Yes, Prime Minister of Japan

However, in the eyes of some viewers who have a "refined view" of Japanese dramas, this so-called integration is probably what makes Japanese dramas "Ikesuma-like," increasingly resembling Chinese TV dramas.

Li Xinghe's second act of stripping and showing his body in the TV series can be seen as a huge contribution to cultural integration.

After filming ended, Haru nudged Lee Seong-ha's shoulder and said with a laugh:

"At that time, netizens will definitely laugh at you, saying that you are sexually harassing female celebrities again."

Li Xinghe's eyes widened.

That's going too far. Li Xinghe never engaged in any unethical practices with female celebrities; on the contrary, he was the one who was subjected to such practices. He was referring to Haru.

Looking at Yui Aragaki, who had already run away, Li Xinghe angrily said:

"Wow... Next time, let's invite their favorites, Satomi Ishihara and Airi Suzuki, one after another. Let's make the most corny and dramatic short video dramas. Whatever they like to watch."

Japanese dramas represent a very interesting and unique economic sector. Further research into this area might be helpful in establishing a new cultural system.

As for Li Xinghe making short videos, that's a personal hobby.

Modern netizens all like Akaishi, so let's make more arrows.

Chapter 947: A Magical Historical Script, The National Oral Gymnastics Competition (4200 words)

"Madam, please sit here."

As Li Xinghe's mother, the production team naturally dared not write outrageous plots for Misato Ma. Instead, they mainly asked her to play the head of the Uiro family during the Meiji Restoration period and to take dignified seated photos.

Her main role was to read the play's central theme:

"Our Uiro family is both Chinese and Japanese. Supporting friendship between our two countries is the core secret to our family's survival for six hundred years. You must always remember this, and weigh the pros and cons between a great nation and a great family, just as Japan does."

Does it align with history?

It's alright. That's pretty much the stance of the Wai Lang family.

Anyway, that's the main point, so it's most appropriate for the mother of the Prime Minister Lee Sung-ha to personally explain the main point of this TV series.

In the small lounge, Li Xinghe, who had been aroused during the filming of a suggestive and nude scene, was about to take a break when Haru ran in and sat on his lap.

Li Xinghe buried his head in Haru's chest.

"I'll bury your nice breasts."

"If you don't like it, don't use it."

Boru was angry.

This is clearly ironic; her chest couldn't possibly cover Li Xinghe's face.

However, after a few shoves, Li Xinghe decided to enjoy himself first, spreading his legs apart and pulling open Ms. Haru's skirt.

Haru's face was flushed, and she gripped Li Xinghe's hands tightly with slightly clenched teeth, gently biting her lip as she moved up and down.

Indeed, another unspoken rule has occurred, but this time it was Li Xinghe who was sexually assaulted by Haru again.

After leaving the small lounge, Li Xinghe chatted with Haru about how to arrange the subsequent chapters of "The Story of the Female Prime Minister," while the Fuji Television scriptwriting team hurriedly brought him the station's latest plans.

There's another movie that's about to start filming.

The scriptwriting team suggested:

"The Emperor Taiko of Japan" is a film about the latter half of Toyotomi Hideyoshi's life, from conquering Korea to accepting the title of king from the Ming Dynasty.

Li Xinghe flipped through the script, and his expression quickly turned into a blank stare.

In this heavily modified version of the movie, Toyotomi Hideyoshi's character was greatly enhanced.

The invasion of Korea wasn't about seizing territory or establishing the Ningbo Shogunate; rather, it's a Japanese-style embellishment, using the outcome to deduce the process: 'to secure their place in the world order of the Celestial Empire,' 'how could the Ming Dynasty see Japan's significance without sacrifice,' and so on. Replacing the Chinese-related words with American ones wouldn't feel out of place.

Finally, after the defeat of his army, Toyotomi Hideyoshi calmly and happily accepted the title of King of Japan bestowed upon him by the Celestial Empire, and joyfully told his subordinates, "Japan has finally joined the ranks of the world's leaders."

There's a strange, fantastical feeling of leaving Europe and joining Asia, or leaving Asia and joining Europe.

It possesses a distinctly Meiji Restoration-era shogunate literary style.

Yes, the core theme of this fantastical historical drama is "reading the air," using the story of Toyotomi Hideyoshi's defeat in Korea to propose that Japan should "find its place in a China-dominated world order." This is similar to how Japan has produced a series of "Black Ships" movies and TV dramas to promote "leaving Asia and joining Europe" and "finding its place in a Western-dominated world order."

"This... are we not going to mention the Second Korean War?" Li Xinghe asked.

"Let's not talk about it anymore," the screenwriting team replied matter-of-factly, as that would not align with the film's central theme.

Viewers unfamiliar with Japanese dramas might ask, what about the documents from the invasion of Korea? What about Toyotomi Hideyoshi himself, who proposed the invasion? What about Toyotomi Hideyoshi's ambitions? What about Tokugawa Ieyasu, former Ten no Toshiie, and Emperor Go-Yozei, who dissuaded Toyotomi Hideyoshi from personally leading the invasion of Korea? Toyotomi Hideyoshi himself did not hold this attitude.

unimportant.

For Japanese historical drama writers, these historical inaccuracies are unimportant. Many anti-war dramas produced in Japan have themes and historical facts that are completely different from the writers' own intentions.

If you remove the historical figures and events that contradict the script's main theme, it makes sense. After all, all history is contemporary history.

As for Toyotomi Hideyoshi, didn't he eventually accept investiture from the Ming Dynasty's King of Japan? Where are you, Lin Zai? Are you free? Are you even here...?

He himself didn't come over to say anything, so why are the audience raising questions?

Li Xinghe felt the script looked very familiar.

On second thought, isn't this the classic formula of Japanese anti-war dramas? First, they work backward from the outcome to derive an idea about a certain ideology, then they follow this idea, haphazardly cutting and slicing it apart, kicking out any inappropriate people and events, rearranging history, and finally reciting the anti-war message—and that's the script.

This can be seen as giving them the opportunity to apply what they've learned, to draw inferences from one instance to another in historical dramas, and to improve their experience.

However, this fantasy film will serve as a blueprint for similar creations in the Japanese film and television industry in the future.

In other words, the plot of the movie may be terrible, but its main theme represents the political correctness of an era.

Of course, historical dramas always appeal to male viewers with impressive battle scenes. There are plenty of grand scenes to film, such as the Ming army's invasion of Korea and the Three Kingdoms' wars. Just treat the plot as a farce.

Li Xinghe naturally agreed to the arrangement:

"Arrange it immediately, and allow certain subsidies for this type of historical drama, using money from my private treasury."

We need more fantasy dramas like this.

The audience will definitely want to watch it.

……

While Li Xinghe was filming a TV series, a media war broke out in East Asia.

An East Asian saliva gymnastics competition has begun.

The incident stemmed from an announcement by Hyundai's Ulsan Group that, through a three-shift intensive construction effort, Hyundai's shipbuilders demonstrated a spirit of perseverance, enabling the second batch of aircraft carrier battleships built for the Joint Forces to complete their main construction and prepare for launch and outfitting.

Similarly, the Joint Forces Navy Department, Dalian Bearing Factory, and Zhengzhou 703 Artillery Research Institute also published internal commemorative articles entitled "Farewell to the 510mm Naval Gun".

Many media outlets, having learned of the news, quietly reported that the naval gun project was about to be terminated.

Multiple sources were secretly circulating the news, and the coalition forces did not deny it, frankly acknowledging that they would no longer build large-caliber amphibious assault ships: "Battleship guns are outdated, and missiles are far superior to large-caliber guns. It's time to say goodbye to this fleeting giant gun. In any case, thanks to the joint development by Dalian Bearing Factory and Zhengzhou 703 Research Institute, we have refreshed the glorious honor of the largest caliber naval gun in human history, and preserved it forever in East Asia."

The most ridiculous thing is that the second place is the 460mm gun of the Yamato, and the third place is the British project during World War I, a huge and crazy large cruiser project that put a small boat against a large cruiser with 457mm guns.

The news sparked outrage online.

The military enthusiast, his eyes brimming with anger, used his keyboard to unleash his grievances online, furiously criticizing the shameful shift within the coalition forces where "missile factions have overtaken naval gun factions":

"How can you be a man without big guns?"

For many fervent military enthusiasts with a strong fascination for warships and cannons, naval guns are like a man's penis, and missiles are like a man-made penis. Although naval guns may not be superior in many aspects, such as size, firing range, and random ballistic trajectory, they are indispensable.

More rational people answered them:

"Isn't the 203mm rapid-fire naval gun one of the largest naval guns currently in service?"

"203 mm? 203 mm is only the largest naval gun of our time!" Irrational military enthusiasts are still writing to the coalition forces demanding an end to this drastic measure.

Regardless of their unreasonable demands, the Allied Naval Equipment Department still refused to have a serious discussion on the matter.

The 510mm naval gun has become a thing of the past, and will never be seen again.

When the Allied forces repeatedly replied that the 510mm naval guns would be permanently retired on six battleships, some media outlets suddenly mentioned:

"These will be the last, largest, most unique, and most historically significant three battleships in human history. As is customary, one will be named after each of China, Japan, and South Korea."

Yes, the naming of these three battleships will forever remain in history.

The naming of the second batch of three battleships, which should be the last surviving battleships in the world with the largest gun caliber, quickly sparked infighting among netizens from China, Japan, and South Korea.

Shandong netizens took the lead and began competing to name this rare event:

"Zhenhai was originally the name of the Northern warship, but by some twist of fate it was assigned to Zhenhai District of Ningbo City. Shouldn't the second one be the Northern warship?"

To create momentum, Shandong netizens called on friends from Henan, Hebei, Shanxi, and Northeast China to join the campaign.

Zhejiang netizens angrily retaliate:

"Bullshit! Zhenhai, Dinghai, and Ninghai are all in Zhejiang. The second battleship should be named here again."

After all, although the first Zhenhai warship used the name of the Fengtian warlord, it made a special trip to Zhenhai District in Ningbo during its return visit to China, which was seen by everyone as an acknowledgment that the place name belonged to this area.

Netizens from Shandong and Northeast China teamed up and launched a fierce attack, clashing head-on with netizens from Zhejiang.

"You're talking nonsense. Weihai, Jinghai, Dinghai, Ninghai, and Pinghai were originally place names in Shandong and Liaoning, but some of them declined and some were renamed Muping, Dengzhou, and Laizhou."

In the battleground where the most qualified contenders for the naming of the second ship were fighting tooth and nail, and when netizens from Shandong and Northeast China began calling on their friends in the North to join them, there were still those who stirred up trouble.

A netizen from Shanghai suddenly appeared and offered their suggestions:

"Shanghai also ends in 'sea,' so why can't it be called Shanghai? As a provincial-level municipality, we can't get the designation for an aircraft carrier or an amphibious assault ship, so giving it the name 'battleship' isn't too much to ask, is it?"

Shanghainese have their own unique perspectives and feel that they are suitable in all aspects.

However, this sparked collective discontent in neighboring provinces:

"Shanghai bastard, get the hell out of here."

"Do you deserve it?"

Suddenly, a netizen from Guangxi started whispering:

"It is not impossible for Beihai to participate in the name selection."

Netizens in Guangdong and Guangxi suddenly got excited, saying that there hasn't been a battleship named in the Pearl River Basin yet.

Guangxi's entry into the war opened the prelude to a nationwide upheaval.

A Hainan netizen made a very peculiar suggestion: "Isn't Haikou a kind of inverted 'Hai'? If I invert 'Kouhai' according to the language habits of Northeast China, it could also be used to participate in the ship name election."

The comments below are even harder to bear:

"What is the proper way to perform oral sex?"

"Friends from Hainan, don't be so shameless! You already have amphibious assault ships. Haikou isn't in Northeast China!"

A netizen from Qinghai offered a completely uninspired suggestion: "Qinghai is also a sea, so my Qinghai Lake can naturally participate in the ship name competition. Shanghai is just a municipality, but Qinghai is a proper provincial-level unit... although it's certain that it won't get any major ship names..."

"Where is Qinghai?" Many netizens were confused.

Unfortunately, Qinghai Province, a provincial-level unit with virtually no online presence and only appearing repeatedly in discussions about Lanzhou noodle chain stores, has sadly failed to attract attention.

But that's normal, considering it's the province of Akarin, which truly has no presence in the public eye.

A netizen from Inner Mongolia suddenly chimed in with a suggestion: "Isn't Wuhai City a sea?"

Netizens from neighboring Xinjiang also chimed in: "Why can't my Fuhai County be a sea?"

Taiwanese netizens suddenly came up with the strongest political correctness shield: "We could consider naming it Taiwan Province. We were the last province to return to the motherland, so we should have a commemoration."

In short, the naming of this last battleship in history sparked a nationwide online competition, with even Tibetans contributing their own names for Namtso Lake, turning it into the first National Oral Gymnastics Competition.

Because it's a fair allocation of one ship to each country, Japan and South Korea are also arguing about it.

South Korea actually fought even more fiercely, since their main objective was to criticize their opponents, and their secondary objective was to compete for the naming rights.

The recent crackdown on the democracy movement did not stop the public from finding reasons to launch a fierce war of words against each other.

The people of Gyeongsang Province felt that Lee Sung-ha was one of their own and should use Yeongnam (another name for Gyeongsang Province) as their pseudonym. The people of Jeolla Province felt that they were the embodiment of the democratic movement and that Lee Sung-ha should compensate them with the pseudonym Honam (another name for Jeolla Province).

On the South Korean government's side, Cho Gu-hwan suggested that the name should be nominated by the South Korean government itself, and he thought it should be called Korea or Seoul.

There have been related discussions in North Korea, and locals are somewhat aware of many events happening abroad. However, North Korea lacks sufficient connections, and it already has the Koryo, so although there was a joint proposal to name the ship "Korea," it didn't gain much traction.

The situation in Japan is slightly better.

Because almost everyone knows that the second battleship will most likely be named Shikishima, which is the only remaining national-level nickname for Japan, and it's the only suitable name given the tradition of inheriting naval ship names. Japan, Yashima, Yamato, and Musashi are all already taken, leaving only the special nickname Fusō. However, considering Fusō's history in World War II, there's a general desire to avoid any appearance of impropriety, so Shikishima, from the Russo-Japanese War era, is the more convenient name.

However, it still faced relentless pursuit from several prefectures. Tohoku Prefecture proposed calling it "Mutsu," which was met with strong opposition from the Dewa region. Osaka Prefecture proposed "Kinichi," which then embroiled them in a fierce battle with southeastern Kyushu over who was the true origin of Japanese civilization. Kyushu proposed "Satsuma," but this created a conflict with the political forces in Yamaguchi Prefecture. Remnants of the Choshu Domain, wanting to maintain their distance from Kyushu, appealed for the name "Choshu."

The people of Tokyo naturally found it even more absurd, wondering why Li Xinghe, being the boss of Tokyo, wasn't called the Tokyo.