From street tabloids to the first newspaper of the Republic of China

"Counterattack."

"Now?"

"Right now, it's a target delivered to my door, might as well take it. I don't like to hold back my anger overnight."

Lin Wangzheng sat down, his pen tip hovering above the paper, not in a hurry to write.

The ink splattered onto the rough manuscript paper with a "plop," instantly spreading and staining the paper in spots.

He was conceiving.

Setting aside its style, rhetoric, and other formal aspects, Xue Dake's article is, in terms of content, a typical official document.

It uses the logic of the imperial court, speaks the principles of the imperial court, and serves the interests of the imperial court.

This kind of writing has a market among traditional scholars, but not among ordinary people.

Because ordinary people don't understand "Confucius wrote the Spring and Autumn Annals," they don't understand "Guanzi governed Qi," they don't understand "the sparrow mocks the roc," they only know one thing—

When the emperor was alive, I went hungry; now that the emperor is gone, I still go hungry.

Whether there is an emperor or not, what does that have to do with me?

Xue Dake wouldn't write it that way, not because he couldn't, but because he didn't want to, because writing it that way would be tantamount to admitting a fact—

Ordinary people don't care who becomes emperor; they only care about whether they can have enough to eat.

This fact is precisely the most fatal weakness in the attempt to restore feudalism.

Who are you to dare abstain from your rights on behalf of the people?

A title line fell smoothly.

Shen Zishi exclaimed "Whoa!" and stood beside him, watching him write the opening, reading it aloud as he wrote:

"I happened to read Chief Editor Xue's magnificent article. His words were full of loyalty, and his erudition was profound. I admire him greatly. However, after finishing the book, I felt there was something about it. It was not the smell of ink, but rather like the fur coat that had been left un-dried for three years in the study of a Qing Dynasty prince. It looked shiny, but smelled of a stale, servile air."

"Hahaha! You're insulting someone without using any swear words!"

Lin Wangzheng ignored his incompetent uncle and continued writing.

"You said that 'the will of the people cannot choose the form of government,' and that we must wait for a 'wise and capable ruler' to settle the matter. This sounds familiar. Three hundred years ago, when Li Zicheng broke through Beiping, the eunuchs around Emperor Chongzhen probably said the same thing in their tearful remonstrance. Unfortunately, history does not recognize this: without that 'accidental' shot on the walls of Wuchang, you would probably be kneeling before Emperor Xuantong today."

"You may look down on this 'popular sentiment,' yet it can still overthrow the throne; you may call this 'trend' a 'mob,' yet it has flowed from London to Paris, from Washington to Tokyo. You may cover your ears and curse the cicada for not knowing the seasons, but autumn will eventually come, and it will not stop with human will."

Shen Zishi couldn't help but lean over to take a look, reading aloud as he went.

"That's a really harsh statement!"

"Why write harshly if not to amuse him?"

Lin Wangzheng retorted, his pen still moving.

[You praise "orderly succession to the monarchy," and laugh at "co-governance elections as a chaotic free-for-all." Yes, Emperor Kangxi reigned for sixty-one years, and his nine sons fought a bloody struggle for the throne—what a fine example of "order"! President Yuan once said, "I will never allow a monarchy to exist in China again," and today he sends you to do everything in your power to imply "the Mandate of Heaven"—where is that "order"?]

[Was it in Chief of Staff Duan's Beiyang Army, in General Feng's military seal, or in a secret telegram from a foreign minister? Don't overcomplicate the matter.]

Shen Zishi's eyelids twitched as he watched from the side.

Lin Wangzheng slowed down as he pondered how to refute Xue Dake's accusations against "public wisdom."

He is using traditional ethics to suppress progressive ideas. Directly refuting this easily leads to falling into the trap of "tradition vs. modernity" and "East vs. West," which is a methodology of historical idealism.

This kind of binary opposition makes it impossible to clarify anything.

【The most absurd thing is your heartfelt condemnation of "schools corrupting the youth." A girl showing her arm is considered "the collapse of propriety," and students discussing national affairs are seen as "disobeying their fathers and brothers"—this is nothing more than viewing new ideas through the lens of old moral codes. According to your logic, Washington should have stayed home and obediently grown grapes. Editor Xue, the *Asia Daily* you read this morning was printed with lead type; the rickshaw you ride in is made with Western machinery. These machines can be made, but the "people's intelligence" just can't learn them? Do you want the people's minds to forever remain in a kowtow position, so that "wise men" like yourself can forever think for them?】

This isn't refuting Xue Dake's arguments, but rather exposing the true nature of "elitism"—

You say the common people don't understand, so you have to make decisions for them. But have you ever considered that the reason the common people don't understand is precisely because you never let them understand?

Shen Zishi understood the weight of those words and repeatedly exclaimed in amazement at their power.

[You praise Dr. Gu as "insightful of current affairs" and criticize us as "sympathizers of overseas rebels." Coincidentally, Dr. Gu's homeland, the United States, emerged from chaos under British rule. Even more coincidentally, Dr. Gu's ship ticket from the US to China was paid for by the government. This "purely righteous act" truly shines with its purity.]

[You also said that "tariff autonomy can only be achieved through international recognition." Yes, it is "autonomy," but the huge loan secured by these tariff guarantees would have enough interest to build fifty Hanyang Ironworks. This business is truly shrewd!]

Shen Zishi was somewhat puzzled:

How do you know so much about this?

"I've calculated it."

Lin Wangzheng responded indifferently.

What else could it be? Because he's a time traveler and knows the sordid things behind the so-called "autonomous tariffs"!

[At the end, you quoted Zhuangzi, mentioning "summer insects talking about ice." However, Zhuangzi also said, "He who steals a hook is punished, he who steals a state becomes a prince." Now there are petty scoundrels who neither steal a hook nor a state, but steal only "the name of the people."]

[To dismiss the right to try on behalf of 400 million people, and to assert that 5,000 years of history can only follow the old path. This skill of "stealing" is true learning.]

[Finally, here's a blunt truth for you: the most accurate line in your article is "at this critical juncture of survival and extinction." However, in this "autumn," some want to drag the Xia Kingdom back to the winter of the Xuantong era, while we, the "summer insects," insist on learning to sing the first note in the autumn wind.]

[Author: Na Han]

I'll stop writing here; the sun is high in the sky.

Someone was washing clothes in the alley. The washing mallet hit the stone slab with a "bang, bang, bang," just like Shen Zishi's heartbeat.

He eagerly picked up the draft and read it through from beginning to end.

He now both admires and fears Lin Wangzheng's literary talent; he admires Lin Wangzheng's literary talent, but he also fears it.

The most terrifying thing is that he can immediately pick up his pen and throw himself into the next battle when everyone is praising his article.

Could Chen Huasheng do it?

I doubt it will work.

"For this piece, please open a reader's letter section on the page and publish it as a reader's letter. Add a disclaimer stating 'This does not represent the views of the editorial department of this newspaper.'"

"Anyway, everyone knows that I wrote it, but by doing this, whatever happens afterward won't affect me. It also minimizes the impact. The readers outside know that we didn't back down, and the guys in Beiping have received a response and can no longer refute it."

Lin Wangzheng wasn't stupid. He wouldn't dare use the name of the Strange News Report and wait for the secret agents to come and check the water meter in this situation, so he simply resorted to strategy.

Shen Zishi nodded:

"I almost thought you were about to break off all relations, and I was trying to persuade you."

Lin Wangzheng leaned back in his chair, gazing at the plaque above his bed, and calmly said:

"Sooner or later, things will fall apart."

Shen Zishi asked:

"What will you do then?"

Lin Wangzheng blurted out:

"With the most fierce attitude, we will silence all those who dare to object; we will not refuse any attacks, ridicule, or insults, even if it means losing our heads and shedding blood."

Shen Zishi was stunned by these words.

In Lin Wangzheng, he saw the shadows of many journalists, and even the shadows of his own youth.

"Uncle, are you scared?"

Lin Wangzheng suddenly asked.

Shen Zishi paused for a moment, then smiled:

"How could I not be afraid of going against the government... We've come this far, we have to do it even if we're afraid."