Chapter 2084: Forget the Spring Festival Gala!

It was Zhao Fusheng's first time spending the Spring Festival abroad.

Not just him, but everyone in the family was experiencing this for the first time. Especially when watching the Spring Festival Gala, the whole family gathered together, and even Zhao Fusheng watched with interest for a while.

It wasn't until various New Year's greeting messages and calls came in one after another that Zhao Fusheng left the living room and went to the balcony to make phone calls.

Fortunately, not many people knew his number; those who weren't very close usually just sent a text message.

Zhao Fusheng didn't stand on ceremony either and replied to them with text messages.

The content was brief, mostly thanking the other party for sending blessings, and then wishing them a happy Spring Festival and family joy.

He typed them all by hand. Zhao Fusheng didn't like mass messaging because he felt it was perfunctory—not only to the other party but also to his own sincerity.

Either don't send, or if you do, make it sincere; otherwise, what's the point?

Fan Baobao deeply agreed with this.

In her words, receiving a bunch of mass messages made her not even want to reply.

After finally finishing the calls, Zhao Fusheng returned to the living room.

"Tell me, why is the Spring Festival Gala getting more and more boring?"

Zhao's mother looked at the TV and suddenly said.

"Exactly, the programs don't seem as good as before," Li Yuan also nodded.

"And this year, why did they invite foreign stars? What's that all about?" Zhao's father was even more dissatisfied.

In their eyes, the Spring Festival Gala was supposed to be a national celebration. Even putting a bunch of artists on stage would be more interesting than a noisy medley.

As for Korean stars and the like, while they were meant to attract young viewers, the problem was, how many young people actually liked sitting there watching a gala all night?

At least, in Zhao Fusheng's experience, few young people around him liked watching the Spring Festival Gala.

Because in their view, the gala's programs were too dull.

A perfectly good song would be sung by four or five people, with uneven skill levels and each singing only one line—it just didn't have that feeling.

"You people."

Zhao Fusheng watched from the side and said with a smile, "It's hard to please everyone—that's the Spring Festival Gala."

"The key is that it's really not good to watch now."

Zhao's mother shook her head: "The Spring Festival Gala when you were a child was so much better."

"Exactly, I remember back then every household had a TV, and during the Spring Festival Gala, it was packed with people," Zhao's father recalled the past.

In the eyes of the older generation, that was indeed the case.

Zhao Fusheng smiled.

Actually, he felt that this might not necessarily be the fault of CCTV or the director.

In the 1980s, an old CRT TV with only a few channels could make a family or several neighbors watch with great interest. Suddenly, like a spring breeze overnight, the Spring Festival Gala quietly entered thousands of households and never left.

A gala condensed an era, much like the recently popular '10-Year Challenge,' leaving a screen full of sighs about the passage of time, but fewer and fewer people loved watching the Spring Festival Gala.

We think the old Spring Festival Gala sketches were good because they were a microcosm of the times. However, in recent years, the Spring Festival Gala sketches haven't given up drawing material from real life.

Perhaps it's not that the Spring Festival Gala has become less enjoyable, but that the times have changed.

Zhao Fusheng undoubtedly had the deepest experience of this.

As a time traveler, Zhao Fusheng understood the changes in the Spring Festival Gala even better.

In the era of mobile internet, we can find substitutes for Spring Festival Gala sketches at any moment, and it's hard to hold expectations for the gala. The life of a group of people gathered around the TV is long gone.

On New Year's Eve, the TV is on at home, but the family might be playing on their phones, cracking sunflower seeds, drinking tea, occasionally looking up to see a sketch actor on TV shout, 'Happy New Year.'

The catchphrases that circulated all year felt bland when used in the Spring Festival Gala sketches. Zhao Fusheng remembered clearly how awkward he felt when he heard certain trendy words in the Spring Festival Gala back then.

The Spring Festival Gala should create catchphrases, not copy them.

Under these circumstances, the Spring Festival Gala naturally became harder to produce.

The decline in program quality was one thing, but more importantly, the audience's aesthetic standards had risen.

"You kid, why so many words!"

Zhao's father glared, waved his hand, and said to Zhao Fusheng, "Go coax your son!"

Zhao Fusheng was speechless.

So when you can't win an argument, you just kick me out, huh?

No choice, he was his own father after all.

Zhao Fusheng had to get up, pick up his precious son, and wander off to the side.

Fan Baobao covered her mouth and laughed, handed her daughter to Zhao's mother, and went over to accompany Zhao Fusheng.

"Why are you here?"

Zhao Fusheng was a bit surprised to see Fan Baobao.

"Afraid you won't take good care of him."

Pointing at their precious son, Fan Baobao said with a smile.

Zhao Fusheng felt helpless; so he was benefiting from his son's presence, otherwise Fan Baobao wouldn't have come over.

"Is this really okay?" Zhao Fusheng asked helplessly.

"What's wrong?"

Fan Baobao asked blankly.

"If you keep neglecting me, you might lose me easily." Zhao Fusheng blinked.

"Oh, will I?"

Fan Baobao gently licked her lips at Zhao Fusheng.

"Ahem..."

Zhao Fusheng's heart stirred instantly.

Taking a deep breath, looking up, silently recalling the teachings of the Harmony God, Zhao Fusheng decisively backed down, handed his son to Fan Baobao, and went upstairs.

Although he wanted to have some fun, the problem was that the law didn't allow it!

This was probably the most frustrating thing for all men: having all the skills but no place to use them.

...

...

Italy didn't celebrate the Spring Festival, or rather, the festivals in foreigners' eyes certainly didn't include the Spring Festival.

So the next day, when Zhao Fusheng took a boat out and arrived at the shore, he found everything as usual.

Only when passing through Chinese neighborhoods could he feel the Eastern atmosphere from things like Spring Festival couplets.

"Happy Spring Festival."

"Happy New Year."

When Chinese people saw compatriots, they would greet each other with a Happy New Year.

Zhao Fusheng finally understood why people said they would be happy to see compatriots abroad—because when you hear those hometown accents, the feeling is absolutely different.

Surrounded by foreigners with blond hair and blue eyes, occasionally seeing an Eastern face, and that person being from China like himself.

That feeling was hard to describe in words.

"Chairman, we'd better go to the office."

The bodyguard beside him interrupted Zhao Fusheng's thoughts helplessly.

Zhao Fusheng nodded: "Got it, got it."

Future Group had an office in Italy, after all, there were many international brands here, especially in cities like Milan and Rome, which were famous worldwide.

What Zhao Fusheng had to do today was to represent the company and慰问 the employees who were still on duty here during the holiday.

He hadn't planned to go initially, but Zheng Yao gave him this task with a phone call.

In Zheng Yao's words, you, the chairman, are so close and you don't go; we fly halfway across the globe—are we out of our minds?

Although Zhao Fusheng wanted to retort, Zheng Yao didn't give him a chance and hung up directly.

Zhao Fusheng had no choice but to accept the task.

Gritting his teeth, he consoled himself: no matter what, this was his own company, and they were working for him, so it was only natural to慰问 them.

Europe was really too small; driving a few hours could take you from one country to another.

To exaggerate a bit, you could visit several places.

Zhao Fusheng and his team drove and soon arrived in Milan.

After慰问ing the office members who were still at their posts during the Spring Festival and leaving a few red envelopes, Zhao Fusheng left.

"Chairman, are we going straight back?"

The bodyguard beside him asked Zhao Fusheng.

"Otherwise?"

Zhao Fusheng was a bit puzzled, looked at him, not understanding what he meant.

"Milan is the fashion capital." The man said one sentence and then fell silent.

Zhao Fusheng was taken aback, then realized his meaning—he was reminding him.

"Right, right, I'll give you a bonus when we get back."

Zhao Fusheng laughed.

If he went back empty-handed, Fan Baobao would definitely throw a fit, and maybe his mother would be unhappy too.

Men and women always think differently.

So places like Milan, Paris, New York, Los Angeles—try not to go if you can avoid it. If you go and don't bring gifts for the women at home, you're basically doomed.

At least, that's what Zhao Fusheng thought.