Chapter 422
You are all so ignorant
Chapter 422 You are all so ignorant
After this secret meeting filled with intrigue and scheming, Fang Ge went straight to NBC's "Late Show" as planned.
In 2007, The Oprah Winfrey Show and The Late Show were the two kings of the talk show genre.
The Oprah Winfrey Show excels in the depth of its interviews, the star power of its guests, and their social influence, while late-night shows excel in viewership, a relaxed atmosphere, and online influence.
This time, Fang Xinghe needs a lighthearted and absurd comedic atmosphere.
"So, everybody, welcome our super, super, super super superstar, Star River!"
Host Conan O'Brien, with an exaggeratedly drawn-out tone, invited Fang Xinghe onto the stage.
This guy is a cult idol for today's young audience (18-34 years old), with a crazy style, and can be called a cult king.
You need a strong heart to be interviewed by him.
Because in most cases, the interview process is unscripted and consists entirely of various impromptu illnesses, which greatly tests the guest's quality and responsiveness.
Therefore, this show is not able to invite top celebrities. Even when they do, they usually play supporting roles to Conan. Most of the show's viewers are only loyal to Conan.
But coincidentally, your brother Fang loves to be a bit irritable, and who knows who will be tormenting whom today.
The opening and the ending will be omitted.
During the process, Conan indeed asked about the current pace.
His tone was interesting; it sounded quite gloating.
"Wow, SR, how did you offend the fighting game community?"
"Me?" Fang Xinghe immediately retorted, his face full of disdain. "Given the difference between me and them, are you sure you want to use the word 'offend'?"
Fang Xinghe's eyes were filled with disappointment towards Conan, which roughly meant 'How could you be so stupid?', which was very entertaining.
"Wow, wow, wow! So you mean they don't deserve to be 'offended' by you at all, is that right?"
Conan leaned back exaggeratedly, as if trying to avoid Fang Xinghe's humiliation, a very funny reaction.
"Look at him, this is our Holy Son, looking down on everyone equally, including me. But suddenly I think he's so handsome, friends, what's going on?"
The audience burst into laughter, and some women shouted, "Yes, he's so handsome!"
The United States does not value moderation, humility, or restraint, and Fang Xinghe's arrogance thrives there.
"so……"
The handsome man turned his head and smiled slightly, easily taking over the rhythm.
"Aren't you going to use a different adjective to properly describe this farce?"
"Oh no!" Conan clutched his head in panic. "He cornered me, grabbed my throat, and punched me twice... Now I'm going to offend the fighting world!"
【Ha ha ha ha!】
The laughter from the audience continued and grew louder.
"Then come on." Fang Xinghe coaxed Conan in a very tempting tone, "Help me think of a new description to offend them to death, and then we'll be friends—I don't usually hit my friends."
"Then I want to be your friend!"
Conan immediately changed his tune, showing both cowardice and tact.
Finally, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he came up with an amusing description that he had probably prepared beforehand.
"Okay, okay, you didn't offend anyone. You were just quietly promoting your new movie. It's just that your dazzling light stung some people."
They were probably masturbating in the dark, having a blast, when you suddenly caught them in the act. At first, they were completely bewildered, then they were furious… *sigh*!
Halfway through his description, Conan burst out laughing.
These words aren't particularly offensive, but they're incredibly vivid. If you're good at making associations, it's hard not to laugh.
And upon closer reflection, isn't this the most appropriate interpretation?
Fang Xinghe gave a thumbs-up, using body language to express his agreement, but his words were sarcastic: "You really have a life!"
The implication is: You must have experienced this, otherwise you couldn't have described it so accurately.
Conan stared wide-eyed, frozen in place, his face filled with disbelief.
—Why is the fire back on me?!
He didn't say anything, but the audience understood, and they continued to burst into laughter.
Stand-up comedy relies heavily on creating entertaining content, but the best results can never be achieved by the host alone.
Interesting guests can bring unexpected surprises to a program, thereby maximizing its reach and impact.
Now, Fang Xinghe has done it.
In this tacit understanding and spark, many things that would be very dry if said directly suddenly become very attractive.
For example, Conan's next attempt to "stir things up."
"My good friend, I've already offended the entire fighting world for you, so what are we going to do now? Were you already prepared to take the blame for me?"
I'm sorry, but I'm really scared. If they don't hit you, they're probably going to hit me instead..."
"That would be great!"
Amid Conan's astonished expression, Fang Xinghe, filled with envy, made a reference to a later Chinese internet meme.
"If I were you, I'd already be thinking about a new car, at least a Rolls-Royce or a Ferrari, one for every punch."
The scene froze for a moment—it took the audience a while to understand what he meant, and then they burst into laughter.
【Ha ha ha ha!】
My goodness, he's so funny!
When is he going to make a comedy? I'll definitely take the whole family to see it.
Conan couldn't keep up immediately either, shaking his head with a look of bewilderment.
"Okay, I'll think about it. I'll trade a tooth for a Rolls-Royce..."
"Not which one," Fang Xinghe corrected seriously. "It's which side. One punch takes away half a mouthful of teeth, and the next punch takes away another half, which is why I only mentioned Rolls-Royce and Ferrari—you can only exchange for two at most."
The scene was chaotic, but Fang Xinghe, who was seriously trying to be funny, was really hilarious. Although he wasn't actually a comedian, his out-of-date jokes were called "dimensional reduction attacks".
Conan slumped in his chair, finally managing to laugh enough, then got up and wiped his eyes.
“Jesus, let’s continue! I’m curious, if you were to face them, would it be the same? I mean, a punch and a mouthful of teeth?”
"No, that won't happen."
Fang Xinghe denied it without even thinking.
"A chance encounter on the street, 1v1, the person who can beat me hasn't been born yet."
"Huh?" Conan's eyes widened. "You're really... uh, too confident..."
"There's no way around it, my strength doesn't allow me to be too low-key."
Fang Xinghe spread his hands, and the witty remarks he would never utter in China came out of his mouth in the United States.
【Wow!】
A gasp rippled through the audience; some were skeptical, others dismissive, but no one believed it entirely.
Conan knew exactly what the audience wanted to see, so he pressed on, asking, "What if the opponent was Tyson in his prime?"
Without hesitation, Fang Xinghe replied, "Run! You don't actually think he can outrun me, do you?"
"what?"
Conan was dumbfounded, then burst into laughter along with the others.
"That's true. Those who can outrun you can't beat you. Those who can beat you can't outrun you. You are truly invincible, the esteemed king of the streets!"
【Ha ha ha ha!】
Laughter filled the air, creating a lively atmosphere.
Everyone got it; Fang Xinghe's words were clearly a joke, part of a TV show.
Even in a Darwinian society like the United States, one cannot be arrogant and forceful all the time, otherwise it will create a rebellious mentality.
A good balance of tension and relaxation is the best rhythm for output. Moreover, Conan's additional statement instantly established a visual image in the minds of all viewers—invincible in street fighting.
Upon closer examination, it is indeed very convincing.
Fang Xinghe's speed has always been praised; he was top-tier during his NBA days.
His fighting ability is also widely recognized. No one denies that he is very strong. Even his haters only think that he can't beat those professional top fighters in the ring.
The most intriguing aspect of this trend is precisely this: just how far is Fang Xinghe from being a top-tier fighter?
Conan asked this crucial question.
"So, what if it's in a ring? Under standard UFC fighting rules?"
Fang Xinghe spread his hands, his expression indifferent, and his tone no longer sarcastic.
"Within a weight difference of 15 kilograms, I will not lose to anyone."
【Wow!】
The crowd gasped in surprise, and the audience erupted in a frenzy for the nth time.
This sounded incredibly unbelievable, and Fang Ge's expression was incredibly firm and composed.
Conan knows how to stir up trouble, with a simple rhetorical question: "Why should I?"
"Based on my skills."
When it comes to showing off, Fang Xinghe doesn't hold back.
Conan pressed on: "How can you prove it?"
"You know nothing about Chinese Kung Fu."
Fang Xinghe calmly stood up, stretched out his right arm, and opened his palm to the side: "Sword, come!"
Honestly, saying that in English is really awkward.
Sword, come!
Think about it carefully, what kind of person is this?
But this is a late-night show, and the main audience for the program is very young cult enthusiasts, so this is called targeted marketing.
Therefore, as long as the performer's conviction is strong enough, the one who will feel awkward will be the one with social anxiety, not you, Fang Ge.
On the Self-Cultivation of a Best Actor, by Fang Xinghe.
……
This was actually a pre-arranged segment, but Conan still dutifully opened his mouth wide and pretended to be astonished.
On the right side of the stage, the program assistant, who was not on camera, threw Fang Xinghe's practice sword, sheath and all, onto the stage.
Perhaps it was due to nervousness, or perhaps it was because the sheathed longsword was difficult to balance, but in any case, it went astray, and quite badly at that.
Just as the sword was about to swerve and glide past Fang Xinghe's fingertips, landing to his side, gasps of surprise were already rising from the audience, about to spill out. But the Martial Saint remained calm and simply kicked it lightly.
The instep of a leather-shoe kicked the sword, causing it to roll backward half a circle.
Fang Xinghe pulled his foot back, then lifted it to the side, his heel striking the end of the sword hilt, causing the longsword to tumble and rise upwards.
After two dazzling maneuvers, the sword hilt obediently landed in Fang Xinghe's still open hand. He clenched his fist, swung his arm down, and with a snap, the scabbard was flung off.
The longsword was drawn from its sheath, its blade gleaming like water.
The longsword was pulled back and swung again, the second beam of light intersecting with the first, leaving a "乂" shape on the audience's retina.
The entire sequence of movements was fluid and seamless, executed in the blink of an eye, from drawing the sword to striking a pose—all done in a high-quality yet unexpected manner, leaving the audience breathless.
Oh my god!
American audiences are uncultured, they travel the world, oh my god.
The entire audience gasped in amazement, stunned by Fang Xinghe's handsomeness.
But this is just the beginning.
After the action froze for a second, Fang Wusheng truly unleashed his ultimate move.
With a graceful, sideways movement, he pressed down with his sword, the tip tracing a beautiful, meteor-like trajectory as it pierced Conan's desktop.
wa……
Before Conan could utter even half a cry of surprise, he heard a crisp sound—a pen holder sat on the table, containing several fountain pens, pencils, and ballpoint pens. The sharp tip of the sword precisely pierced the middle of the pen cap clip, and with a gentle flick of Fang Xinghe's wrist, the fountain pen obediently flew up.
Next up is a dreamlike demonstration of basic swordsmanship.
The basics are sword techniques, which are nothing more than the basic skills of pointing, thrusting, picking, and sweeping.
What's amazing is Fang Xinghe's agility, precision, and rhythm. He moves with his sword, as nimble as a dragon. His longsword draws streaks of light in the air, and his pen dances in mid-air like a little elf.
ding ding ding ding...
Five swords, six swords, seven swords, eight swords...
The sword technique is swift and agile. When the sword is drawn, the movement and the blade are not visible at all. However, there is a clear instantaneous image when it hits the pen. It looks like a lot of force, but the pen does not bounce high. It is like a thread, always hovering near the tip of the sword.
Precise, accurate, and meticulous.
The sword-wielding feel beyond comprehension, the superhuman control, and the unparalleled reflexes combined to create an unprecedented display of skill.
Perhaps people cannot understand the difficulty of the entire performance, but everyone can feel its beauty.
It was a self-evident, unthinking, subconscious, intuitive feeling.
What a nice view.
Very competitive.
so amazing!
In the final move, the longsword thrust out, its tip finally wedged firmly into the pen clip.
The Martial Saint Fang Heng held out his long sword to Conan, the tip of the sword and the pen together stopping 10 centimeters in front of him.
The camera zoomed in, giving Conan a close-up.
He froze, dumbfounded, his pupils shrinking to tiny points as he stared blankly at the tip of the sword.
Fang Xinghe flicked his wrist with a flourish, turning the longsword from vertical to horizontal, and the pen did the same.
Then, the show-off chuckled and said, "Returning it to its rightful owner. Also... I hope your pen wasn't too expensive."
Conan then came to his senses, and with trembling hands, he took the pen off the tip of the sword and examined it over and over.
"Jesus...Oh my god...Holy shit..."
One exclamation after another uttered, and the cult representative was finally defeated by an even more wicked sword technique, losing his sharp tongue and only able to babble.
"How did you do that? My God! It's an incredible miracle! Am I dreaming?"
His exclamation caused an explosion at the scene.
"cool!"
"Ah ah ah ah ah!"
"Fang Fang Fang!"
"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!"
Cheers, gasps, and whistles mingled together, nearly lifting the roof off.
No wonder they were shocked; Americans have never seen anything like this before.
Well, on another note, it seems like Chinese people haven't seen this kind of performance before either?
The audience went completely crazy. Their hearts were pounding, their blood was rushing, and all sorts of hormones were surging up. They were in a frenzy.
Meanwhile, Fang Xinghe had already sat back on the sofa, comfortably crossed his legs, and resumed his composed demeanor.
When it comes to showing off, your brother is the real pro.
The studio was in chaos for a while. Just when Conan finally regained his senses, the arrogant king's casual remark sent him crashing against the wall again.
He proudly raised his head and said—
"This is the real Chinese Kung Fu. You know almost nothing about the cruelty and magnificence of 5000 years of cold weapon warfare."
The room became slightly noisy when the conversation began.
After he finished speaking, the scene fell silent, without any further sound.
(End of this chapter)