Chapter 26: The Black Tide Begins

On the first day, Old Fang read Fang Xinghe’s essay aloud in class...
Wait, scratch that. That was a nightmare. Let’s start over.
On the first day, *Mengya* sold 100,000 copies.
On the second day, word of mouth spread, and middle school students scrambled to buy it, pushing sales to 200,000 copies.
By the third day, it was nearly sold out.
On the fourth day, the first batch of 100,000 reprint copies vanished in seconds, and newsstands across the country were clamoring for more stock.
At this point, Fang Xinghe’s fan count skyrocketed to 2 million, with 18.2 million Starlight Points. A core group of supporters had clearly emerged, and there were even signs of die-hard fans appearing.
All this from just two photos, one essay, and a bit of praise from some writers. Oh, what a strange and wondrous era this is.
The new Generation Z humans are quite pleased; they’re starting to fall in love with 1999.
However, not all the news that followed was good.
After days of explosive sales and the fervent response among middle schoolers, the public discourse finally caught up, and an influx of both advocacy and criticism began.
Well, mostly criticism.
In the previous issue, Han Han hadn’t faced much criticism for a simple reason: he wasn’t controversial enough.
At that time, the young Han had not yet exposed any glaring misconduct. Looking strictly at his writing, his rebellion was of the "promising" variety—not worth targeting specifically.
Even if there were minor controversies, they were limited to debates over whether "supplementary exams were reasonable" or if "the competition format was messy." It was all surface-level, mostly overshadowed by praise for his talent.
Anyone who has ever received a "fifty-cent" payment for online commentary knows that without controversy, one-sided praise is incredibly dull and fails to generate heat.
That is why, in his past life, it wasn’t until Han Han failed all seven subjects that he triggered a massive social debate.
Right now, he has to ride on Brother Fang’s coattails.
Fang Xinghe, however, is a lightning rod for controversy.
In his essay, he wrote about being a school bully, getting into fights, inciting revenge, and openly declaring his intent to become famous and wealthy...
Each point was more than enough to write about.
Furthermore, the article touched a nerve with many parents and teachers. Li Qigang had only shared the good news, but in reality, parents were calling the *Mengya* editorial office in a fury, demanding: "How could you possibly publish such an article?!"
On the fifth day, the *Yangzi News* fired the first shot, publishing a critique titled: "Grandstanding? How Can an Essay Be Written Like This!"
The gist followed the standard playbook of the old guard: middle school essays should praise the true, the good, and the beautiful; they should not encourage students to rebel against parents and teachers, nor should they promote a hooligan-like, fake toughness. A pure campus is everyone’s responsibility.
Fang Xinghe found it hilarious, but that was simply the atmosphere of the era. The authoritarian mindset of the old generation loomed over everything; there was no way around it.

On the sixth day, the *Shangqing News* published a rebuttal: "Since It’s Called 'New Concept,' Why Can’t Essays Be Written Freely?"
On the seventh day, the "six major sects" surrounded *Shangqing*.
A reporter from the *Southern Metropolis Daily*, having somehow learned about the many parents calling *Mengya*, specifically sought out students and parents for interviews and published an in-depth report.
No one knew if the interviewees were truly as one-sided as presented, but the published content was entirely critical.
"Recently, a 'New Concept' essay has become a sensation in middle school campuses, causing an extremely intense reaction. I went with high hopes, expecting to see the youthful spirit under the philosophy of 'new ideas, new perceptions, new writing styles,' but instead, I witnessed another *Young and Dangerous*-style carnival..."
Under his pen, the interviewees were portrayed as foul-mouthed, shouting crudely that "Fang Xinghe is so dope" or "he’s f***ing awesome," worshipping him like they worshipped the gangsters in the movies—stupid, mindless, and blindly manic.
Through his "careful investigation," he discovered that the boys who worshipped Fang Xinghe were mostly poor students who didn’t study and loved to cause trouble.
The girls who liked Fang Xinghe were shallow, focused only on his looks, and had tendencies toward early romance.
Additionally, some "well-behaved children" had been subjected to significant negative influences.
The interviewed parents were, predictably, suffering from massive headaches.
Parent A complained: "Since reading that trash, my child has become increasingly disobedient. He always talks back, and if things don't go his way, he yells at me. Just look at this trend!"
Parent B was emotional: "What kind of person is that author? Was he raised by wolves with no manners?"
The reporter noted: "I quickly reminded the other party to be more tactful, feeling that one shouldn't attack the author directly, as student Fang Xinghe is, indeed, an orphan."
The mother quickly apologized: "Oh, oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... but adolescent children are rebellious enough as it is, and he’s just pouring gasoline on the fire with his reckless writing. He actually treats being a good fighter as an honor? I don't think he’s a good student or a good role model."
Parent C was unhappy but remained rational and objective:
"In places where economic development is slow, social customs are inevitably rougher. Boys fighting might indeed be common. I don't think we need to blow this out of proportion; we should look at it objectively. The article actually provides an alternative perspective, prompting us to reflect on whether there are indeed such educational deficits. Of course, we all know that the developed southern regions are far more civilized, but we must take this as a warning..."
In short, the entire report might as well have been pointing a finger at Fang Xinghe’s nose, though the reporter didn't do the insulting himself—he remained "fair" by letting the parents do the attacking.
As for whether any parents actually spoke like that... it was all baseless.
Fang Xinghe curled his lip in disdain, sneering at his contemporaries from that era.
Is that all they’ve got?
However, because the *Southern Metropolis Daily* had such a massive circulation, the report did indeed cause him significant negative impact.
The direct result was that sales of the May issue of *Mengya* suddenly slowed down.
It wasn’t that the students had an issue with him; it was that the price of 4.80 yuan wasn't cheap. Average students couldn't afford it out of pocket and had to beg their families to buy it for them.
But with the media crusade, *New Concept*, Fang Xinghe, and *Mengya* had all become famous, and many parents were no longer willing to foot the bill.
Li Qigang was so furious he beeped him eight times a day, but Fang couldn't be bothered to return a single one.

Fang Xinghe didn't care about such things at all. If you want to stand out, why fear being scolded?
Besides, he had seen plenty of internet trolls who twisted facts and called white black; this was nothing compared to what he was used to.
In reality, none of the objective criticisms, subjective smears, or even speculative slanders from any media outlet had truly struck at Fang Xinghe's weak spot.
Yes, his reputation among the newspaper-reading demographic had become quite poor; middle-aged parents generally didn't like him.
But the problem is... what on earth is the value of the approval of the middle-aged demographic?
President Fang had never wanted that in the first place.
In the fan culture of the future, there was an incredibly objective and realistic code of conduct: the middle-aged are the least worth pandering to; never waste your time on them.
Their worldviews are set in stone and extremely difficult to change. They are busy with work and life, they don't generate data, and they don't buy endorsements. Only a tiny fraction of wealthy women have any value, and they don't need to be pandered to—if they like you, they naturally will.
So, just shine on your own and maintain a baseline of respect—that's enough.
As for Fang Xinghe, he didn't even want to give them that.
The middle-aged of this era, born in the 50s and 60s, held rigid and conservative views, making them even less valuable than the "new middle-aged" of the internet age.
Fang Xinghe was in his prime growth period; focusing entirely on winning over the youth was the key. The Starlight Points generated by one hundred middle-aged people weren't worth a single young girl's interest. Why bother?
Let them scold him all they want; just treat it as "fan tempering." It’s good for them.
As for the so-called "public favor" and "national recognition"... isn't that just mild goodwill that hasn't reached the level of fandom?
Professionals know that whether national recognition is useful depends on what route you want to take.
In any case, Fang Xinghe didn't need it right now. By the time he did, his fans would have grown up and become the pillars of society, and his national recognition would come naturally.
That was exactly how Liu Yifei achieved her immense national popularity.
She didn't film a drama for over a decade, starred in one flop movie a year, yet remained a top-tier celebrity upon her return. Even when she gained weight, she remained at the top because her screen image from her youth was truly iconic—no amount of paid trolls could erase that.
Once that generation of young viewers gained influence, her image as the "white moonlight" was set in stone; she didn't need to do anything at all.
Therefore, some things require tireless effort, while others need not be forced.
Fang Xinghe smiled and buried his head back into the sea of test questions. As it turned out, however, the situation began to develop in an increasingly surreal direction.