Generation Z Artists

Chapter 139 Fang Xinghe's Tide

"Ashiba..."

The reporters at the scene looked at each other, extremely agitated, some even blushing.

What does it feel like?
It's hard to describe.

Fang Xinghe's explanation was not merely a form of humiliation—it certainly felt humiliating, with such a large object poking into one's lungs—but its core purpose was not humiliation.

Or we can look at it in layers.

In terms of attitude, Fang Xinghe demonstrated an objective and rational willingness to communicate, with a very flexible demeanor and a very humble posture.

How did they carry out such a massive bombing campaign in Japan?
When you come to South Korea, you start by saying "gentlemen make friends in harmony but not in the same way," and then you stop by saying "quietly leave to protect consensus." You've already lowered your stance so much, how can you still have the nerve to attack them?

All of Fang Xinghe's statements are public, and the South Korean public can easily see the difference. This difference in attitude fully demonstrates his goodwill.

But judging from the content, Fang Ge's scathing comments are really hard to resist.

The truth is the most hurtful, and the truth that speaks from a high vantage point is even more hurtful. When the truth is thrown in the face under the guise of "cultural exchange," it's not just a matter of whether it hurts or not; it's about suppressing the entire audience, leaving people angry but unable to speak out.

The Chosun Ilbo reporter opened his mouth, but ultimately uttered nothing.

He felt he was no longer worthy of "debating" with Fang Xinghe. His thinking wasn't at that level, and if he continued to argue, he would easily be made a fool of and eventually become a sinner against South Korea.

He subconsciously shifted his gaze to the right, his pleading eyes locking onto the core area... where stood Li Yuning, former Minister of Culture, essayist, literary critic, and current Deputy Editor-in-Chief of the Central Daily News.

Sir!

Fang Xinghe is treating us like fools, humiliating us to our heart's content. I have no other choice but to beg you to step in!
At the same time, many people, like him, looked over expectantly.

Feeling the intense gazes directed at him, Li Yuning silently stood up, raised the microphone, and spoke in clear and fluent Chinese.

“Fang Xinghe xi.

I am Li Yuning. I dare not call myself a gentleman, but I am happy to have a discussion and exchange with you in the spirit of harmony despite our differences.

On the issue of cultural independence, I resonate deeply with you. I have always firmly advocated building national identity through traditional culture (such as Korean script and folk art) and criticizing blind Westernization.

After reading your article, I was overjoyed and published it in the newspaper, strongly advocating for it and vehemently defending your "appendix" offense.

However, regarding policy towards Japan, I feel that you overemphasize historical reckoning, which may divide society.

Of course, given your age, I can completely understand your passion and radicalism. We will reserve our opinions on this issue and discuss it in more detail in the future.

Today I mainly want to talk to you about the core of culture and the roots of a nation.

Your assessment of "Journey to the West" is thought-provoking. The difference in popularity of such a classic masterpiece between South Korea and Japan truly reflects the fundamental differences in cultural characteristics.

However, attributing the cause to our national policy and subtly criticizing President Park's move to abolish the use of Chinese characters is hardly convincing.

Korean is a very clear, concise, and fluent language. It has problems and flaws, but it also has advantages that Chinese cannot match.

Do you think it will lead to a cultural deficiency? I disagree.

Li Yuning was a very dignified old man, possessing both an imposing presence and a nonchalant, rigid nature. His gentle tone and rhythm carried an air of refined composure.

This is actually quite rare in South Korea.

Fang Xinghe realized from the media's reaction that this was a very prestigious cultural leader.

Just by looking at their demeanor, you can tell they're not easy to deal with.

But so what?

Your brother Fang is taking on the elite!
Especially on the issue of abolishing Chinese characters, Fang Xinghe dared to challenge anyone.

Throughout modern Korean history, the most far-reaching and significant cultural policy was the abolition of Chinese characters, without exception.

The average South Korean citizen at the bottom of society found this hard to understand, but in later generations, various international relations experts and Asian cultural elites have generally placed the impact of abolishing Chinese characters before the presence of US troops in their analyses of South Korea.

Mold has many habitats in Asia, including Japan, Singapore, the Philippines, and all over Southeast Asia.

However, which country lost its own culture as a result?

Which country has caused the distortion of its entire national character due to the presence of troops stationed there?

Which country ultimately produced a cult leader president and a president who fawns over jokes?

No, other families are perfectly normal. Although they are politically suppressed and economically constrained, they can generally maintain a high degree of independence in terms of culture.

Only South Korea is making things worse.

The root cause was the abolition of Chinese characters and the use of the extremely immature Hangul script.

Extreme immaturity is a very important factor.

Fang Xinghe planned to start from this point.

He straightened his expression and spoke solemnly.

"Mr. Lee, I disagree with your view that Korean is a very clear, concise, and fluent language."

Before going to South Korea, I spent some time learning and getting to know the Korean language.

To be fair, as a purely phonetic script, Korean has a very scientific and logically clear system design, making it extremely easy to learn.

For example, the letter shapes correspond to the movements of the speech organs (such as "" simulating the tongue tip touching the upper gum to produce the /n/ sound), which is simple and easy to understand. Then, by mastering the basic letters (24), one can spell all Korean words, resulting in a literacy rate of 98% in South Korea, far exceeding that of China at present.

As Fang Xinghe spoke, he pressed his tongue against his upper teeth and produced a standard "".

This caused a gasp of amazement from the entire audience.

The Chosun Ilbo reporter was shocked and filled with emotion—damn, he really knows it, he really learned it, he's really crazy!
Thankfully, it wasn't me who went up against him. This guy is incredibly talented, he's fucking terrifying!
The media outlets shared a similar sentiment: they felt Fang Xinghe was nothing short of an animal. Everything he said was based on evidence, reason, and insight, rather than mere fabrication.

The room fell silent as everyone strained to listen attentively to Fang Xinghe's explanation.

This high regard is not due to his achievements, but entirely because of his knowledge.

Fang Xinghe continued to speak eloquently.

"But at the same time, Korean has all the defects of all phonemic writing systems."

For example, due to the inherent limitations of homophones, a significant portion of words must be resolved through context.

Therefore, even though you have legally abolished the use of Chinese characters, you still have to use a mixture of Chinese characters and words to make precise expressions.

I don't need to provide examples; they're everywhere.

Secondly, in terms of limitations in historical and academic expression, Korean ranks among the top in the world.

High-level academic and legal texts need to rely on Chinese characters to improve accuracy, right?

I even suspect that this is an educational segregation imposed on ordinary people by the privileged class. Ordinary people in South Korea are completely unable to cultivate their children's Chinese writing skills, making it impossible for students from poor families to enter high-income, high-status industries such as law, academia, and finance, which greatly exacerbates the stratification of South Korean society.

This is really sad.

Furthermore, writing solely in Korean weakens the connection with classical texts. Ordinary young people in your country cannot read history books or develop a historical perspective, and the risk of a break in historical and cultural continuity is rapidly increasing. Just a few days ago in Japan, I saw an article urgently addressing this issue, which gave me a deeper understanding of your country's cultural turmoil.

Gentlemen, I would like to offer a perspective solely from the standpoint of exchange, for your consideration only—

Language and writing are not merely tools for daily communication; on a higher level, they are the core of culture, and on an even higher level, they are the foundation of national spirit.

If you find the term 'national spirit' difficult to understand, you can simply imagine this: there are two 3-year-old children who grow up to be 18 years old under the same external variables.

One of them learns and uses complex language systems to understand the world.

Another approach is to use simple pinyin to understand the world.

How big will the difference be in the thinking abilities cultivated in this way?
But that's not even the point. The real factor that leads to such a completely different spiritual core is that children who use Chinese don't need to deliberately learn it; they can resonate with the source of civilization in their daily lives without even realizing it.

We can easily assume that this resonance is meaningless before the age of 18, or even 30.

But at some point in his middle age, he may suddenly realize where his roots are, where his bloodline comes from, and where his soul belongs, and then understand that "it is not like the carefree days of youth" and "how cruel is the heavens to me", and ultimately become an ordinary yet extraordinary denominator of the nation.

This is not enlightenment, nor is it mysterious at all. It is simply the gradual accumulation and eventual release of the rich heritage of civilization, a philosophical self-positioning and cultural awakening.

However, for the people of your country, they will never have such an opportunity, nor will they have the possibility of cultural awakening.

Mr. Li, I believe you can fully understand the melancholy and loneliness of "How cruel is Heaven to me?", but can the youth of your country still appreciate the profound integration of Buddhism and Confucianism in Mr. Jin Wanzhong's "Nine Cloud Dream"?

From now on, will only the descendants of tycoons be qualified to appreciate and interpret your national classics?
In fact, during the Qing Dynasty in China, when your country insisted on using the Chinese language, firmly believed that you were a continuation of the Ming Dynasty, and considered yourself a "Little China," Koreans had a strong sense of self-identity and extremely high national resilience.

Since abolishing Chinese characters, a corner of South Korea has collapsed—its national historical perspective has been permanently severed, and mythological and fictional historical perspectives have begun to prevail.

Young people cannot understand their own history, nor can they feel the subtle influence of civilization, so they can only accept Westernization.

The cost is that national consensus is becoming increasingly fake, and national identity is becoming increasingly skewed.

That book, "History of the Great Korean Empire," which is entirely a fantasy novel, has actually been adapted into a history textbook, "History of National Education." I don't know what you think of this, but I find it both laughable and pathetic.

I respect you, so I'll stop here.

Returning to the writing system, the scientific nature and ease of use of the Korean alphabet as a phonetic script have made it one of the most efficient writing systems in the world, significantly promoting the popularization of education and technological development in South Korea.

However, its homophonic ambiguity and limitations in historical expression also expose the inherent shortcomings of phonetic writing systems.

In fact, you and the cultural elites of South Korean society are well aware of the solution to this problem—similar to Japan, while maintaining the advantages of phonetics, we can balance accuracy through the combined use of a limited number of Chinese characters and words, and in the future, we will definitely be able to adapt to the evolution of speech and the needs of globalization.

But only a very few conscientious scholars dare to advocate for this, and I know why, as you know. So, it's up to you to decide whether we should continue this conversation.

Li Yuning was drenched in sweat.

The media professionals were trembling.

Fang Xinghe's final, seemingly casual question was like a fatal blow, shattering all of Li Yuning's resistance.

From a purely debating perspective, he is far from ready to admit defeat.

Fang Xinghe's logic is rigorous enough, but it is not completely flawless. Fang Xinghe's exposition is insightful and well-structured, but it is not entirely beyond question.

The issue is……

This isn't a debate, this is a table-flipping exercise.

Dad! We can't talk about what happened next!
In all of Asia, there are only two unique cases of national identity being altered because of writing: North and South Korea.

The core reason is to protect the legitimacy of the ruling regime.

It's not convenient to go into too much detail about the one in the north, but the one in the south is almost a standard example of how writing influences the core of culture. Ironically, while scholars from neighboring countries have basically determined the essential reason, they themselves stubbornly refuse to admit it.

Even now, in 2000, some voices criticizing the policy of abolishing Chinese characters still remain in academia.

Among South Korea's middle-aged elites, some are still able to use Chinese fluently in speaking, listening, reading, and writing. Since 1948, the last group of people who received elite Chinese education was lost in the 70s, almost to the twilight of their generation.

Therefore, over the next thirty years, South Korean society will become increasingly surreal and incomprehensible.

Are South Korean elites completely unaware of this?
It's definitely not.

How could the elite of a "country that has abolished Chinese characters" that is stubbornly continuing to use Chinese in its constitution not understand the gravity of the matter?

But they had no choice.

In addition to the cultural national policy on cerebral palsy, there is also an economic national policy that works together to address this narrow appendix.

The resulting monopoly by conglomerates is the fundamental reason why the Chinese character system cannot be restarted.

Even mentioning this matter is a crime.

Fang Xinghe's timing in offering a subtle critique of this fundamental national policy has truly hit a nerve with the South Korean media.

However, compared to the pain of being pricked in the yolk, the consequences of continuing the conversation are almost equivalent to squeezing the egg white out through the needle hole—that's not just painful, that could be fatal.

After a few seconds of silence, Li Yuning bowed solemnly, sat down silently, and made no further response.

This silence can be interpreted as admitting defeat, or it can be interpreted as the curtain falling.

Therefore, everyone present understood that Fang Xinghe had completely taken control of the situation and had also secured victory.

He used numerous details to demonstrate his deep understanding of Korean society and culture, then casually asked: Should we continue our conversation?
In an instant, all horses fell silent.

Both left-wing and right-wing media have fallen silent.

South Korea is a society very different from Japan. Their left and right wings are not truly opposed in terms of ideology, but rather are internal divisions that lie beneath the chaebols (conglomerates).

Now, Fang Xinghe wields a cultural sword that can be used to strike his chaebol father at any time. Under the scrutiny of a large number of media outlets from China, Japan, and Southeast Asia, it seems as if he could slash a scar on South Korea's face at any moment.

What right do they have to question Fang Xinghe? In fact, who would dare to question Fang Xinghe anymore?
No, that's not true. Your brother Fang's decision to stop was just a polite gesture; you have to accept it.

After trembling for a while, the media suddenly started acting cute and silly, wagging their tails and begging for favors.

"Fang Xinghe, your thoughts..."

"Fang Xinghe, your guidance..."

“Fang Xinghe xi…”

On his first day in South Korea, Fang Xinghe delivered a harsh blow to the South Korean media.

He didn't conquer anyone, but the Koreans were afraid.

He didn't unleash his attack power recklessly, and that's why when he gently raised his hand, it instilled fear in people.

The arrow is on the bowstring, suspended but not released; whoever it's aimed at will panic.

Therefore, in order to win over Fang Xinghe's "friendship", the South Korean media went to great lengths.

After that day, a wave of Fang Xinghe suddenly swept through South Korean society...

(End of this chapter)