Huayu: From charlatan to great entertainer

Chapter 462 "A Proclamation Against Pigs" (Bonus chapter for the author "What's Missing")
What is a typical day in the life of a university professor?
Especially Zhu Dake, a Tongji University professor who has both academic and media accolades?

In addition to his roles as a professor and doctoral supervisor at the Institute of Critical Culture, School of Humanities, Tongji University;

This literary critic, who rose to prominence by stepping on Xie Jin during a specific historical period, was named one of the "50 Chinese People Who Will Influence the Future of the World" by Phoenix Magazine in 2006, and was also selected as one of the "100 Chinese Public Intellectuals of the Year" by Politics Right and Economy Left.

In this era, the latter is still a positive term and has not yet been stigmatized by the bad apples, but that day doesn't seem too far away.

In fact, the birth and popularity of Weibo was the trigger.

In the internet age, pseudo-public intellectuals use the guise of caring about public issues to pursue their own private interests, and their words and actions have aroused public dissatisfaction and questioning.

At the same time, they regard themselves as spokespeople for truth and force their way into the discourse as authorities of knowledge. However, due to the limitations of their academic disciplines, they find it difficult to maintain an objective and comprehensive understanding of all public issues. This mentality of cultural legislators has also aroused public resentment.

Professor Zhu, an intellectual who was riding high on success, got up at 6:30 in the morning.

He grew up in a scholarly family; his father was a history teacher at a middle school in Pudong and also a member of a democratic party.
His mother was a music teacher and the one who inspired his interest in art and film. Both of them were very strict with him, and getting up early to read was a strict family rule.

However, Zhu Dake was quite intelligent from a young age. By the age of twelve or thirteen, he had read all the books in his parents' school library, and he especially liked history and literature.

At 6:30, he was writing diligently in his study at home, with the manuscript of "An Introduction to Cultural Criticism Theory" and densely annotated academic journals scattered on his desk.

Having grown up in Shanghai, Professor Zhu developed a habit of drinking coffee when he was young. However, as he has gotten older and his blood pressure has risen, he now spends most of his early mornings working with a cup of tea.

He was revising his lecture notes for the day, which focused on "The Dilemma of Chinese Cultural Identity in the Context of Globalization," a topic he also taught at the Tongji University School of Humanities.

The word "road wide" was frequently seen on the computer screen, clearly indicating that the professor was about to bring someone into his class.

Logically speaking, how do you gain a psychological advantage over wealthy people? Of course, by talking about cultural identity.

However, Mr. Lu's cultural background and artistic achievements are far superior, so Zhu Dake has no psychological advantage.

Then let's look at their educational background!

As a doctoral supervisor, it's not incongruous for me to use a graduate student from Beijing Film Academy as a sample for theoretical research, is it?

Zhu Dake continued writing for over an hour, then felt a little dizzy. He slowly stood up and stretched and moved his cervical and lumbar spine.

Human blood pressure fluctuates between day and night, and most patients with hypertension experience a "morning peak," where blood pressure rises rapidly upon waking up in the morning.

Professor Zhu is over fifty years old and in relatively good health, but his high blood pressure is a rather troublesome condition that requires careful maintenance and management.

He stretched for a while, then returned to his computer, opened a webpage, and quickly browsed the messages and comments left by netizens without any expression.

Zhu Dake scrolled the mouse wheel, and the foul language on the screen flowed across his glasses like sewage.

He took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and a mocking smile appeared on his lips.

These ant-like curses didn't even deserve to anger him. What truly irritated him was the ever-silent opponent, like a chess player caressing a chess piece on an empty board, or a hunting dog barking wildly at the void.

He needs a wide-ranging response, not for victory or defeat, but to prove that his criticism is sharp enough to warrant the opponent drawing their sword.

From the perspective of gaining attention and elevating his own status, Professor Zhu also needs to engage in dialogue with an opponent like Boss Lu, who possesses cultural capital of equal caliber, in order to confirm his authoritative position in the cultural field through "high-level dialogue."

The superficial comments from ordinary netizens can no longer satisfy his need to show off his intelligence.

Unfortunately, over the years, Lu Kuan seemed to have received a warning from the No. 1379 eavesdropper in "The Three-Body Problem".

Do not respond. No response.

Professor Zhu glanced at the time; the nanny was still making breakfast. Bored, he looked back at his manifesto from a week ago, feeling quite pleased with himself.

This mentality is like habitually looking back after defecating, or like a criminal returning to the scene of a crime.

Although it didn't escalate much in the end—after all, the world's praise for the Olympic opening ceremony was remarkably unanimous—it doesn't diminish his commendable courage to stage a controversy the very next day.

Even though he didn't particularly like the so-called "江湖气" (jianghu qi, a kind of chivalrous spirit), there was a saying he felt perfectly described his independent intellectual spirit—

It is in turbulent times that true heroes emerge.

The Chinese literary and academic circles need lone heroes like him, especially after his old friend Lao Lu was killed by his son two years ago, he felt even more isolated.

Two years ago, in the Taro and his son incident, even the mastermind behind it all, Boss Lu's henchman Dong Shuangqiang, was a figure shrouded in secrecy. How could Zhu Dake possibly know the truth? (Chapters 317 and 318)
If we're talking about who's been fueling the fire on the surface, Huayi, which held the press conference, is the real culprit.

Professor Zhu looked at the concepts of "patriarchy in the entertainment industry" and "hegemony in the film industry" that he had proposed, and couldn't help but nod with a hint of reminiscence.

He was deeply proud of the "intellectual clarity and criticism" that his literary criticism always contained.

In his view, genuine literary criticism should not become an appendage to praise, but should maintain independent examination and deconstruction.

Especially during the Olympic Games, when the whole country is celebrating, someone needs to stand up and puncture the glamorous bubble of "authoritarian aesthetics".

Monday morning passed just like that for a senior intellectual, a professor at Tongji University.

After taking a short nap at noon, Zhu Dake discovered that one page of his lecture notes contained non-standard glossary entries. Instead of referring to the book, he went directly to Baidu, a popular search engine, to look them up.

Although it was summer vacation, he was going to give a lecture to the graduate students in his research group in the afternoon.

Huh?
The news that topped the Weibo trending list caught his attention.

#Liu Xiang withdraws from the Bird's Nest competition#.

At 11:54 a.m. on August 18, 2008, in the first round of the men's 110-meter hurdles preliminary round at the Beijing Olympics, Liu Xiang withdrew from the competition due to a recurrence of his old Achilles tendon injury in his right foot, leaving a dejected figure on the "Bird's Nest" track.

This event sparked huge controversy and discussion, quickly becoming the third hot topic after the opening ceremony and the wedding announcement.

Online public opinion is still mostly skeptical and critical.

Ok. . .

Sports events seem to have little to do with me.

Zhu Dake fiddled with the mouse, his eyes glancing thoughtfully at the trending topic "Liu Yifei supports Liu Xiang" on the screen.

In his previous life, in August 2012, Liu Xiang was once again plagued by injuries at the London Olympics. He insisted on hopping to the finish line on one leg, thus bringing his Olympic journey to an end.

The commentator Yang Jian, who was live streaming, said with tears in his eyes, "Goodbye, Liu Xiang!" Liu Yifei, who was filming and promoting "The Assassins" at the time, posted a message of support.

In this life, Xiao Liu was spared the collective ostracism he faced in 08 for donating too much money, and the blame-shifting and slanderous attacks by Huayi Brothers after "The Forbidden Kingdom." Having also witnessed this competition live, he was inspired to post this on his blog:
Today at the Bird's Nest, we witnessed a warrior's most difficult decision. What was harder to bear than a ruptured Achilles tendon was the weight of 13 billion eyes.

Lu Kuan empathized with the pressure Liu Xiang faced. During the filming of "The Sky of History" in 2007, he said that he hadn't smiled much for almost half a year, until he finally suffered a mental breakdown under the stress and developed dissociative aphasia.

Please remember him for raising so many national flags in the 110-meter hurdles, and please encourage this lonely figure in lane six today!

Support Liu Xiang!

Xiao Liu's Weibo posts received a lot of replies, which made Zhu Dake somewhat envious. Although he didn't think much of uneducated commoners, in the internet age, social media numbers represented a voice, and he had to fight for it.

Professor Zhu stroked his chin, deep in thought. He wondered if he could make a fuss about the relationship between Liu Yifei and Lu Kuan.
Last night he also received a phone call asking him to find an opportunity to be more in-depth and thorough in his criticism of someone.

Looking at his watch, he realized there was still some time before his afternoon classes. The quick-witted Zhu Dake swiftly wrote a brilliant essay in his mind and began typing it out.

"False Empathy Under Lacan's Mirror Theory: A Case Study of a Director's Wife's Comments on Liu Xiang's Withdrawal from the Competition"

Ms. Liu Yifei's Weibo posts are touching, yet also alarming.

Moved by her exquisite rhetoric, yet wary of the cultural manipulation hidden behind it.

She claimed to "empathize" with the situation, juxtaposing the collapse on the set of "The Sky of History" with Liu Xiang's withdrawal from the competition, as if there were some kind of tragic resonance between the two.

However, is this "empathy" truly a genuine response to individual suffering, or is it merely a carefully designed consumption of symbols?

Liu Xiang's Achilles tendon rupture was a physical injury, while Ms. Liu's "dissociative aphasia" was a psychological breakdown.

Although they seem different, they have been forged into the same commodity in the crucible of the culture industry: the spectacle of suffering being consumed.

When Ms. Liu fondly recalled her breakdown on set, did she realize that this public performance of her private trauma was precisely the "emotional raw material" that capital favored most?
One director's team was well-versed in this.

They packaged individual vulnerability as "the sensitivity of artists" and glorified collective pressure as "the weight of the times".

Ultimately, both Liu Xiang's withdrawal from the competition and Ms. Liu's silence became standardized products on the assembly line of authoritarian aesthetics.

It must be said that the life partner chosen by director Lu Kuan is exactly the same authoritarian approach as that of this art capitalist.

Finally, please allow me to quote Foucault's warning:

In modern society, power is no longer satisfied with suppression; it is more interested in production—producing subjects, emotions, and memories that conform to its logic—and then selling them to the common people.

Ladies and gentlemen, from Liu Xiang's withdrawal from the competition today to this director's wife's post on Weibo, isn't your liking following the familiar pattern?

Ms. Liu's Weibo post, the wide opening ceremony, Liu Xiang's withdrawal from the race—

The three seem unrelated, yet they share the same dangerous grammar: turning people into symbols, pain into spectacle, and resistance into complicity.

How much longer shall we remain silent?

. . .

Professor Zhu delivered a long and impassioned speech, once again satisfied with his own excrement, before donning a well-tailored suit and heading out to school.

Liu Xiang's timing for withdrawing from the competition was perfect. This time, he not only got to ride the coattails of a wide road but also the coattails of a top female celebrity in the Chinese entertainment industry, who has 1600 million fans!

Perhaps he could talk to his students about this "Lacanian mirror theory" during the afternoon class!

Song Zude: I understand you, brother!
While Professor Zhu thoroughly enjoyed the pig manure, he was somewhat bewildered by the story of the director's wife at a private estate in Beiping, 1200 kilometers away from Shanghai.

Yang Siwei called her and said that her comment had been forwarded and commented on, causing a great stir.

Xiao Liu rolled his eyes and looked at it for a long time. Sometimes he really felt that there was a huge gap in cultural level between him and Lu Kuan, Zhu Dake and his group. What kind of nonsense was this pig dung talking about?
Why can't I understand it very well?

In the words of her maternal grandmother from Northeast China, what kind of nonsense is "Lacan's mirror theory"?

While searching on Baidu and doing reading comprehension exercises, Liu Xiaolv cursed pig manure in his heart!

The entire article only mentions "a director's wife," which she can understand!
Regardless of his stance or character, Professor Zhu, with his vast knowledge, is indeed talented.

Even Mr. Lu, a longtime "victim," acknowledges this point.

His literary criticism is like a sophisticated deconstruction machine, always able to cut into things from the most unconventional angles.

They turn any hot topic into a footnote to verify their theoretical presuppositions, using academic jargon to give popular events an intellectual aura—a truly precise grasp of the art.

At 2:30 pm on the 18th, cicadas were chirping noisily on the Tongji University campus.

The dappled shade of the plane trees falls on the cement pavement of the Siping Road campus, where Professor Zhu's graduate thesis class is held in Wenyuan Building.

This gray brick building, built in the 1950s, carries the weight of Soviet style and the rigor of academics, and is the traditional teaching location for theoretical courses in the Faculty of Arts.

The small classroom was filled with his personally supervised graduate students. They would write up the municipal and national-level literature and art theory research projects he received, and Professor Zhu would then pay them a token amount for their services.

In 2008, Professor Zhu was writing his next book, "The Ancient Chinese Pantheon," which was an outright sensationalist and money-grabbing work. Many of the graduate students present today ghostwrote and researched for him.

"Alright, students, thank you all for coming to school in this hot weather. Today we're going to go through the genealogy of Yao, Shun, and Yu again."

Zhu Dake wore a neatly ironed short-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, revealing a low-key Longines watch on his wrist.

He never looked at the book when lecturing; he always prepared his lectures in his head. He would only occasionally write technical terms on the blackboard in traditional Chinese characters. When he got excited, he would suddenly tap the podium with his knuckles.

The dozen or so students in the audience were secretly grumbling.

They only give each person a 500 yuan subsidy, and they're making us stay on campus to work for them during the summer vacation.

Still talking about Yao, Shun, and Yu?

How could Yao, Shun, and Yu appear in a book like "The Ancient Chinese Pantheon"?
Because Zhu Dake wrote about them as "gods" in this book, he believed that Yao, Shun and Yu were all fictional figures in history, just gods worshipped by tribal people.

Even worse, this erudite Professor Zhu replaced academic research with conjecture, linking ancient Chinese mythology with African origins, and directly inferring in his book that the ancient Chinese mythological civilization was not entirely an indigenous product, but may have been a common totem of multiple ethnic groups and human origins.

This is about digging up one's own roots.

There were many people present who were disdainful of such speculative writing, but Professor Zhu was everyone's graduate advisor and a well-known figure in the industry. He even dared to meet with the richest man in mainland China every now and then.

Considering the future and prospects, ideals have been defeated by reality, and there's nothing left to do but make do and get by.

Zhu Dake was giving a passionate and methodical lecture on the stage when he suddenly noticed several students whispering among themselves.

"Pan Sen, Zhang Dali, what are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, teacher, we'll stop here." Pan Sen, tall and thin, was startled by his teacher's stern expression and stammered.

Professor Zhu's expression softened slightly: "Pay more attention, everyone. Which other tutor would give you free lessons during the summer vacation like I do?"

The students below the stage kept their eyes down and didn't dare to speak, but they felt nauseous inside.

Who do you think wants to listen to a lecture that involves giving away one's ancestors to others?

Not only do I have to listen, but I also have to write a draft based on your outline for reference and revision! You beast!
Seemingly a silent form of resistance, the buzzing of cell phones in the classroom grew louder and louder.

Many students looked at the text messages and QQ messages on their phones with strange expressions, and occasionally glanced up at Zhu Dake, who was writing and drawing on the blackboard.

Professor Zhu, "unable to bear it any longer," turned around and pointed at a girl: "Yao Yan! You come up here and give me your phone!"

"You've gone too far!"

Yao Yan was a well-off local girl from Shanghai and didn't care much about Zhu Dake's reprimands. If her father hadn't gone to great lengths to find her this fame-seeking literary scoundrel, she would have run away long ago.

Especially at noon, this old hag was still cricketing about her idol, Liu Yifei, which was even more unbearable.

Unlike Xiao Liu's almost manic male fans, she genuinely wishes Xiao Liu and Washing Machine a happy ending. Although she used to despise the latter's womanizing ways, it doesn't stop her from now on being a huge fan of the couple.

Yao Yan stepped forward with a normal expression, her long legs making the classmates in the classroom who secretly admired this rich and beautiful girl envious.

What are you talking about down there?

"Teacher Zhu, we're talking about you." Yao Yan stood gracefully below the podium, looked up and met Zhu Dake's gaze, showing no fear whatsoever.

Professor Zhu raised an eyebrow: "What do you mean?"

"Teacher Zhu, someone replied to your Weibo post about Liu Xiang that you made at noon."

Zhu Dake was secretly delighted, and said "Oh" aloud, but still couldn't help himself, and casually asked, "Liu Yifei?"

“The road is wide.” Yao Yan shook her head; actually, she was quite curious herself.

"What!" Professor Zhu's pupils contracted sharply, and his Adam's apple bobbed violently twice.

Instead of feeling any fear, he was filled with ecstatic joy!

It was a gamble, and since this top female celebrity in the Chinese entertainment industry was ridiculously popular, they figured they might as well try to capitalize on any opportunity.

How did this end up bringing the main character out of the picture?

If he had known it would be this easy, he would have taken this risky move long ago!

Zhu Dake gestured for everyone to digest what he had just said, took out his computer and network cable from his bag, plugged them into the port under the lectern, opened Network Neighborhood, and logged in with his teacher account to access the webpage.

The students in the audience were not interested in engaging in academic misconduct; they all pulled out their phones and chatted away on QQ. Articles about Boss Lu criticizing Zhu Dake went viral online instantly.

It seems that even the buzz surrounding Liu Xiang's withdrawal from the race this morning has been significantly reduced, which can be considered a diversionary tactic.

Professor Zhu excitedly opened Weibo, found Lu Kuan's account in his following list, and like a long-time admirer who had been chasing his goddess for many years, he finally got a response.

Huh? Where's the response?

Lu Kuan's Weibo post is still the same one from last month, with a picture of the "road-killing dog" skyscraper that set a Guinness World Record after the wedding announcement.

"Yao Yan, what you just said..."

"You can see it on Qian... on Liu Yifei's Weibo."

Zhu Dake steadied himself, quickly scrolling through the pages, his eyes glued to the screen, afraid of missing a single detail.

"Where...where..." Professor Zhu's nose was almost touching the screen as he found Xiao Liu's ID [Liu Yifei CC] from the page that was forwarded today, and clicked the hyperlink to enter her homepage.

The pinned blog post was posted an hour and a half ago, with over 250000 views and over 30000 replies.

Zhu Dake seemed to see a massive influx of traffic beckoning to him; it wasn't just numbers, it represented his industry status and influence!

The popularity of this book, which he is currently writing, both online and offline, will be a driving force. All he has to do now is to accept the challenge from the richest man in mainland China.

Or, it's okay if you can't respond. There's no absolute first place in literature. In a debate, it's normal for people to go back and forth!
It would be great if it were as exciting as the previous war of words between Han Han and the Writers Association!

Zhu Dake's heart pounded wildly in his chest, his blood rushing to his eardrums with a buzzing sound as he stared intently at Liu Yifei's pinned Weibo post.
-
Professor Zhu, the expert in staged accidents.

Hello everyone, I'm Lu Kuan.

I received a call from Liu Yifei at 1 p.m. She said she had been attacked online for no reason and was feeling very upset, so she wanted to vent her frustration to me.

I was puzzled because she has always been very strong. She has weathered many storms in public opinion throughout her career and never let it bother her. Why is she so aggrieved this time?

Xiao Liu said this time was different because he was unfairly smeared after announcing his marriage, and today, his support for our athlete Liu Xiang on the internet was also being distorted in various ways. He felt that some people were really unreasonable.

When I asked, I was surprised to learn that it was Zhu Dake.

That's not surprising.

Some of you may have heard this name before, while many others may only learn about it from this article. So, let me give you a brief introduction.

It can be divided into two aspects:

Firstly, Professor Zhu in the public eye and in online terms is, in short, a highly learned doctoral supervisor who teaches at the School of Humanities of Tongji University. However, his courses are rather strange, mainly consisting of criticism.

Art criticism, social criticism, film criticism, historical criticism, mythological criticism, and so on.

Secondly, regarding Professor Zhu as I see him, three words suffice to summarize him—

A staged accident scammer.

What is "碰瓷" (pengci)? Friends who have never lived in Beiping (Beijing) may not know this. It is a dialect of old Beiping in the late Qing Dynasty.

This refers to a group of impoverished Manchu bannermen who would deliberately collide with a horse-drawn carriage and break the porcelain, using it to extort compensation from the carriage owner. Because carriage owners were often in a hurry and had money, the success rate of this extortion was high.

That's right, this professor who staged accidents has been targeting me ever since my first movie seven years ago.

In some ways, his eye for talent was even sharper than Xiao Liu's; he spotted me in the vast sea of ​​people at a glance.

And so this master of staged accidents began his performance.

"The Drummer" has been called a vulgar product promotion, and "The Thief" has been called a craftsman's work that panders to capital.
"The Other Side of the World" has been called a tool for piling up special effects technology, while "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" has been called an abandoned Western fantasy narrative.
"Tangshan" has been called a shameful exploitation of national suffering, and "Sky" has been called a hypocritical patriotic business.
Up until the recent opening ceremony and wedding announcement, Professor Zhu's periods were even more punctual than those of young women, never missing, never late, and never going through menopause.

Even so, I have never responded directly.

However, my motivation wasn't to protect his freedom of criticism or to avoid jeopardizing his livelihood; it was simply out of disdain. I don't believe Zhu Dake is qualified to engage in dialogue with me regarding cinematic art.

He's too low-level; talking to him will lower your IQ and perspective. Then he'll try to defeat you in his area of ​​expertise: sophistry and unreasonable arguments.

So why did I respond online this time, and even use Xiao Liu's account with 1600 million followers, in order to get more people to see it?
Because there wasn't enough time.

Xiao Liu and I are still young. Even if we just treat this so-called critic who is over fifty years old as a fart, we can just let him go.

But some people can't wait any longer.

Yesterday at noon, I received a call from Director Xie Jin's nephew. Due to the grief of losing their son, Director Xie and his wife, Ms. Xu Dawen, who suffer from heart disease, were admitted to Ruijin Hospital.

I think it's time to talk about Xie Jin, the biggest victim of Professor Zhu's "extortion theory".

In recent years, the domestic film market has developed rapidly, and the overall film market has grown rapidly, with commercial films being the absolute mainstay.

At the beginning of the millennium, this was the wave of commercial films and blockbusters sparked by Zhang Yimou's "Hero".

Today, most moviegoers go to the cinema for the Lunar New Year commercial films. Over the years, films like the Crazy series, Detective Chinatown series, and Youth series, as well as Feng Xiaogang's Lunar New Year films and Zhang Yimou's martial arts blockbusters, have all contributed to the prosperity of the film market.

While audiences are marveling at the growing appeal of domestic films and watching a dazzling array of Hollywood movies, they probably can't imagine that as early as the 80s, industry professionals, represented by Shanghai Film Studio and director Xie Jin, had already begun exploring this path.

I have mentioned the difference between genre films and non-genre films on different occasions before, as well as the industrialization of film and the idea of ​​"learning from the barbarians to control the barbarians." In fact, these are all just picking up scraps from the past.

Why did we wait until the domestic film market hit its lowest point in the 90s, when more than a hundred film studios across the country were struggling to pay salaries, before we were forced to start experimenting with commercial films, exploring the Lunar New Year film season, and importing Hollywood films starting in 94?
Because the explorations undertaken by Shanghai Film Studio and Xie Jin were destroyed by so-called literary critics led by Professor Zhu.

You might ask, didn't Zhu Dake also criticize Lu Kuan for so many years? Why was it Xie Jin who couldn't withstand the pressure?

Specific problems require specific analysis, and the power of public opinion and criticism must be considered in the context of the development of the times.

The predecessor of Shanghai Film Studio was the integration of several private film companies in Shanghai during the Republic of China period, such as Kunlun and Wenhua. These companies were deeply influenced by Hollywood narrative aesthetics.

After the founding of the People's Republic of China, although the Shanghai Film Studio was transformed into a state-owned enterprise, it still continued the Hollywood style of "dramatic conflict + popular narrative + full visuals".

Xie Jin, as the core director, has demonstrated his skillful use of classic Hollywood narratives in works such as "Woman Basketball Player No. 5" and "Stage Sisters," which have received very enthusiastic market response.

After the reform and opening up, Shanghai Film Studio continued to explore the development of commercial films by taking advantage of the geographical advantages of Shanghai. It produced China's first science fiction film, the first sports film, and the famous "Romance on Lushan Mountain", which pioneered the romance film genre.

You can ask your parents; for them, "Romance on Lushan Mountain" is like "Titanic" for our generation.

At the same time, the academic school, represented by the Beijing Film Academy, has also cultivated a group of art film directors who are passionate about exploring cinematic language and narrative techniques, and imbuing films with more humanistic reflections.

Genre films and non-genre films, commercial films and art films, are not inherently superior or inferior; they should be diverse and open to debate.

However, Professor Zhu, who had a penchant for extortion, chose to target the Shanghai Film Studio and Xie Jin during a specific social trend and historical period, thus stifling this development process.

In 1986, Zhu Dake published "The Defects of Xie Jin's Film Model" in Wenhui Daily, launching a comprehensive crackdown on the exploration of film commercialization under the guise of "academic criticism".

Professor Zhu believes that commercialized narratives in films represent a regression in thought, with Hollywood using sentimental techniques to create "moral myths" and induce audiences to accept traditional ethics in an "emotional coma."

Professor Zhu believes that commercial films prioritize intellectual aesthetics over public sentiment and use Western theoretical discourse to belittle local narrative wisdom.

Professor Zhu used academic disputes as a pretext to carry out a political attack, openly declaring that Shanghai Film Studio and Xie Jin were being culturally colonized by Hollywood.

Friends, what a despicable frame-up this is!
This is not academic criticism, this is academic murder!

To paraphrase Foucault, whom Professor Zhu frequently quotes, this is the strangulation of creative freedom by the power of knowledge.

In layman's terms, this is like stopping the cook from preparing food and then accusing him of starving the customers!
Ultimately, with the help of some people, a nationwide discussion on the "Xie Jin model" was sparked.

This discussion ultimately degenerated into a judgment on the form of ideology, definitively stating that the exploration of commercial films deviated from the spirit of progressiveness.

A grain of sand in the sands of time broke Xie Jin's back, forcing him to change his artistic exploration path.

At the same time, the path of diversified development of Chinese films was artificially severed under pressure, and major state-owned film studios abandoned the commercial film model that they had successfully explored.

Director Xie Jin once told me with some regret that the last film he approved was "The Battle of Red Cliffs," a film based on the Three Kingdoms period. If nothing had gone wrong, the emergence of commercial blockbusters in China could have been brought forward by at least 15 years.

What is this concept?
The development of the domestic film market can be seen from the emergence of "Hero" in 2002.

The frustrating reality is that since then, the production and criticism of Chinese films have been dominated by art films, completely disconnected from the needs of the audience.

Until 1994, the annual output of domestic films plummeted from 150 to less than 40, forcing the import of Hollywood blockbusters to save the market and attract audiences back to the cinema.

How tragic! How lamentable!
For art forms like film, film criticism should be like a guiding light, illuminating the path of creation. However, Professor Zhu has become a ridiculous stumbling block, crawling on the ground in an ugly manner.

A true critic is not one who burns down granaries with torches, but one who raises a lamp in the darkness, allowing the sower to see the earth clearly.

Today, Director Xie Jin is still half asleep in his hospital bed.

The tenacious beating of his aging heart is a tearful indictment by a generation of filmmakers.

When artistic exploration is labeled with "moral stigma," and when audience demands are degraded to "vulgar tastes," film ceases to be a screen illuminating life and becomes a frame for intellectuals to flaunt their knowledge.

Professor Zhu has always liked to define things and give nicknames, so today I might as well give him a taste of his own medicine.

Professor Zhu, you are a con artist who is trying to extort money. Your meaningless criticism is essentially a form of intellectual power terrorism, a spiritual castration that misappropriates the name of the New Wave, and a cultural arsonist that persecutes righteous wisdom!

Finally, on behalf of myself and my fiancée, I would like to extend my sincerest condolences to Director Xie Jin, who is currently in the hospital.

I wish you a speedy recovery and that you can return to your favorite movies.

Xie Jin exists in every era, but Xie Jin transcends eras.

Alas!
Zhu Dake's gaze swept back and forth across the screen, his eyeballs trembling slightly involuntarily, and his brows furrowed into a deep furrow.

His face was tinged with a dark red that spread from his ears to his cheekbones, and the veins on the side of his neck bulged like pulsating earthworms.

It wasn't until the final line, "The era has Xie Jin, but Xie Jin has no era," that he was truly provoked. The gentle and refined Professor Zhu suddenly picked up his teacup and smashed it. Glass shards flew across the front row of the small classroom, startling several girls who screamed!
Why did he lose his composure like that?
Has someone who is used to criticizing others never thought that he himself would have such a day?

Lies don't hurt, truth is the knife.

He might say a hundred things about how wide the road is, but the latter would only find it irrelevant.

But Boss Lu's ruthless deconstruction of him was like stripping Zhu Dake naked and exposing him to the public, making him feel an undeniable sense of inferiority.

It was obvious from the way Professor Zhu looked at the students.

So you're a shameful brat too.

No!

With trembling hands, Zhu Dake forced himself to endure the momentary dizziness and turned on the computer again.

He wanted to fight back, he wanted to refute, he wanted to resist!

He opened his Weibo account, and before he could even formulate a few sharp words in his mind, a flood of netizens had already come to check in.

"Professor Zhu, could you open a doctoral program in your 'art of staged accidents'? I'd love to learn! It's mainly because washing machines don't take on apprentices, otherwise his insult about you not having menopause would be even more hilarious, haha!"

"I think Director Lu is being too lenient. You're not just some kind of intellectual terrorism, you're the Taliban of academia! You're just bombing your own cultural strongholds."

"Zhu Dake, Lu Tianmin, and Li Jie were the three most active critics of Xie Jin back then. Now, Old Man Taro is basically gone, and I think this time it's your turn, Pig Dung. (This is a nickname I heard in Xixi's fan group, quite fitting.)"

"Zhu Dake is smart all his life, but this is the dumbest thing he's ever done. If you insult the washing machine, do you think he'll pay any attention to you? But if you insist on insulting his woman, why wouldn't he slap you in the face?"

Zhu Dake had just been stabbed in the heart by a sharp sword that exposed his cultural grandeur, and now he was attacked by so many netizens with "filthy language," making him feel extremely dizzy for a moment.

Previously immune to the opinions of these commoners, he was even eager to engage in a fierce battle with Lu Kuan. But now that the truth has been brutally revealed, he is suddenly panicked, as if the invulnerable yellow robe of cultural scholars and intellectuals has been stripped away, leaving him instantly devoid of energy and spirit.

He unconsciously held his breath for a few seconds, then suddenly took a deep breath, making a short, sharp gasp in his throat.

His fingers gripped the edge of the phone so tightly that his knuckles turned bluish-white from the force.

"Quick! Quick... come help me!"

The students were initially happy to see his predicament, but seeing that the old man with high blood pressure was really swaying, they didn't dare to neglect him and went forward to help him sit down.

With trembling hands, Zhu Dake took out his blood pressure medication from his bag and swallowed it. His expression softened slightly as he pondered how to get through this difficult time.

He wanted a response from Lu Kuan, but not this kind of response! Isn't this pushing him to the brink?

You scoundrel! Arrogant! Shameless scoundrel!
In that era, who didn't seize the opportunity to rise to prominence and make a name for themselves? What's wrong with criticizing Xie Jin?
But now I really have no way to explain it. Should I try to shift the blame to...?

Wouldn't that just lead to an even faster death?
Zhu Dake slammed his fist on the table again, scattering the pen holder and stationery, his chest heaving violently.

He felt a wave of dizziness, the buzzing of blood turned into a sharp ringing in his ears, and the surrounding air seemed to freeze, trapping him in this overwhelming humiliation.

Yao Yan watched coldly from the sidelines, feeling extremely pleased with herself.

You call Sissi's marriage a deformed freak in the entertainment industry? I think you, you pig dung, are the biggest scumbag!

So all the backwardness of Chinese films over the past ten years was due to your toxic farts back then!

When it comes to the ability to stir up emotions, Boss Lu is undoubtedly unmatched, as can be seen from his mobilization and speeches at the Olympics and company annual meetings.

Including the "Declaration Against Pigs" he wrote this time, it is actually a fallacy of changing the concept, returning the original "grain of sand of the times" to Zhu Dake exactly as it was.

In fact, if we were to talk about the real culprit, Zhu Dake could be considered the principal offender, but without the cooperation and support from all sides, as well as the tacit approval from above, Shanghai Film Studio and Xie Jinye would not have given in.

But just as Zhu Dake couldn't shift the blame, Lu Kuan targeted this very point, leaving him speechless and unable to defend himself, firmly pinning the blame on him so that he had no way to deny it.

Isn't this also a form of leveraging external forces?
If those who cannot be criticized cannot be criticized, then Professor Zhu, you must bear full responsibility.

Zhu Dake looked much better after taking his blood pressure medication. He told the students to leave first, and then sat in the classroom to rest for a while until his wife came to pick him up.

Seeing his pathetic state, the graduate students suppressed their laughter, pushed open the door, and left, ready to join the next round of online revelry and make fun of their mentor.

The fans of the CP of the fairy are already itching to join in. It's the first time the washing machine has ever cursed someone since its debut, and it was for the sake of the beauty. They have to go and join in the fun.
Zhu Dake remained silent in the classroom for a few seconds before deciding to take out his phone to ask for help.

He was really scared.

The peaceful coexistence of the past five or six years has made him somewhat complacent about this ruthless and wealthy tycoon from mainland China.

He just didn't know he'd been being raised like a pig all along.

If Xie Jinxing hadn't been on his deathbed, Boss Lu would have felt he should give the old director an explanation, and perhaps would have let him continue barking to cover for him.

Today, the person came up with such a strongly worded proclamation against the traitor. If it were just a war of words, that would be fine, but Zhu Dake was worried that the person might have other tricks up their sleeve.

He was also a wise man who knew when to yield to circumstances.

Professor Zhu had made up his mind: if the person who instructed him to launch this attack after the opening ceremony didn't help him, he would immediately apologize and kowtow online.

What's the big deal about losing face?
Weibo comments are constantly being turned on and off; as long as the green hills remain, there will always be firewood to burn.

Even scholars sometimes complain about cold water or itchy scalps.
What does this amount to?

Professor Zhu made a phone call, and he still hasn't guessed who the middleman was who helped him contact Nan Fang and facilitated the publication of his book and the expression of his opinions.

He speculated that it must be some companies that had personal grudges against or were competitors of Lu Kuan.

Otherwise, why would they be willing to go to such great lengths to ask me to take action, and even smooth things over with Nanfang's side?

Beep, beep, beep…

"Hey?"

"President Zheng, this is Zhu Dake. You must help me this time." Professor Zhu could hardly remember the last time he had been this flustered.

The so-called "General Manager Zheng" on the other end of the phone looked at his superior and received a nod of approval.

"Don't worry, Professor Zhu, this rumor won't spread. We'll find people to support us and prevent Lu Kuan from making any false accusations against you."

"In addition, Nanfang will also lend a helping hand. They have always been committed to protecting the occupational safety of those who speak out. You don't need to be afraid. You can think about how to refute him."

Zhu Dake was extremely unwilling at this moment, and said with some difficulty, "President Zheng, do you think it's possible to..."

Boom boom boom!
Before Professor Zhu could finish speaking, the classroom door was suddenly pushed open, revealing President Pei of Tongji University.

Da Ke was overjoyed! The organization had sent people!

He whispered "Wait a moment" into the phone, then hurried forward. As he stood up abruptly, he felt dizzy again.

"Principal Pei!" Professor Zhu's eyes were filled with the ecstatic joy of a drowning person grabbing onto driftwood, his fingers almost crumpling the sleeves of the other man's suit.
"Did you see the news circulating online just now? This is blatant slander! Is this era so intolerant of people who speak the truth?!"

As Zhu Dake spoke, he habitually started to escalate the issue, which had almost become an instinct in his decades-long career.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and spittle flew everywhere: "That capitalist dog Lu Kuan is waging a literary inquisition! You must mobilize the academic community to support me. Those people at the Shanghai Film Studio have definitely been bought off by him. As long as the school comes forward to refute the rumors..."

Principal Pei sighed inwardly. He had already been informed by colleagues from the city and the Ministry of Education before he came.

Official business must be handled impartially, and no favoritism is allowed.

Principal Pei's gaze behind his glasses was calm. He had no choice but to interrupt Zhu Dake's machine-gun-like pleas. His voice was flat, but to Zhu Dake's ears it sounded like a eulogy from a funeral home.

"Professor Zhu, it is irrelevant who you criticize or what you debate online; the school will not and cannot interfere."

"But there is something I need to explain to you in the principal's office."

Zhu Dake was taken aback: "What's wrong?"

"Two officials from the city are waiting for you to investigate some matters."

Professor Zhu was immediately enraged, and truly felt the fear of being dominated by power!

"Does his wide network of connections make him so powerful? He thinks he can just launch a long-distance attack on me this afternoon after I post an article at noon?!"

"Damn it! Is there no law anymore?! I'm going to sue him!"

Zhu Dake was going crazy. He genuinely believed that he was about to be persecuted by Boss Lu, and he suddenly threw his phone away!

"I am a special allowance expert! A specially appointed doctoral supervisor at Tongji University! I am one of the top 100 intellectuals!"

"I want to speak out! Speak out for me!"

Principal Pei had no choice but to reach out and press down on his shoulder: "Da Ke! It's not what you think! It's a colleague from the tax bureau!"

He tried to soften his expression and said gently, "It's just a tax issue. You can pay the back taxes. Why are you getting so worked up? It's not a big deal."

Zhu Dake's expression softened slightly, and he hesitated before speaking, when Principal Pei added, "We've handled all the other matters on behalf of the school. It's just that those few transaction records are a bit vague. You just need to explain them clearly."

"It seems like it was when you went to the US for academic exchange with the college last time..."

shock!
Professor Zhu felt as if he had been stung by a poisonous bee, and his body involuntarily took a few steps back.

He was filled with regret! If it weren't for writing this book, "The Ancient Chinese Pantheon," how could he have let Lu Kuan seize on his weakness this time!

"what!"

Zhu Dake suddenly clutched his temples, his face turning a purplish-red like a pig's liver.

Principal Pei's expression changed, and he and his secretary were about to step forward to help him up when the latter collapsed like a rotten log, his convulsing limbs scattering the manuscript of "The Ancient Chinese Pantheon" everywhere.

The secretary watched as he suddenly made a strange gurgling sound in his throat, and foul matter mixed with blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, a typical symptom of an intracranial pressure overload.

"Principal, he's had a stroke!"

"Call 120 immediately! Get him to the school clinic first!"

A group of people hurriedly cleaned up the mess, and no one noticed that Zhu Dake's phone, which was in the middle of a call, was still on the podium.

The screen flickered between bright and dim, and after a few seconds, the call ended with a beep.

The "General Manager Zheng" that Zhu Dake mentioned reported the news that the former was suspected of having suffered a cerebral hemorrhage to his superior. The latter nodded solemnly and went to his car to make a phone call to his leader.

"Hello? Mr. Yang, something's happened. Zhu Dake seems to have suffered a cerebral hemorrhage and collapsed. We don't know his condition right now."

Yang Yuanqing remained silent for a few seconds on the other end of the phone, then hung up after saying "keep an eye on it" and looked at the shrewd old chairman with an inquiring gaze.

"That guy Lu Kuan is really ruthless. He turned on me last night and started making a move today."

Chairman Liu lay back in his office chair with his eyes closed, resting for a while before silently opening them: "Doesn't tax auditing take time? It can only be said that he had planned this for a long time, and it just happened to be the right time."

The idea was tricky, and the seasoned business magnate inwardly sighed at the opponent's blatant brilliance.

He had read Boss Lu's denunciation of the traitor with an appreciative attitude, which explains why he was able to push Zhu Dake to this point.

However, young people are just young people; they tend to overdo things.

It's fine if you ruin Zhu Dake's reputation or bring him down, but how did you get to this point?

Yang Yuanqing tentatively asked, "Boss, do you think we should communicate with Nan Fang and ask for some public opinion support?"

"I've instructed my subordinates to tell Xiao Zheng to go to Shanghai immediately and find the best medical care for Zhu Dake. It's crucial..."

Chairman Liu frowned slightly: "What do you want to do?"

Yang Yuanqing was about to say that he would do everything he could to save Professor Zhu without thinking, but when he saw the old leader's ambiguous smile, he stopped himself.

A thought suddenly flashed through his mind, and cold sweat instantly broke out on his back.

“Sending someone to Shanghai is definitely necessary, but you need to ask them to communicate well with Professor Zhu’s family.”

"If a stroke can be cured, then do so; if not, then treat it conservatively. Don't force anything."

"Mr. Liu...Mr. Liu..." Yang Yuanqing's expression became even more surprised and uncertain.

The old chairman smiled kindly, the cigarette between his fingers had burned to the end, but he hesitated to flick the ash.

The grayish-white ash swayed precariously, just like Professor Zhu on his hospital bed, ready to be extinguished at any moment.

"you say--"

The old chairman's voice was deep: "Is a living Zhu Dake more useful, or a dead Zhu Dake?"

Before Yang Yuanqing could even stammer an answer, he casually gave his own, as if answering his own question.

"The living Zhu Dake has a ruined reputation and no credibility left. No one will believe anything he says now."

"The dead Zhu Dake will only cause a stir for a while. Anyway, they have no right to complain. It will all be over soon."

Although Chairman Liu's slightly cloudy eyes still revealed a kind and gentle look, his words sent chills down Yang Yuanqing's spine.

"Either death or life."

"Most useful."

(End of this chapter)