Chapter 1847: A Gala Full of Gripes

When it came to charity, Zhao Fusheng didn't actually think too much about it. In his view, whether it was his mother, Li Yuan, Fan Baobao, or himself, doing this was purely about giving back to society.

Of course, if they could gain something else from it, that was only right.

After all, if you give, you should get something in return.

Not everyone does charity like Brother Biao.

Even he is very high-profile.

Moreover, many people don't actually know the true face behind this 'World's Greatest Philanthropist.'

Zhao Fusheng didn't know either; even in his past life, he only heard rumors, nothing substantial.

But he felt that if someone was willing to spend real money on good deeds, it was ultimately a good thing.

Compared to those who are rich but unkind, at least he was willing to take action and effort to do good and help those in need—that was enough.

Especially compared to those Chinese celebrities who often promise donations but never deliver, this guy at least had some integrity.

Zhao Fusheng himself certainly didn't plan to fake donations or play any fame-seeking tricks. He also believed that his mother and mother-in-law were not that kind of people.

So when his mother hesitated, Zhao Fusheng asked what was on his mind.

Unexpectedly, his mother's words made him feel especially warm.

It turned out that what his mother worried about was still him.

With a slight smile, Zhao Fusheng waved his hand: "Mom, you're overthinking it. Charity isn't like you imagine—you two don't have to go to the countryside personally. We have a special foundation handling this. You mainly just need to show up in public and attend events if there are any."

He paused, then continued: "Besides, I think it's a good thing. At least it can improve the company's image and set an example for the kids' growth."

The last sentence immediately made Zhao's mother and Li Yuan's eyes light up.

For their generation, children's education and growth were undoubtedly very important.

The most common phrase that post-70s and post-80s hear from their parents is: 'Back in my day, I did this and that, but I couldn't achieve something, so you must do this and that.'

Hoping for one's children to succeed is the mindset of most Chinese parents.

This was especially evident in Li Yuan and Zhao's mother.

So after hearing Zhao Fusheng's words, Zhao's mother was clearly tempted.

In fact, Zhao's mother even looked at Li Yuan, full of inquiry: "What do you think?"

"Not bad."

Li Yuan nodded and said to Zhao's mother: "I think Fusheng is right. It's worth a try."

"Then let's try it."

Zhao's mother finally nodded in agreement.

"For the initial investment, I'll put in ten million." Zhao Fusheng said to the two elders: "You just need to show up at events."

"Ten million?"

Zhao's mother and Li Yuan exchanged glances, a bit surprised: "Isn't that too much?"

In their minds, even donating to education and charity, a few hundred thousand at most was the limit. Zhao Fusheng's opening with ten million really caught them off guard.

Zhao Fusheng smiled and waved his hand: "Don't argue with me on this. Since we're doing it, we should do it perfectly, don't you think?"

Zhao's mother and Li Yuan looked at each other and had to nod.

They didn't understand these matters; they would just follow whatever Zhao Fusheng said.

When Zhao's father finished his phone call and heard about this, he was also a bit surprised but still supported the idea, as he wasn't the kind of merchant without a conscience.

Since it was Spring Festival, watching the Spring Festival Gala was a must.

The family sat together in the living room, watching the programs on TV.

"This is interesting." Zhao's mother and Li Yuan whispered to each other.

"Indeed, it's good."

Watching the martial arts performance, Zhao's father nodded in satisfaction.

Fan Baobao sat on the sofa, chatting with Fan Beibei about something.

As for Zhao Fusheng, he was very bored...

He had never been a fan of the Spring Festival Gala, and honestly, the programs were either ones he had seen in his past life or lacked novelty, so he couldn't muster any interest.

To be honest, if there were a social media feed at this moment, it would be filled with complaints about the gala.

When bored, Zhao Fusheng looked for familiar faces on TV, seeing which people he knew had made it onto the gala.

At some point, the Spring Festival Gala started having multiple venues across the country, with the capital as the main venue.

"Don't you think the appearance fees for the gala must be huge?" Zhao's mother and Li Yuan discussed, watching so many stars on stage.

"No, you're overthinking it."

As actors, Fan Baobao and Zhao Fusheng knew some people in the entertainment industry. Hearing their mothers, they smiled and explained.

"Really?" The two mothers clearly didn't believe it.

Fan Baobao explained with a smile: "Really. At the Spring Festival Gala, there's basically no chance to throw a diva fit. Everyone gets roughly the same treatment. This is a platform watched even by national leaders. If you act up, you'll be completely blacklisted!"

"That serious."

Zhao's mother and Li Yuan were a bit surprised; they hadn't thought of that.

Zhao Fusheng nodded: "CCTV has always been domineering."

That was the truth.

"This is our..."

On the screen, the host was being sentimental, recounting the country's achievements and progress over the past year.

For many Westerners, it might be hard to understand why Chinese people greet the New Year and celebrate New Year's Eve with joy and laughter on this day.

But for Chinese people, it's a tradition spanning thousands of years.

Rich or poor, go home for the New Year.

These eight words, unless truly experienced, cannot be understood.

One had to admit that while the Spring Festival Gala's programs might not satisfy everyone, the atmosphere was really good—joyful, festive, peaceful, and lively.

For example, no matter who you are, you might not like singing and dancing, but seeing a group of young people performing a lion dance in front of you wouldn't make you feel uncomfortable, right?

Of course, watching on TV and being close to the stage felt different.

"I wonder what it would be like if our family could watch the Spring Festival Gala live someday." Zhao's father suddenly sighed.

Zhao Fusheng rolled his eyes: "If you donate some money to CCTV, I bet you could go. They might even give you a banner and a good seat, showing your face to the whole nation."

"Huh?"

Zhao's father was stunned: "Really?"

Zhao Fusheng shrugged: "How would I know..."

Then he added casually: "Besides, look at the gala now. It's getting more and more boring and official. The atmosphere has changed from a party to a report meeting. Even if you went, you'd probably find it dull."

Zhao's father nodded and sighed: "That's true. I also feel the gala isn't as interesting as it used to be."

That was the truth. As someone who had witnessed the gala from its inception, Zhao's father had watched almost every one. He knew that the gala was indeed becoming less interesting, just as his son said.

This was evident from the ratings and public reaction.

In the past, on New Year's Eve, many people considered watching the gala as important as having the reunion dinner. But now...

Heh, for most people, the gala was just an ordinary show—they could watch it or not, and missing it wasn't a big deal.

Years ago, that was completely impossible.

If you didn't watch the gala, it felt like you were out of touch with society.

"You two really know how to overthink things."

At that moment, Zhao's mother glared at the father and son and said helplessly: "Just watch TV."

The father and son exchanged glances and obediently shut up, focusing on the TV.

The Spring Festival Gala looked lively and festive, but to insiders, it had many problems. For instance, the program schedule was often too tight.

The reason was simple: due to the midnight countdown, some programs had to be shortened, cut, or postponed until after midnight.

Then came the problem: the ratings before and after midnight were completely different.

So, programs that aired before midnight were often considered the highlight.

Unfortunately, Zhao Fusheng didn't really enjoy watching it.

Or rather, he had no goodwill toward that entertainment bigwig who pretended to be a farmer his whole life but ended up keeping a low profile.

As midnight approached, Zhao Fusheng stood up to go to his room to rest.

He had never been interested in staying up late on New Year's Eve.

"You're not watching anymore?"

Fan Baobao asked casually.

Zhao Fusheng nodded: "Yeah, I'm a bit sleepy. I'll go upstairs to rest."

"Okay."

No one found it strange; it was perfectly normal.

Back in his room, Zhao Fusheng turned on his computer and started browsing posts about the Spring Festival Gala online.

Just as he had said, it was full of complaints.

"Hmm, interesting."

Looking at various hot posts online, Zhao Fusheng suddenly thought that if Weibo existed, the gala would definitely be the top trending topic.

If he remembered correctly, similar products were already emerging online. Wang Xing, who started with Xiaonei.com, sold his company to Qianxiang Interactive in 2006 and then created China's first microblog-style social network, Fanfou, in May last year. Meanwhile, Tencent, with its 400 million users, saw the strong demand for users to post their status anytime and launched Taotao in August last year.

It seemed that microblogging had become an irreversible trend.