Entertainment: 1990

Chapter 184 Stirring a hornet's nest

a few days later.

Zhao Mingyi, carrying several magazines, returned to the small courtyard where Black Panther was temporarily staying.

Seeing lead singer Luan Shu and bassist Wang Wenjie drowning their sorrows in alcohol in the living room, Zhao Mingyi spread out one of the magazines on the coffee table, pointed at the faces under the yellow parasol, and said, "Look at Zhang Yan, so full of vigor, and then look at the two of you—if you keep going like this, I think you shouldn't even go to the frontier, you'll all just end up soaking in alcohol jars!"

Luan Shu peeked out and saw that the magazine's title read, "From Morgue to Coronation—Industry Trembles: He Rewrites the Rules!"

"屮!"

Luan Shu couldn't help but swear, downing the remaining half-ounce of baijiu in one gulp. He exhaled a breath of stale air and said, "When we first met, Zhang Yan couldn't even read a full sheet of music, right? And now, only two years later, he's about to be crowned emperor?!"

Luan Shu didn't have any complaints about Zhang Yan, but he couldn't accept the gap between reality and expectations.

It's one thing if he can't compare to Dou Wei—that grandson does have some talent—but Zhang Yan didn't even know how to read sheet music two years ago, yet now he's being touted as the emperor of the music world…

At this moment, Wang Wenjie picked up one of the magazines, pointed to it and said, "Isn't there another one criticizing him? Let me take a look. 'The Feudal Ignorance Behind Petty Calculations - Exposing the New Era's Court Writers,' Zhang Yan, a newly promoted writer of the Tianjin Writers Association, was originally an employee of an official newspaper in Hebei. One day... This doesn't seem to have anything to do with our music circle."

Zhao Mingyi took it and glanced at it, scratching his head and saying, "I bought it because I saw Zhang Yan's picture on it—who did Zhang Yan offend? Magazines rarely name names and curse people like this."

As he spoke, Zhao Mingyi flipped through the text again and found that it attributed Zhang Yan's path to fame to his constant engagement with feudal dregs and his flattery of officials.

A sycophant like him, who rose to power without keeping his own hands clean, dares to jump out and criticize others' flaws; it's utterly ridiculous.

As a young writer under 30, he lacked any of the vigor that young people should have; instead, he exuded a sense of decay.

They even attempted to confuse the public by picking apart phrases and focusing on trivialities, thus hindering the Chinese people's pursuit of freedom and preventing them from seeing the world. By whitewashing the situation and creating public opinion, they painted a self-deceiving picture of the world!

"That's really insulting without using any vulgar language."

After reading it, Zhao Mingyi clicked his tongue and said, "How exactly did Zhang Yan offend someone? Did he dig up their ancestral grave?"

"Quite the contrary."

At this moment, Guo Chuanlin's voice came from the doorway: "Zhang Yan can't stand their worship of foreign things and their forgetting of their own heritage. In order to curry favor with foreigners, they make up all sorts of things in their articles and dare to write anything nonsense."

A few days ago, Zhang Yan wrote a commentary exposing all their fabrications, which stirred up a hornet's nest—and that was the best-case scenario; some newspapers were even harsher and more vulgar in their criticism!

"Wow, our Brother Zhang is pretty brave!"

Luan Shu clicked his tongue and said, "Why would he do something like this for no reason? Besides, foreign countries are indeed developed, even Hong Kong is more developed than the mainland..."

"Alright, alright!"

Guo Chuanlin quickly raised his hand to interrupt him, saying, "Don't say these things in front of Zhang Yan—hurry up and get ready, the evening paper reporters want to interview you and Zhang Yan this afternoon, that's what I came for."

Everyone perked up upon hearing this. They hadn't been organizing any activities here; they were just trying to capitalize on Zhang Yanhe's support for Xinjiang and promote their plans to return to the mainland.

So they all started getting ready and washing up, putting the arguments in the magazines behind them.

…………

the other side.

Zhang Yan was also preparing for the afternoon's interview.

"I may not have anything else, but I have plenty of dirt on the Americans!" Feng Xiaogang, who had just returned to China, patted his increasingly thin chest and said, "I'm seething with anger and just want to vent it out!"

Although the initial purpose of contacting the Beijing Evening News was to coordinate with the publicity for Black Panther's return, ever since Zhang Yan stirred up a hornet's nest among public intellectuals, the Evening News has been demanding that more interview content be included in this regard.

So Zhang Yan came to Feng Xiaogang for advice.

Seeing Lao Feng's eager look, Zhang Yan laughed and said, "Brother Feng, why don't we do an interview together? It'll be a good opportunity to promote 'A Beijing Native in New York' for you."

"This..." Feng Xiaogang hesitated for a moment, then shook his head and said, "Let's forget it. The Americans are indeed scoundrels, but they're also incredibly rich—I'm telling you, I once found a working Apple computer in a garbage dump."
In China, people would practically worship this thing, but the Americans…”

"Stop it, stop it!"

Zhang Yan quickly interrupted him, saying, "I asked you to expose some dirt on me, not to boast about American imperialism."

"Isn't this extravagance and waste also a black mark?"

As Feng Xiaogang spoke, he couldn't help but tease him, half-jokingly, "I thought I was already pretty awesome for being able to go to the United States to film a TV series, but I didn't expect you to be crowned emperor in China."

"That's all nonsense. Have you ever seen anyone ascend the throne by standing on a wooden box? That umbrella is the 'Umbrella of the People.' A young man from the Central Academy of Drama came up with this ingenious idea in his hometown of Urumqi in order to get people to sign a petition to hold a rock concert."

Zhang Yan was also having this headache. The public intellectuals were already attacking him with their feudal ignorance and government-employed literati rhetoric, and then somehow the photos of his speech that day were leaked to the media.

That's good, the next wave of artillery fire will probably be even more intense.

Forget it, what's one more problem than another, and what's one more debt than another? I'd better hurry up and collect some dirt on the Americans.

To be fair, Feng Xiaogang's experience of picking up trash in the US was worthwhile; he learned a lot about the lives of people in America's lower classes.

However, Zhang Yan was also astonished by the American welfare system. It seemed that the homeless at the bottom of society were better off in terms of food and drink than working families in China. No wonder so many people look up to the lighthouse.

Zhang Yan had a headache. Should he use subtle wording to modify it? Otherwise, the scandal wouldn't be as bad as it seemed. But if he used subtle wording, how would he be any different from those public intellectuals?
If they find something to use against us, it will really become a joke.

Forget it, let's just come up with some new words!
Below the negative information, Zhang Yan solemnly wrote three large characters: "Patriotic ZEI".

"WTF?"

Feng Xiaogang craned his neck, puzzled, and asked, "What kind of logic is this? How does being patriotic make you a thief?"

"If you find it strange, the media must be curious too."

Zhang Yan smiled but didn't elaborate. He reached out and pressed the bottle in Feng Xiaogang's hand, saying, "Alright, I have an interview this afternoon. If you get me drunk, how am I supposed to debate with everyone?"

"What about tonight?"

Feng Xiaogang said, "Jiang Wen has been itching to meet you for a long time. How about I treat you tonight and invite Ge You, so the four of us can sit at one table?"

"Tomorrow."

Zhang Yan said, "Zhang Yimou asked me to talk about the movie script tonight."

"Old Zhang Yimou?!"

Upon hearing this, Feng Xiaogang grabbed Zhang Yan's arm: "Your script caught Zhang Yimou's eye? No, are we still buddies?! With such a great script, why didn't you think of me?!"

Seeing that he was getting anxious, Zhang Yan quickly explained, "It's not my script, it's a novel by one of my buddies that was adapted into a screenplay—he's inexperienced, so he asked me to help him with his ideas. Tonight I'm just a supporting character, my buddy is the main character."

Feng Xiaogang then gave up, but muttered that Zhang Yan should never forget him if he got a good script in the future.

"I do have a notebook here."

Zhang Yan shrugged and said, "But it's a TV drama script, and it definitely needs investment from Tianjin TV. Are you sure you dare to get involved?"

"I……"

Feng Xiaogang gritted his teeth, but finally said dejectedly, "I wouldn't dare. This whole Tianjin affair of stealing someone else's lover is probably going to take at least three to five years to get over."

Not long ago, the August 1st Film and Television Base officially announced its establishment in Tianjin—this is largely due to Zhang Yan's suggestion to rehire veteran teachers to run a school, since a fortress is always easier to breach from within.

(End of this chapter)