Chapter 62: Press Conference: Chaos

Leaving Wudang, Fang Xinghe took another flight to the capital.

Jeanswest was in a rush to launch its autumn and winter collection. Since they hadn't signed a brand ambassador originally, they just shrugged it off, but now that they had the hottest rising star holding down the fort, they decided to simply hold a press conference and officially announce their corporate rebranding.

A press conference back in those days was vastly different from what Generation Z envisioned.

There were no outdoor activities, indoor galas, or banquets. They simply booked a conference room at the Wangfujing Hotel, invited a group of relevant media personnel, and went through a brief formality.

The proceedings kicked off with a speech by General Manager Li, who babbled on about a bunch of corporate philosophies, nearly lulling the reporters to sleep.

It wasn't until Ms. Yang, the host, announced, "And now, please welcome our brand ambassador, the teenage literary genius, Fang Xinghe, to the stage!" that things changed.

The reporters instantly snapped to attention, hoisting their heavy camera lenses high and aiming them directly at the side exit.

Then—a sudden, blinding flash flood illuminated the room!

This was Fang Xinghe's first public appearance since his interview with Beijing Youth Daily. Although the hype around him had cooled down somewhat, every single photograph remained a rare and precious piece of documentation.

Who could blame them? He never showed his face in public voluntarily.

Scarcity bred value.

Good grief! Experiencing this kind of treatment for the very first time, Fang Xinghe was blinded by a vast expanse of white, followed instantly by a touch of dark vision. Everything he looked at became blurry and speckled with golden stars.

How on earth did those celebrities train themselves for this?

Standing under a glare comparable to a military-grade flashbang without even blinking once—now that was truly badass.

Fang Xinghe wasn't quite used to it, yet he knew he didn't need to force himself to look comfortable. He narrowed his eyes slightly, staring straight ahead toward the presentation platform, deliberately denying the reporters in the audience a clear view of his full face.

It was an unprofessional display, yet far from being annoyed, the reporters grew even more excited and trigger-happy.

"Damn, Fang Xinghe in the flesh is drop-dead gorgeous!"

"You said it! That profile is absolute perfection!"

The seasoned entertainment reporters present had seen it all, having photographed practically every celebrity in the domestic entertainment industry. Consequently, they were even more shaken than ordinary news reporters.

The profile view was the angle that best showcased a star's bone structure. Most male celebrities couldn't pull off a short-haired, pure profile shot; they always had to cheat the angle by shooting obliquely.

It wasn't that they couldn't shoot it at all; it was simply that the results looked hideous.

Take Long Lichi, for instance: the middle of his face protruded too much, and his massive nose was a complete disaster. A 90-degree close-up profile completely destroyed any hint of sexual appeal, which was why he especially avoided it back in his youth.

Uncle Jiao's issue lay in his overly long jawbone and the deep extension of his jaw angle, meaning he wasn't nearly as stunning once he stepped out of period costumes and makeup.

John Lone's 45-degree profile was insanely majestic, yet his 90-degree profile made his chin appear slightly too short.

Takeshi Kaneshiro's pure profile might score a solid 98, with a single point deducted because the curve of his bridge of the nose was a bit too rounded...

Yet Fang Xinghe possessed a flawless, dead-angle-free 99-point profile. His cranial vault was full and rounded, his facial bones light yet three-dimensional, his contours harmoniously balanced, and his bone base smooth and even—all of which were displayed to absolute perfection from a side angle.

"Holy crap, look at that tiny head and delicate face! Who gives a damn about composition anymore?!"

The entertainment reporters clicked away like madmen, realizing that no matter how they shot him, he looked gorgeous. They couldn't help muttering excitedly among themselves.

"Is Fang Xinghe going to enter showbiz?"

"No way, right? He got admitted to Peking University on a recommendation, why bother wading through this muddy water?"

"What a terrible waste! Not putting that face in movies is practically a crime!"

"Makes sense. I find his movements even more evocative. It's not just about being handsome; it's that exaggerated, intensely powerful aura. Cast him as a prince or an ancient noble scion, and I can't even imagine how gorgeous it would look..."

They didn't quiet down even after Fang Xinghe took his seat behind the podium, continuing to chatter incessantly while snapping away non-stop.

"Thank you, Xinghe, for growing alongside Jeanswest..."

After the host warmed up the crowd, the microphone was finally handed over to Fang Xinghe.

The reporters had waited until they thought their flowers would wither, and seeing their chance, they eagerly raised their hands to ask questions.

Coincidentally, the very first reporter called upon happened to be from Beijing Youth Daily.

They had both an entertainment section and a business section, making this an absolute bullseye.

"Fang Xinghe, why did you accept a commercial endorsement? You're only in your first year of high school—don't you think it's a bit too early?"

It sounded like a challenge, but friendly media outlets had actually submitted their questions in advance and received approval.

Fang Xinghe replied with poise and grace, "Monetizing commercially is a very natural thing; it doesn't really require a profound or overly intense reason. The opportunity was right, the brand's tone aligned with mine, and General Manager Li was willing to show the sincerity of 'buying a fine horse's bones at a high price.' It was only natural that we collaborated.

Besides, being a freshman in high school is certainly not too early. I started taking on commercial game-boosting orders back when I was in seventh grade, and it's been over two years now. My satisfaction rate is exceptionally high as well."

"???"

The reporters in the audience stared in blank amazement for a good while. When the realization finally hit them, a sudden burst of uproarious laughter erupted.

"Hhahahaha!"

"Hehehehe..."

Fang Xinghe's answer was so humorous—a description entirely unprecedented in this era, trendy yet impactful, bringing genuine delight to everyone present.

A bunch of reporters frantically scribbled away.

Every single word had to be recorded accurately!

If such a cheeky remark wasn't posted on the entertainment section's front page, highlighted in bold and printed in oversized font, then they didn't deserve to be in the news business!

The second reporter called upon came from China Fashion Magazine, also a very friendly outlet.

"Fang Xinghe, what are your thoughts on Jeanswest's clothing line?"

Fang Xinghe replied frankly and generously, "Creating a fast-fashion brand for teenagers is a fantastic concept. We teenagers need more Jeanswest.

As for the clothes themselves...

I actually tried on quite a few of the autumn new arrivals. To speak my honest mind, the workmanship is solid, the fabrics are comfortable, and what's rare is that even after the strategic adjustment, the price points remain low, offering incredible value for money.

However, the design of certain individual items needs improvement. A small portion of the clothing has a design philosophy that leans too conservative and hasn't reached a level that satisfies me.

I've shared my feedback with General Manager Li, and he attaches great importance to it, promising to make improvements as soon as possible.

Actually, this is completely normal. Jeanswest is a young brand, much like kids my age—ambitious and driven, yet still lacking experience and the tempering of time.

We will trade sincerity for true feelings, learn true knowledge, remain true to ourselves, and improve step by step, striving to become a fast-fashion brand loved and trusted by teenagers."

Upon hearing the conclusion, many reporters couldn't help bursting into enthusiastic applause.

Fang Xinghe was likely the only celebrity they knew of who dared to openly point out a brand's flaws right at a press conference.

Who didn't just spout endless flattery and corporate clichés on occasions like this?

Only Fang Xinghe possessed the courage to be this sincere.

He praised what deserved praise, pointed out existing problems without mincing words, and finally tied it all together on a higher, more inspiring plane.

If Jeanswest had possessed this level of competence earlier, would they have ever suffered losses severe enough to force a corporate pivot?

Didn't they see General Manager Li beside him smiling from ear to ear?

The third reporter was a woman: "Fang Xinghe, could you please stand up and show us your outfit today, as well as give us a breakdown of your styling?"

"Of course."

Having taken the money, Fang Xinghe was a true professional. He walked over to the open space nearby, making himself available for the reporters to photograph.

"The outfit I'm wearing right now is my favorite new release.

Gem-blue straight-leg jeans paired with a light gray pure-cotton long-sleeved T-shirt—it creates a fresh, natural, simple, and casual vibe.

I purposely chose the T-shirt two sizes larger to pursue the most unconstrained, relaxed wearing experience. At the same time, I tucked the left side of the overly long hem into my waistband, breaking the horizontal parallel to create an inclined, compact visual effect so I don't look like I'm wearing a burlap sack..."

"Hohouhou..."

The reporters laughed, clicked their cameras, and marveled at Fang Xinghe's ingenious creativity.

Tucking a shirt into one's pants was a styling method decades old, but people either tucked it all in or left it all out. A method like his—deliberately choosing a size two too big and tucking in only a single corner, pulling the crewneck collar askew toward the side—was unprecedented.

The ultimate effect wasn't just about whether the person himself was handsome; it carried a special kind of casual, unrestrained, cool-yet-hip aesthetic.

In other words, it didn't depend on facial features; anyone could copy it.

In fact, quite a few people right then were convinced that this was bound to become the next big trend.

"You are truly amazing!"

A female reporter suddenly cried out from the crowd.

Hearing it but unable to pinpoint who spoke, Fang Xinghe nodded in that direction: "Thank you, you have great taste too."

The fourth question finally began to lose its friendly tone.

The reporter chosen by the host was from the Southern Daily—currently one of the top-tier domestic publications, and an unavoidable presence.

"Fang Xinghe, you're just a 14-year-old kid who has written a few short essays. May I ask, do you honestly believe you are worth 1.2 million a year?"

Fang Xinghe turned his head to look. Oh, look at that—what a small world, an old acquaintance!

Standing there with his neck craned to ask the question was none other than Dark Circles.

He wore a stubborn expression, his face rigid, radiating utter disdain for Fang Xinghe.

Across the conference room, many hostile media outlets that disliked Fang Xinghe were secretly applauding and grinning, wearing expressions that signaled they were ready to watch him make a fool of himself.

"Oh, Southern Daily? Old rivals, aren't you guys the ones who've been smearing me in your paper all this time?"

When he first started speaking, Fang Xinghe was smiling—a cold smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Yet his expression quickly turned ice-cold, clearly telegraphing outright hostility.

His subsequent official response detonated like a thunderclap, causing the press conference hall to ring with a loud buzzing sound.

"I think I'm worth 12 million."

Right after that, he stared directly into the main recording camera, continuing to fish for reactions at a leisurely pace, each word more arrogant than the last.

"Those who study better than I do don't understand fashion the way I do;

Those with a better sense of fashion than I have aren't as young as I am;

Those younger than I am aren't as skilled at writing as I am;

Those more skilled at writing essays than I am aren't as handsome as I am;

And those more handsome than I am aren't as wild as I am.

Look at that, within my age group... You know what, let's widen the age range a bit to 20—across the entire country, for anyone under 20 years old, no one is more fashionable, more talented, wilder, more handsome, or more authentic than I am!

I am one of a kind.

You may not like it, but you can't stop other people from liking it either.

Therefore, your question is laughable at its very core. This isn't me boasting about my own price tag; it's the brand's commercial recognition of how much they are willing to spend to build a brand image alongside me.

Jeanswest is decisive and bold, being the first to stand up and respect my commercial value, which is why I gave them a discount to collaborate.

If you still fail to understand, you might as well wait and see how many brands that rely on teenage endorsements are willing to come to me with an offer higher than 1.2 million, joining me to smash apart your ugly faces of looking down on others.

When that day comes, I hope you at the Southern Daily will ask me again: Fang Xinghe, how much are you worth?"

Damn!

Damn, damn, damn, damn!

The conference room exploded instantly into a chaotic uproar. Reporters frantically raised their hands—the kind where they were practically jumping out of their seats—screaming "Me! Me! Me!" at the top of their lungs until no other sound could be heard.

Rumors had been circulating in the media circle for a long time: Fang Xinghe was notoriously wild, incredibly arrogant, and super difficult to deal with.

Yet many people had remained skeptical, wondering if it could really be that exaggerated.

Now, they knew for sure.

The rumors weren't false. Fang Xinghe was wilder than imagined, and far tougher.

Damn, he was genuinely pushing back head-on...

And the most badass part was that his logic was crystal clear, backed by sound reasoning. He had singled out the Southern Daily beforehand to narrow the scope of his verbal assault, yet when he finally laid into them, it was merciless, hearty, and immensely satisfying.

In fact, even if the final paragraph were omitted, this response would still be textbook material.

He transformed a price dispute into the sincerity of a partnership to "build a brand image together," elevated corporate overspending into "respecting my commercial value," and casually flattered Jeanswest's leadership for having "vision and courage"...

Search the entire entertainment industry, and you wouldn't find a second star with this level of eloquence, quick-wittedness, and grandeur anytime soon.

He cursed out reporters at the company's own press conference, yet managed to make the company's boss smile like a blossoming chrysanthemum—who else could pull that off?!

"Fang Xinghe, you..."

"Student Fang, I am..."

The atmosphere grew increasingly heated. Truly, everyone wanted to ask a question, to the point where they were standing up and fighting for the floor.

However, Fang Xinghe put down the microphone and leaned back against his chair.

Ms. Yang, who was doubling as the host, caught the cue and immediately steered the proceedings to the next step.

"Next, please enjoy the brand commercial we will soon launch across CCTV Channel 1..."

The crowd below failed to quiet down, remaining restless and buzzing.

Yet with no chance left to ask questions, they had no choice but to watch the video.

As a result, upon taking a closer look...

"Whoa!"

Gasps of astonishment rose one after another. They were triggered yet again!

With the projection screen behind him, Fang Xinghe turned his head to glance at it for a few moments before quickly losing interest.

In his eyes, it was a rather shoddy piece of work—no plot, no characters, and the action sequences weren't nearly as badass as he had envisioned. It was pure, unadulterated "looking cool for the sake of looking cool."

The full version was a mere 30 seconds long, finally freezing on a close-up profile of him with his head slightly lowered, breathing heavily as a single bead of sweat slid down, while the promotional slogan played as a voiceover...

Fang Xinghe had seen plenty of far more awesome commercials, so he felt this was just mediocre and hardly a classic.

The reporters in the audience felt differently, however. "Ooh," "ah," and "whoa" echoes filled the room, with some even shouting out in frantic praise.

Clearly, they believed Fang Xinghe had performed his job exceptionally well.

Fine. That was just as well.

As soon as time was up, Fang Xinghe nodded to those around him and turned to step off the stage.

"Don't! Fang Xinghe, answer another..."

The reporters rushed forward to continue interviewing him, at which point Senior Brother Wang, who had tagged along, played a monumental role.

"Sorry, coming through! My employer is no longer taking any interviews. Mind your manners!"

Fair-haired, pale-skinned, tall in stature, and speaking in a stern tone, Charlie Wang acted as an intimidating roadblock that actually made many reporters hesitate and step back.

They halted outside the barrier and whispered among themselves.

"Who is that? Fang Xinghe's manager?"

"Did Fang Xinghe sign with an American agency?"

"Can't be, right? The guy speaks Chinese..."

"This kid is getting increasingly outrageous. Unconventional and non-conformist—words can't even describe him."

"Hiss... Don't push, don't push. What if he really is an American?"

Fang Xinghe smoothly squeezed his way out of the crowd, a chuckle bubbling up inside him.

*Borrowing the barbarians' superior skills to control the barbarians,* transformed by him into *hiring the barbarians' laborers to control the domestic front*—his bottom line was flexible and his train of thought delightfully eccentric. How could that not be considered a success?

When one lacked the strength to fight against the era, one should diligently leverage every favorable condition to actively grow and develop.

When one possessed the strength to fight back, one should flip the script and beat the crap out of them.

And when one's strength completely overwhelmed the opposition, there was no need to throw punches at all; one simply had to crook a finger: *Hey, my shoes are dirty.*

That was the ideological core of Taoism—a genuine, ancestral craft that worked in any era.

If you don't believe me, go check the texts; the ancestors really did teach it this way...