the newly arrived reporters, beautifying it as mutual assistance and information sharing.

Blackie and Dory found it inconvenient to follow any further, so they returned to ask their big brother. Fang Xinghe smiled and waved his hand: "Ignore the two of them; they don't harbor any malicious intent."
Accompanying them for two days showed enough goodwill; surely they weren't going to go pay formal visits to their homes?
The money had already been paid, so there was no need.
Of course, it was also because during their encounter the previous night, the white aura glowing around the two had grown increasingly stable and rich.
High fan status didn't necessarily mean someone was a good person, but in all likelihood, they wouldn't try to sabotage Fang Xinghe without massive interests at stake.
That being the case, they could just play as they pleased.

Returning to Baldy and Dark-circles, normally no one would be willing to share secret information with them.
However, because they simply couldn't interview the main subject, and the No. 3 High School students talked about minor matters while keeping their mouths shut about major ones, everyone came away empty-handed and could only vent their grievances to one another.
"Sigh, there really is nothing valuable left to dig out here; it's just like serving a prison sentence..."
Dark-circles' remark instantly resonated with everyone.
"You said it!"
"Everyone already knows the trivial nonsense you can dig up, and whatever you can't ask is locked inside the minds of those kids. Dealing with them is truly annoying, utterly exasperating!"
"The main thing is that Fang Xinghe refuses interviews, and this kid is really eccentric... Is that how they say it in Northeastern dialect?"
"A lone wolf of a madman, if you ask me..." Baldy suddenly sighed frantically, "No matter how long we waste here, there's no hope. He's simply not the kind of person who can be changed by the outside world."
"What about his uncle's side?"
"We went, but it was useless." Dark-circles lied without changing his expression, "When Fang Xinghe's mother was sick, his uncle was terrified of getting tainted by association and cut off contact proactively. Now he knows nothing about everything, only capable of endlessly rehashing some old childhood bullshit to scam us out of interview fees."
"Fine, a wasted trip."
...

One young reporter was indeed provoked into anger: "Damn it, I'm not staying guard anymore anyway!"
Baldy immediately chimed in: "We're planning to pull out too. Even the *People's Daily* was rebuffed; waiting any longer is just a waste of time."
"That makes sense. Let's go, shall we head back together?"
"That would be fantastic. We can chat and play cards on the road."
"Alright, then let's pull out!"

Just like that, instigated by Dark-circles and Baldy, the scattered journalists grouped up and returned in a boisterous cluster.
Along the way, they bragged, cracked jokes, smoked, and played cards, having a marvelous time.
Good grief—such a major matter as potentially exposing someone's house had already leaked whispers of wind, yet through Fang Xinghe's series of maneuvers, it was firmly squashed with no further developments!
To Wang Yali and the others, the absurdity of this result surpassed even the playoff essay article. And that was only because they didn't know the details; had they figured out the specifics... they probably would have gone half-mad.

Consequently, the anti-Fang faction essentially fizzled out.
Targeting Fang Xinghe personally? Impossible.
If they continued babbling nonsense like *"test-oriented education cannot cultivate high-end talent,"* Fang Xinghe wouldn't even need to make a comeback; readers would slap them flat with their bare hands.
Although the anti-Fang faction had tirelessly chipped away at the wall for decades, they possessed acute situational awareness; they rarely pushed forward blindly, mostly lingering in the shadows to fan ghost fires and stir up ominous winds.
Since there was currently no opportunity, they could only go into hibernation and wait for the next chance.
Thus, the presence of several core, major columnists suddenly vanished from print media.
Meanwhile, those literati, educators, and social commentators who had helped wave flags and shout battle cries—or who genuinely resented the enrollment expansion policy—were still fiercely blasting Fang Xinghe.
That was normal; in this era, everything experienced delays, and criticism cycles were inherently long. It wouldn't be strange for this foul wind to blow for another two months.

Right around then, the *People's Daily*, which had still been waiting for Fang Xinghe's interview clearance, finally churned out an article, grabbing a seat at this hot banquet.
The voice of the *People's Daily* could practically be described as marching "hand in hand with Comrade Xiao Fang," completely altering the historical trajectory of the past life.
As for who was riding whose coattails, that remained beside the point; the medicinal efficacy was instantaneous.
Just a day earlier, many public intellectuals were still racking their brains to write polemics criticizing Fang Xinghe, only to wake up the next morning and find the sky had fallen.

Song Zude, hiding away in his hometown, had just clamped onto a fried dough stick, not even biting through the first mouthful, when he caught sight of the third-page headline in the *People's Daily*, causing his head to buzz instantly.
*"Discussing Educational Topics Through Fang Xinghe's Two New Articles"*
The title was exceptionally ordinary—so ordinary it didn't even deserve to occupy that position.
What media outlet was the *People's Daily*?
No explanation necessary; every Chinese citizen understood.
The *People's Daily* had a total of only four pages, and coincidentally, today's front-page headline carried the name of a supreme figure, the second-page headline carried the name of another supreme figure, and the fourth-page headline carried the name of the American president.
And then, the three characters [Fang Xinghe] were splendidly sandwiched right between those three pages...
You tell me if that was terrifying or not.

Anyway, Song Zude was startled into a full-body shudder, the fried dough stick trembling between his teeth as if it were growing right out of his face.
Yet at that moment, he couldn't care about his image; his heart was filled with intense grievance—you little brat, by what virtue do you deserve this? How could you possibly be in such a position? Which stinking hack wrote this manuscript?
Resentfully reading downward, the author was Yi Ning.

Song Zude fell silent for a long while, his throat aching inexplicably.
Objectively and fairly speaking, Teacher Yi Ning's literary achievements weren't exceptionally high, but she was gentle, introverted, meticulous, and patient. Therefore, ever since the current Writers Association Chairman, Mr. Ba Jin, fell seriously ill and became bedridden, she had effectively been acting as the interim chairman.
Now, anyone moving in literary circles knew that next term, Sister Yi would most likely take office.
So, if you asked Song Zude to curse Fang Xinghe, he would dare use the dirtiest language imaginable; but if you asked him to openly confront Teacher Yi... get real, brother is a poet.

Sighing heavily, Zude harbored a one-in-ten-thousand chance of desperate luck as he carefully read the article.
On the whole, the article retained Teacher Yi's consistent style: bestowing abundant praise on Fang Xinghe, using the occasion to criticize the recent impetuous and chaotic phenomena in public opinion, with phrasing that was neither fierce nor naming names.
In other words, its offensive power was somewhat lacking, but its symbolic significance was supreme.
However, that was already enough to make the likes of Song Zude deeply uncomfortable—Chang Ping, Cheng Yizhuan, Xiao Chuan, Yan Lieshan... all the barking hounds who had chased and cursed Fang Xinghe suffered a collective psychological collapse, leaving their breakfasts untouched while nearly chewing up the newspaper instead.

One passage by Teacher Yi was written like this:
*"Xiaozhen ZuotiJia (Township Exam-Taker), a deeply playful, whimsical Fang Xinghe-style summary.*
*Fang Xinghe is exceptionally good at summarizing; I'm not flattering him, this is universally recognized.*
*Fudan's Chen Sihe praised his writing style for being full of vitality. If you ask me, it's because the child himself is full of vitality—Xiaozhen Zuotijia, hey, how vigorous!*
*Back when the New Concepts were launched, several veteran editors didn't trust him, feeling the child might be a bit too eccentric. I trusted him, saying this child is thoroughly honest, not at all like you imagine.*
*Now look at him again—how sincere and loyal is he to himself?*
*I was born in a small town; I am unwilling to grow old and rot here; I want to go out and see the cities, mountains, rivers, and the unknown vast world... I want to go, so I state it truthfully and strive for it accordingly.*
*This is a tremendous upward-striving force. Is this bad? This is wonderful!*
*When youths are encouraged by this, learning to be honest, learning to open their eyes to see the world, learning to fight for what they desire, how many more useful talents will we gain in the future because of this?*
*The rarest thing is that he lacks an inferiority complex, and the ideology he conveys is brimming with high-spirited fighting spirit.*
*So what if you were born in a small town?*
*I can still win awards, take first place, and write beautiful essays just the same.*
*Actually, we all hail from the vast rural areas; a lower birth is nothing to feel inferior about. One should simply strive to shake off the immediate predicament—just as Fang Xinghe wrote: shatter this fate, for arrogance truly belongs to the youthful days.*
*Looking across his three published articles, wildness and an unyielding spirit are things carved into his bones. How wonderful, we desperately need more children like this.*
*Of course, this does not mean he lacks wisdom; he has it, and all our judges saw it clearly.*
*In another essay, 'The Added Value of Reading,' the concept of 'added value' was exceptionally well-put.*
*The economic principles inherently contained within the term are one aspect; more importantly, when Fang Xinghe elaborated using the term 'added value,' the act itself powerfully demonstrated how immense the added value brought to his intelligence by study truly is.*
*Without studying, without reading, one cannot achieve such profound elaboration.*
*The concept of 'empowerment' is even better. I have never seen this term in any book, and for this reason, I specially consulted a Tsinghua economics professor, who had never heard of it either.*
*He was exceptionally shocked and full of praise.*
*Therefore, this is the crystallization of Fang Xinghe's personal intelligence, his praxis of combining knowledge and action regarding the ideology of 'reading empowerment.' The greater honesty he displayed in learning is entirely unlike the impetuousness mocked by many.*
*The word 'impetuousness' is an extreme slander against him.*
*On the contrary, his reflections are extremely profound, using himself as a model to demonstrate to the public how to superimpose value upon oneself.*
*Cleverness and handsome looks are his innate traits. Building upon that foundation, he has practiced martial arts for years to barbarize his physique; he loves studying to civilize his spirit; he persists in contemplation to precipitate his wisdom; and he writes unceasingly to enrich his literary talent.*
*Fang Xinghe has superimposed numerous added values onto himself, which is why not only do my children like him, but I likewise harbor abundant expectations, respect, and reverence for him.*
*Things in this world: understanding is not easy, but execution is even harder.*
*For Fang Xinghe to win first prize in the inaugural New Concepts Writing Competition, to place first in the Jilin Province high school entrance examinations, and to become today's youth idol—the proportion of innate endowment is exceedingly small. Without undergoing arduous and exceptional efforts, an orphan could by no means be this powerful.*
*He is an object worthy of study for all of us, not solely middle school students; adults should likewise take Fang Xinghe as a standard, actively resisting the injustices of fate, knowing without yielding, transforming hatred for everything into love for everything, shifting from looking down upon everything to respecting everything, ultimately finding the light deep within their hearts."*

The final paragraph of Teacher Yi Ning's short essay synthesized four of Fang Xinghe's works.
Resisting fate came from his interview quotations; knowing without yielding came from his playoff essay; hatred and love originated from *Xiaozhen Zuotijia*; the light deep within the heart came from *Added Value*.
They were blended so seamlessly that those phrases seemed naturally destined to be one single entity.
Not only did it look inspiring, but it overflowed with positive energy.
Of course, the core reason was simply that our Young Master Fang's foundation was righteous right from the start~~~

In short, an article bursting with upright energy published in a newspaper blazing with righteousness was truly a matching of brilliance with brilliance, generating a massive wave of prestige for him.
Once this article was published, the literary world shifted direction rapidly.
The Writers Association of the present day was naturally far inferior to what it would be twenty years later, but compared to twenty years hence, its influence was still quite substantial.
Therefore, when Teacher Yi Ning suddenly displayed a stance of forcefully supporting Fang Xinghe, coupled with the endorsement of the *People's Daily*, a portion of literati who relied on the Association for their rice bowls immediately lowered their flags, shrunk back, and observed the direction of the wind.

Ordinarily, their shrinking wouldn't have affected much because heavyweights like Yan Lieshan, Xiong Muyun, and Cheng Yizhuan were quite capable of carrying the burden and didn't care about that bit of pressure.
However, now that this bunch had shrunk back first, leaving only puppet forces standing on the frontlines, the resulting chain reaction was catastrophic.
The new editorial directly yanked out the very last spine of the public intellectual faction, finally shattering their arrogant momentum.
Once this crowd turned cowardly, fearful, and soft, the massive offline voices of Fang Xinghe's supporters launched a final total assault against those absurd theories.
Then, with the force of a decaying, withered tree and unstoppable momentum, they swept the landscape clean.

Just how many people were cursed because of this? Countless!
Among them, the most miserable victim was once again Song Zude... Unlucky fellow, matters had progressed to the point where young girls were writing letters directly to the newspaper office, cursing him as a thoroughbred beast.
He certainly deserved it, but the focal point wasn't him; it was the way this grand debate concluded.
It had started with a mighty roar and ended amidst a sky full of curses, as the pro-faction unleashed a furious tirade against the clowns. Having vented their emotions, they suddenly lost interest in the debate altogether.
And with the anti-Fang faction extinguishing their fires, the topic lost any foothold whatsoever.
Thus, after peaking, the heat dropped off a cliff and rapidly returned to absolute calm.
Newspapers no longer featured various experts debating whether reading was useful or not.

No one could have predicted this outcome.
Except for Fang Xinghe.
He was the only one capable of controlling the board and sustaining that towering heat.
Publishing another new article, calling someone out by name, tacitly allowing *Southern Capital* to take away his black materials, actively accepting interviews... there were far too many ways.
Yet he decided to stop right there.

Criticism, debate, reflection, and comparison regarding test-oriented education, right up until the establishment of trust, was not a simple matter that could be accomplished in a single battle.
Any overly optimistic notion was frivolous.
The dregs would inevitably resurface in the future until we live out our second spring and the dynamics of offense and defense completely reverse.
"However, that grand historical narrative driven from a macro perspective should not be initiated by me, nor should I be the one to make the final summary. My mission is already complete."

Fang Xinghe remained clear-headed, rational, and steadfast.
He didn't know precisely how many young kids in his past life chose to drop out and work between 1999 and 2005 over such trivial matters, nor did he know how long it took for those kids' youthful vigor upon entering Jianghu to transform into resentment, hatred, and regret... he possessed no such data.
He only occasionally saw such words across various online groups: *If back then... how wonderful it would be.*
Looking back, half a lifetime had been squandered.
Yet this was no retrospective look; it was merely a review, capable of changing nothing.
And as the sole person who clearly saw the historical finale, Fang Xinghe chose to withdraw at the peak of his heat, shut his mouth, and deep-hide his achievements and fame.

"I have altered this historical trajectory to the greatest possible extent and saved quite a few small drop-out idiots."
"I have fulfilled my responsibility, and it's time to retreat gracefully amidst the surging currents."
"Achieving success does not require me to be the one who takes the credit, but achieving success must involve my participation—such a state is truly the most comfortable..."

Actively contracting, letting what ought to subside fade into silence, was a form of wisdom.
What ought to subside?
The erroneous, insufficiently precise heat where the drawbacks outweighed the benefits.
The subtle nuances within could hardly be fully described; they existed solely within Fang Xinghe's heart.
Yet, even though his actions were so decisive and swift, he still couldn't escape the ensuing "backlash."

Public opinion suddenly plastered a complete set of labels onto him: loves learning, possesses upright character, holds lofty ambitions, and stands as a pillar of talent for the future.
The *People's Daily* setting the tone was the primary cause, but an even more unexpected and crucial shift was the sudden flip of the anti-Fang faction.
Yan Lieshan openly changed his tune in the latest issue of *Southern Weekly*—
*"After arguing back and forth for quite a while, having criticized and cursed, I actually find myself harboring a few genuine strands of respect for Fang Xinghe right now.*
*How many strands specifically?*
*Measure it with a ruler, and it exceeds the halfway mark.*
*At his age, with his endowment, being able to persist in studying and remain faithful to what he thinks and believes in his heart is truly no small feat.*
*Through empathy, I shamefully discovered that I cannot do it.*
*As a conscientious, sufficiently impartial, and objective media professional, one is one and two is two; the bad must be scolded, but the good must also be praised..."*

The article didn't mention education once, focusing entirely on praising Fang Xinghe personally and framing him as a uniquely non-replicable, visionary genius writer with thought, height, and persistence—temporarily tender, yet bound for a brilliant future.
The higher-ups of the anti-Fang faction collectively pivoted, heaping praises upon him and thereby forging a broad public consensus.
Most adults didn't bother to thoroughly understand little Fang; the moment they saw him waving flags and charging forward for the sake of reading, while generating goodwill, they also tacitly categorized him as a state-sanctioned "new youth, new hope."

In the short term, this was a good thing, drastically lowering the difficulty of gathering fans.
Within days, the virtually stagnant floating fans surged by over another million.
However, setting aside the fact that these were mostly useless, fickle middle-aged fans, the real trouble was that if one stretched the timeline, should the future Fang Xinghe commit behaviors contrary to their stereotypes, the backlash from public opinion...
*"Will be even more thrilling!"*

Fang Xinghe licked his lips, a mischievous, anticipating, and restless dark-humored grin forming at the corner of his mouth.
Having a clear conscience toward the era, he now just wanted to focus on his own destiny.
When acting as an internet navy, the greatest fear was lacking rhythm.
When repeatedly washing and punishing fans, the greatest fear was lacking a legitimate reason.
When pulling off dark-to-red marketing stunts, the greatest fear was overreaching and failing to control the intensity.

Yet once all conditions were fully satisfied, the chaos, turbulence, dark tides, cyberbullying, or even universal condemnation that ordinary people feared were, to Fang Xinghe, nothing more than an extreme challenge detached from life and death.
Elevation by lifting high to drop heavily?
You have the strength to lift him high, but do you have the power to kill him?

Some firmly believed this, while others were secretly laying out the battlefield, brewing a counter-offensive strike.
****************
Spring flowers bloom and wither, next year brings clear skies; brothers and sisters, Happy New Year, and may playing with serpents bring great auspiciousness!