My era, 1979!

Chapter 200: Being a Public Intellectual in Ordinary Life (Bonus Chapter, 1.8 words, reason to follow)
“Fujii-kun,” Xu Chengjun’s voice was not loud, but it carried a strange penetrating power, “It’s normal for you to feel confused. Because you, and the left wing of Japan you belong to, have been trying to solve the problem within a wrong framework.”

"Nani!?"

Xu Chengjun's lips twitched slightly.

You fucking bastard, what the hell?

For the sake of appearing sophisticated, he leaned forward slightly, his gaze as precise as a scalpel as he locked onto Fujii's slightly darting eyes.

“You always get caught up in fancy words like ‘freedom of speech,’ ‘democratic process,’ and ‘public opinion,’ trying to change the status quo through reasoning and appeals. It’s like,”

He chuckled softly, a hint of mockery in his voice. "Trying to smash granite with exquisite porcelain. You've forgotten the most fundamental point—"

Xu Chengjun paused for a moment, seemingly organizing his thoughts, or perhaps admiring Fujii's increasingly tense expression.

Who are our enemies? Who are our friends?

When Xu Chengjun said those words, he felt as if he were being shone with light.

"In your Japanese context, it means: Who is stubbornly upholding that distorted view of history? Where is their power based? What economic foundations, political structures, and ideological state apparatuses are supporting them?"

And what are the true interests and demands of your potential allies, the vast majority of the Japanese people? Have you truly figured that out?

Fujii opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found that Xu Chengjun's words were like a needle, directly piercing his long-held vague understanding.

That makes sense!

It is the enlightenment of knowledge!

It's a renewal of thought!
"Your left wing in Japan, including you, Fujii-kun,"

Xu Chengjun gently tapped his temple. "To a large extent, you're still stuck in the weakness and wavering of petty-bourgeois intellectuals. You see the problems, you feel the injustice, but you lack the determination and strategy to carry them through to the end."

You fear conflict, you fear being labeled 'extremist,' so you can only engage in lofty discussions in salons and write bland articles in newspapers, fantasizing that you can influence your opponents through 'reason' and 'conscience.'

His words were like a cold whip, lashing at Fujii's mind.

“Look at those right wings, why are they so loud?”
Because they have clear interest groups behind them, they are organized, they have action plans, and they know how to use national sentiment as a spiritual opium to numb the masses.

And what about you? Besides feeble and powerless 'reflection' and 'peace,' what cohesive and effective ideological weapons can you offer?"

Xu Chengjun leaned back in his seat, his posture seemingly relaxed, but his eyes became increasingly sharp.

"

But they won't fall on their own. Someone needs to break through this barrier.

We need the weapon of criticism, and of course, I'm referring primarily to the weapon of thought.

He looked at Fujii, whose face had turned pale and whose forehead was beginning to bead with sweat, and his tone suddenly took on an almost sinister, seductive quality:
"Fujii-kun, why do you think I dared to say those things on Japanese soil?"
Because what's standing behind me?
Not just the University of Tokyo. I stand on the solid ground of historical materialism and the sharp weapon of the method of contradiction analysis.

My view of the chaos in your Japanese society is like a doctor looking at an X-ray: the bones, the lesions, the accumulated toxins—it's all crystal clear.

"The clamor of the right wing is nothing more than the dying struggle of the ghost of the old era under the structural contradictions between globalized capital and domestic politics."

The root cause of your weakness on the left wing lies in your failure to completely break with the old worldview and your failure to master truly scientific analytical methods.

Your attempt to resolve the historical ills and current injustices stemming from capitalism itself within the framework of capitalism is futile.

Xu Chengjun's voice was deep and magnetic, each word striking Fujii's defenses like a hammer blow:

Want to change?

Good intentions alone are not enough. They require practice, struggle, and an understanding that politics means making as many friends as possible and as few enemies as possible. It also requires distinguishing between primary and secondary contradictions.

In Japan, what is the main contradiction that hinders the true reckoning with history and the achievement of spiritual independence?
It's the deeply entrenched conservative forces within the system, bound to the old regime and the interests of the military-industrial complex, along with their ideological spokespeople, and your masters, the US. Without grasping this primary contradiction, all your efforts will be like scratching an itch through a boot.

He finished, almost in a whisper, his eyes burning:
"Fujii-kun, the task of intellectuals is not only to explain the world, but more importantly, to change it."

Changing the world requires more than just passion; it demands the wisdom to see the essence of things, the courage to fight, and… effective methods. Are you ready to change your perspective, to adopt a different 'weapon,' to re-examine the land beneath your feet and your place within it?

After he finished speaking, the car fell into a deathly silence.

Fujii Shozo stared blankly at Xu Chengjun, as if he were seeing this person for the first time.

The other person's words were like a storm, shattering the cognitive framework he had relied on for decades.

Those predicaments he had vaguely sensed but could not articulate.

Those contradictions that troubled him.

Faced with Xu Chengjun's cold, sharp, yet logically rigorous and core-pointing analysis, everything seemed so clear, so...

Vulnerable!
He felt a violent mental shock.

It was as if their souls were dissected, examined, and then reshaped by those deep eyes.

Xu Chengjun's figure seemed to grow infinitely taller in his eyes!

More than just a talented writer! He is a respectable communicator!
Rather, he is more like someone holding the torch of truth, guiding the lost...

Soul mentor!

His lips moved.

In the end, no sound was made.

He stared intently at Xu Chengjun with a look that was a mixture of shock, confusion, and a hint of fervent hope that he had found his way, and nodded heavily.

he!
He was a mentor to the intellectual community in our country!

Only Xu can save Japan!
We need intellectuals like Xu!

In a daze, he seemed to see the faint, almost evil curve of Xu Chengjun's lips deepen even further.

He looks like a priest!
Xu Jun!

"Fujii-kun, do you think the voice of the right wing is just the barking of a few? Look around you—Yasuhiro Nakasone's 'post-war political final accounts' is pushing the Self-Defense Forces toward military normalization; the Ministry of Education's textbook approvals are repeatedly changing 'aggression' to 'entry'; and the zaibatsu,"

He let out a short, cold laugh. "They're busy using the hard-earned money they made in Southeast Asia to support those Class A war criminals at the Yasukuni Shrine."

"While you leftists are still gloating over the illusion of 'freedom of speech,' the other side has already seized control of the education, media, and judicial systems. Do you know why the Asahi Shimbun and the Sankei Shimbun are always at odds?"

This is because the ruling group deliberately maintains a contradictory unity—using superficial arguments to mask the true consensus: to preserve the fundamental stability of the system.

Fujii's breathing became rapid. These realities that he vaguely sensed but dared not think about deeply were torn away by Xu Chengjun's sharp words, revealing the true nature of his pretense.

You mean social structure?

Xu Chengjun leaned closer, his eyes flashing with an almost cruel clarity. "The more dazzling the economic bubble, the deeper the spiritual emptiness. When the whole society is celebrating the world's second-largest GNP, aren't the suffering of those employees who die from overwork under the guise of 'corporate warriors,' and those women struggling with gender discrimination, the most real footnote to oppression?"

He picked up a copy of the "Eastern Economic News" from the car and slammed his fingertip heavily on the stock market news on the front page.

"Mitsubishi, Mitsui, Sumitomo—these conglomerates, sucked dry in the war, have now changed their guise, continuing to monopolize the nation's economic lifeline under the name of 'corporated companies.' And you,"

His gaze pierced Fujii like a needle, "yet they're still playing word games of gentleness, kindness, respect, frugality, and humility with their ideological spokespeople?"

Cold sweat beaded on Fujii's forehead as he recalled the feeble anti-war rallies he had attended, the self-serving protests held in the "demonstration zones" designated by the police.

"remember!"

Xu Chengjun's voice suddenly became as hard as cold iron.

"The weapon of criticism cannot replace the criticism of weapons!"
While the right wing is building their Great Wall of Steel with organization, funding, and action, you are still using moralizing like bamboo spears.

Look at Okinawa; the bulldozers at those beautiful military bases won't stop just because you petition for peace.

He suddenly let out an almost arrogant laugh:
Do you know why my comments make some people jump up and down?

Because I uncovered the truth they feared most—not so-called 'anti-Japanese sentiment,' but rather revealed the fundamental contradictions beneath the glamorous facade of this society: the rift between the economic base and the superstructure, the paradox between the pacifist constitution and military ambitions, and…”

He paused, then said, word by word, "The fatal gap between the unresolved history and the pretentious present, between the glorious 80s and the covetous eyes of Amerinda."

These words, like a scalpel, precisely dissected the malignant tumor beneath the facade of prosperity in Japan during the 80s.

Fujii shuddered violently. He saw what appeared to be an anatomical diagram of the entire Japanese society behind Xu Chengjun—the tentacles of the zaibatsu, the lies of politicians, the manipulation of the media, and the tragic state of the left wing being tamed within the system.

"To break this deadlock,"

Xu Chengjun finally lowered his voice, but his words carried immense weight: "What is needed is not more melodious peace songs, but the wisdom to distinguish friend from foe, the keenness to grasp the principal contradiction, and..."

A cold glint flashed in his eyes, “The determination to assert sovereignty and awaken the blinded masses from their spiritual opium.”

"Stand up, Fujii-kun! Stand up with a free spirit!"

"Without the efforts of intellectuals like you, all of today's glory would have been stripped away by Ami! Don't say you weren't warned!"

"Fujii-kun! Japan doesn't need enslavement! Nor does it need an emperor emeritus! Fight! The Japanese must be masters of their own Japan!"

"Japan needs freedom of thought! It needs reform! It needs public intellectuals like you!"

Fujii Shozo slumped in his chair, his pupils unfocused by the tsunami of his thoughts.

Xu Chengjun patted him on the shoulder: "Do it with our ideas in mind!" At that moment, he seemed to see the incense of Yasukuni Shrine and the neon lights of Ginza collapsing simultaneously under the oppression of their master, revealing the bloody truth of this country.

He gripped Xu Chengjun's sleeve, trembling, like a dying man grasping at his last piece of driftwood, forcing out broken vows from his throat:

"I understand... Xu Sang... please, please guide me on what to do..."

Xu Chengjun smiled.

"Fujii, I can't save Japan. Only the Japanese themselves can save Japan!"

"Hi! Mr. Xu!"

Inside the speeding train carriage, the spiritual banner of a Japanese intellectual is quietly changing hands.

Fujii subconsciously overlooked why Xu Chengjun knew so much about his country.

They also subconsciously overlooked many pitfalls.

He also didn't know there was a term called "public intellectual".

What feminism, what exploitation, what discrimination~
It's so useful!
That's right, Xu Chengjun is preparing to become a public intellectual in Japan from now on.

Crack down on public intellectuals.

We must both bring in foreign investment and expand our outward reach.

Bring them in to beat the dogs, then let them go out to become gods.

Brainwashing, huh?
Why can you do it but I can't?

Hey, but~
Even the best systems and ideas need a suitable environment to thrive.

The opposite is also true.

When a person's head, feet, hands, arms, and buttocks all have thoughts.

He won't go far.

My career as a public intellectual began with Fujii.

Hey, the "Essentials of Education" is really useful!
In the evening, escorted by staff from Iwanami Bookstore, Xu Chengjun arrived at the Jingwang Plaza Hotel, where the exchange group was staying.

He behaved himself.

You can't mess around in front of your own people!
I hope he doesn't end up like Xiao Mo, achieving fame and success only to be called a public intellectual!

It's pretty far-fetched, actually.

The public intellectual most frequently mentioned by netizens is actually the only Nobel Prize winner!
At this point, the exchange group had only four days left in Tokyo, after which they would travel from the Kanto region to Kyoto, Nara, and other Kansai areas for cultural exploration.

Due to the packed schedule of Xu Chengjun's personal book promotion activities, he is likely to miss some group events.

He had barely stepped into the hotel and hadn't even had a chance to catch his breath when Secretary-General Lin Lin solemnly summoned him to a small conference room that the hotel had temporarily rented.

A small, internal meeting thus began.

In addition to delegation leader Ba Jin, deputy delegation leaders Bing Xin and Lin Lin, the attendees also included several core members such as Du Pengcheng and Ai Wu.

The atmosphere is a bit subtle.

To be honest, Xu Chengjun's current situation in Tokyo was something that no one in the delegation—including the well-informed Ba Jin and Bing Xin—had anticipated at all.

Even those of their generation who were renowned literary figures in China felt a strong sense of unease and cultural shock upon arriving in Tokyo in the early 1980s, a city of immense material abundance, rapid pace of life, and ubiquitous media.

Ba Jin felt uneasy about the surging traffic and glaring neon lights on the street.

Bingxin feels both curious and a little bewildered by automated facilities such as elevators and automatic doors.

Du Pengcheng even privately complained that Japanese cuisine was "not filling" and "bland".

They are accustomed to the relatively slow-paced literary circles in China that emphasize the exchange of ideas.

I feel unfamiliar with, and even somewhat resistant to, this Japanese model that closely integrates literature, writers, media entertainment, and commercial marketing.

However, Xu Chengjun, the youngest and least experienced member of the delegation, was originally regarded as a "junior" who needed their care, or rather, the most neglected person.

Yet, in a way that they could not comprehend at all, they adapted to the bizarre and wonderful Tokyo with remarkable ease.

He seems to have a natural talent for dealing with the barrage of questions and comments, knowing how to maintain the best angle and demeanor in front of the TV camera, knowing what tone of voice to use to stir the audience's emotions, and even knowing how to respond to the "jokes" in variety shows.

He criticized the media, television programs, fan adoration, and even right-wing protests...

All of these things that made the delegation feel novel, nervous, or even uneasy seemed to be commonplace.

Or rather, his ability to adapt to and master these things is probably more adept than that of many Tokyo natives.

He's on fire.

It became popular in a way that they couldn't understand.

He made young girls in Japan scream, challenged serious scholars to debates, and drew scathing criticism from right-wing extremists.

He was like a giant magnet, attracting the attention of almost all the media in Tokyo, whether they loved or hated him.

What puzzled them even more was his "operation".

He said so many things that, in their eyes, were "walking a tightrope"! He said that Japanese culture was the son of Chinese culture (which is true, but can you really say that?), he almost forced the Japanese audience to reflect on history and even apologize on the spot, and he relentlessly denounced militarism...

According to their usual foreign affairs thinking, each of these sentences could trigger a serious diplomatic incident, or at the very least make it difficult for him to move an inch in Japan.

But the result?

He didn't seem to care much, and after the uproar, Japanese society seemed to have... accepted his existence to some extent.
Iwanami Shoten treated him like a treasure, and the media chased after him to report on him. Apart from some right-wing groups, mainstream society seemed to have more discussion and curiosity than a complete ban and hostility.

They don't understand!

I really don't understand!
This is completely beyond their experience and understanding over the past few decades.

Secretary-General Lin Lin spoke first, her tone complex, breaking the silence in the meeting room: "Comrade Chengjun, please sit down. Thank you for your hard work today."

He paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts, "First of all, it must be acknowledged that the attention you garnered in Japan this time has objectively greatly expanded the influence of Chinese writers and Chinese literature."

This is an effect that was difficult for our purely literary exchange groups to achieve in the past.

Many Japanese people only began to pay attention to our entire delegation and contemporary Chinese literature after getting to know you. From a publicity perspective, the effect was significant, even… astonishing.”

Du Pengcheng couldn't help but interject, his voice filled with deep confusion: "Kid, I really don't understand! Your approach... according to our old-fashioned perspective, is going to cause a huge mess!"
But the mess you've made, hey, it seems like the more you mess it up, the more successful you become?

Why do those reporters and TV stations fall for your act? And those young girls…”

He shook his head, leaving the rest of his sentence unsaid, but the meaning was clear.

Ai Wu, however, was more concerned about the practical aspects and the subsequent impact: "Cheng Jun, we don't mean to stifle your talent. It's just that your... this highly personal style of communication has effects and risks that are hard to predict."

We are concerned that, on the one hand, excessive media exposure and entertainment might diminish the seriousness and literary value of your work.
On the other hand, while we understand and support some of your remarks domestically, in this complex public opinion environment, won't they be over-interpreted, or even negatively impact the overall cultural exchange between our two countries? Finding the right balance is extremely difficult.

Ba Jin had been listening quietly, and now spoke slowly, his voice calm yet meaningful: "Chengjun, we've all seen your talent and courage. You've opened up a new situation in a way... that's not familiar to our generation. That's good. But,"

He looked at Xu Chengjun with a gentle yet sharp gaze, "The tallest tree in the forest is bound to be felled by the wind. You are now in the eye of the storm, and every word and action you take will be magnified."

In your upcoming trip, especially your personal promotional activities, you must be more careful with your words and actions, and grasp the boundary between 'literary exchange' and 'personal expression'. You should not only showcase the style of our new generation of Chinese writers, but also avoid giving others a handle to use against you and getting caught up in pointless emotional disputes.

Ultimately, your stage is your work.

Ms. Bingxin added gently, "Yes, Chengjun. Seeing you receive so much attention makes us old folks happy. We feel proud, like we've finally gotten our revenge?"
After all, our young people are so successful outside.

But as Buffett said, it is precisely in times like these that we must remain calm.

You need to understand that you now represent more than just yourself.

Xu Chengjun listened attentively to each senior's speech, and he could feel the complex emotions in their words.

There was pride in the attention and influence he had gained (a pride tinged with confusion), a vague worry about not being able to control the situation, and a bewilderment at the unknown operating model, but deeper still, there was a certain tacit acceptance of his abilities and...

A vague expectation?
They seemed to be starting to think that although this young man had an "unconventional" approach, he might actually be able to handle these problems that they found difficult.

People~
Regardless of whether they are stubborn or not, when faced with something they cannot do, they will try to persuade others to give it a shot.

He took a deep breath and responded sincerely: "Mr. Ba, Mr. Bingxin, Secretary-General Lin, Teacher Du, Teacher Ai, I understand and remember your concerns and teachings. Please rest assured, I know my limits. All my words and actions are based on my works and my conscience as a Chinese writer."

I will make good use of this opportunity to let more Japanese readers understand the true face and depth of Chinese literature. I will also pay attention to my methods and approaches, live up to the delegation's trust, and certainly not bring shame to the country.

His answer not only demonstrated his attitude but also implied confidence.

The meeting ended in an atmosphere that was both somewhat worried and strangely satisfied and expectant.

Everyone realized that Xu Chengjun had become a "variable" on this trip that could not be defined by conventional means.

(End of this chapter)