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Chapter 2654 The Kill Line Revealed in Advance

Suning's remarks about studying abroad in a CCTV interview were like a bombshell, causing a huge uproar in the public opinion field.

In the days following the broadcast, newspapers were filled with commentary articles, each with a more sensational headline than the last.

"Suning's Xenophobic Logic," "The Nationalism of the Nouveau Riche," "The Dangerous Remarks of the Head of the Tianchao Group"...

These headlines appeared repeatedly in the opinion sections of major newspapers.

Pro-foreign individuals and study abroad agencies were the first to jump out, focusing all their criticism on Suning.

Some say Suning is engaging in populism; others say Suning has a nouveau riche mentality and can't stand seeing others succeed; still others bring up the old stories of Tianchao Auto's early days, saying that Suning also started by importing equipment, and now that it's powerful, it's thinking of abandoning its supporters.

Several agencies jointly issued a public statement with extremely strong language, saying that Suning's evaluation of the study abroad industry was "seriously inaccurate" and "irresponsibly damaged the industry's reputation," and demanded that Suning issue a public apology.

After the statement was released, Li Hui showed it to Su Ning with a headache. Su Ning just glanced at it and put it aside. "They're not worried that I'm wrong. They're worried that if I'm too right, no one will come to them for study abroad services anymore."

"But this wave of public opinion has put us under a lot of pressure."

"Don't rush! You can't build something new without breaking the old! If our Tianchao Group develops step by step, its potential and speed will only be so-so, so we need to accelerate this process."

"Reverse hype?"

"Haha, Director Li, this isn't a case of reverse hype, is it? My arguments are perfectly fair and impartial."

"..." At this moment, Li Hui was also confused about his boss.

So they stopped saying anything and could only let the public relations department try their best to quell the fire.

This time, Suning did not have its legal department issue a lawyer's letter, nor did it have its public relations department issue any statement.

Knowing that lawyer's letters and statements are meaningless, this time I need to fight the public opinion head-on.

Just like the previous public opinion battle over the employment system, Suning doesn't plan to engage in another war of words with those media outlets.

But I have to do something, something even more ruthless than sending a lawyer's letter.

A batch of AI robots were directly deployed from the space world, forming dozens of interview teams. Each team was equipped with high-definition cameras, professional audio recording equipment, and satellite transmission equipment.

These AI robots don't need to adjust to time zones, don't even need to apply for visas, and aren't picky about accommodation. They can start working immediately upon arrival.

Suning's instructions to each team were simple and clear: go to the local Chinese community and find those who had originally gone out with dreams in their hearts.

Instead of targeting successful people in affluent areas or high-paid elites in Silicon Valley, we target ordinary working-class people and low- to middle-income groups.

Record their real lives without any narration, commentary, filters, or editing techniques; just film what the interviewees say.

It's important to have a clear understanding of the lives, taxes, and pressures faced by these people, instead of being misled by the media and intermediaries.

……

A few months later, a three-hour documentary was edited and named "The Other Shore".

Tianchao Group has purchased prime-time slots on several mainstream satellite TV channels in China and simultaneously launched them on video websites and major portal websites.

The documentary opens with no narration, no background music, and even the subtitles are in the simplest Song typeface.

The first shot is of a basement in Flushing, New York.

The camera pans down a narrow staircase, footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

A Chinese man in his forties sat on a worn-out cloth sofa. Yellowed newspapers were pasted on the wall behind him, and several garbage bags full of empty bottles were piled in the corner.

He was wearing a faded plaid shirt, his hands resting on his knees, his knuckles large and deformed, clearly a consequence of years of soaking in dishwater.

The reporter asked the man from behind the camera, "How long have you been in the United States?"

"It's been almost twenty years." The man's voice was very calm, without any inflection, as if he were talking about something that had little to do with him.

But this reveals his numbness and detachment, as if he has lost all interest in the future and in life.

The man continued to describe his past, "Back in China, I was a middle school teacher, teaching math. I had a permanent position, a secure job. At that time, I heard people say that America was full of opportunities, and that dishwashers could earn more in a month than teachers in China could earn in a year. So I borrowed money to come here, thinking that I could live a good life."

"And then what?" the reporter asked.

"When I arrived, I found that the language barrier and cultural differences were huge, making communication difficult. I couldn't understand what people were saying, and they couldn't understand what I was saying either. My academic qualifications weren't recognized either; my teacher's certificate was just a piece of paper here. I couldn't do anything else but wash dishes in a restaurant."

The man held out his hands to the camera, revealing bulging knuckles and skin as rough as tree bark. "I've washed dishes in Chinese restaurants for over twenty years, and this is how my hands turned out. I sent all my savings back to my hometown to pay off debts, and now I can't even afford a plane ticket back to China."

The reporter asked, "What about your family?"

“My child was born and raised in the United States. He thinks my English is bad, that I am incompetent, and that I am a disgrace to him. He speaks English with me at home, and I say I can't understand it. He says, ‘Then you should learn!’ But after twenty years, I still can’t speak it well.”

The reporter asked, "Do you regret it?"

The man looked up at the camera and remained silent for a long time.

The camera remained focused on the man's face, without cutting away. "Of course I regret it! But the living conditions in America are indeed better than in China. However, the better living conditions are only one aspect, and they cannot cover up what our family has lost."

The scene then cuts to a shared room in East London.

The room was very small, only about seven or eight square meters. A single bed took up most of the space, and there was a brick wall outside the window, so no sunlight could get in.

A woman in her early thirties sat on the edge of the bed and said to the camera, "I came to the UK to study for a master's degree in business. My family emptied their savings to send me here. After graduation, I couldn't find a job for half a year. I submitted hundreds of resumes and went to more than a dozen interviews. Every time, they would say that the visa was a problem."

The reporter asked her, "So what happened next?"

“I went illegal once my visa expired. I’m working illegally at a Chinese restaurant, from 10 a.m. to 11 p.m., with room and board included, and I get a few hundred pounds a month,” the woman said, pointing outside the room. “I share this room with seven other people. The kitchen drain has been clogged for months and no one has fixed it. The water heater is intermittent; in winter, I’d be showering and the water would be completely cold. Once, I had such bad stomach pain in the middle of the night that I didn’t dare call an ambulance because I knew the bill would bankrupt me. And I can’t afford to go to the hospital either. No matter what the illness is, every second you spend in a doctor’s office costs money, even if they don’t prescribe any medicine.”

At this point, the woman suddenly laughed, but the laugh was more like a grimace. "My mother always tells relatives back home that her daughter is a white-collar worker in England, wearing high heels and sitting in an office, having afternoon tea by the Thames. Every time I call home, I only tell them good news, because I know they can't help me, they can only worry about me. To this day, she doesn't know that her daughter lives in a row house shared by eight people, and has to wash vegetables and dishes in the kitchen every day."

The reporter paused for a few seconds, then asked, "So what do you plan to do?"

“I don’t know. I want to go back, but I don’t know how. I’ve spent so much of my family’s money, how can I explain it when I go back? When people ask me how England is, what should I say? That I washed dishes in London for three years? I really can’t bring myself to say that. Since I’ve chosen this path, I have to keep going even if it’s a bottomless abyss.”

The camera then shifts to low-rent housing in the northern suburbs of Paris.

The residents here are almost all immigrants; the walls of the stairwells are covered in graffiti, and the lights in the elevator flicker on and off.

A man in his fifties sat on a balcony piled with clutter, with a few faded clothes hanging on the balcony. “I have lived in France for more than 20 years and still have not obtained permanent residency. I have changed several employers but none of them are willing to help me with my immigration status.”

“I’ve done all the jobs that the French don’t want to do… I’ve slaughtered pigs at the slaughterhouse, carried cement on construction sites, and sorted garbage at the garbage collection station. My back is ruined from all the work; it hurts so much I can’t straighten up after standing for a long time. I don’t have health insurance, and I’ve been waiting in line for two years at a public hospital and still can’t get in.” “To get legal status, my ex-wife remarried a Frenchman and took our son with her. Now I’m all alone.”

The reporter asked, "Do you want to go back to China?"

Upon hearing this question, the man remained silent for a long time, so long that the sound engineer off-camera thought the equipment was broken and looked down to check the recording level.

Then the man said dejectedly, “I’ll have nothing when I go back. I sold the house, quit my job, and all my relatives and friends think I’m enjoying life in France. What am I going to tell them? That I worked hard in France for twenty years, now my back is ruined, I haven’t saved a penny, and my son has left with my ex-wife? I really can’t bring myself to say that.”

Then, the man turned to look out the window at the gray walls of another low-rent building. "I'm not going back. I'll just rot here! If there's an afterlife, I'd rather starve to death at home than come out. Only today did I understand the saying: Wolves travel a thousand miles to eat meat, dogs travel a thousand miles to eat excrement."

The documentary's footage constantly switches between several continents.

A Chinese housewife who has lived in Los Angeles for over a decade said to the camera, "The convenience store near my home was robbed three times last year, and I never dare to go out alone at night."

“My husband works the night shift, and when I’m home alone, I tremble all over at the slightest noise outside. Last time, someone broke into a house on the next street and robbed the homeowner. The robber held a gun to the homeowner’s head and took all the valuables. The next day, I went to see that neighbor, and she said she was moving. I asked her where she was moving to, and she said she would move to wherever it was safe. I asked her where it was safe, and she said she didn’t know.”

A young man working in Philadelphia's Chinatown sat on the steps by the street, stretching out his arm to the camera, which was covered with needle marks. "I picked up this bad habit after coming to America. Several of my coworkers used it, saying it would make them feel less tired and help them integrate into the local society better. I tried it once and couldn't quit. This is my fourth time trying to quit, and I don't know if I can quit this time."

"Then why did you come to America in the first place?"

The young man rubbed his fingers together, head down. "Back then, I thought everything in America was great. Looking back now, I was so naive. There's no such thing as paradise in this world. No matter where you go, you'll face all sorts of problems."

A Chinese restaurant owner in Baltimore pointed to a crack in the glass door of his restaurant and said, “This was pierced by a stray bullet from the gunfight across the street last month. The bullet flew over the customers’ heads and embedded itself in the wall. There were two tables of customers eating in the restaurant at the time, and everyone was lying on the ground. There were about a dozen shots, and after they stopped, I looked up and saw a row of bullet holes in the wall.”

"Then why don't you move away?"

"Where can I move to? The places with cheap rent are all in bad security, and I can't afford to rent in the safe places. Running a restaurant is already a low-profit business. If I move to another place and the rent doubles, I'll have worked for nothing."

Amsterdam's red-light district, the stench of urine in the Paris metro, shop windows smashed late at night in Sydney's Chinatown...

……

These images were presented to domestic audiences in such a concentrated and naked manner for the first time.

This naturally shocked everyone; the documentary shattered their illusions.

However, Suning's decisive victory over those people was not that simple; the documentary also included a set of data for comparison.

The film crew interviewed thousands of ordinary overseas Chinese families, and the results were displayed on the screen in black and white: less than one-tenth of them had stable incomes and decent lives.

More than two-thirds of respondents said their quality of life was lower than that of their peers with the same education and income in China.

Nearly 40% of respondents said they became childless due to economic pressure, immigration status, or not being able to find a partner...

It's not that I don't want to get married, it's that I can't afford to; it's not that I don't want to have children, it's that I can't afford to raise them.

Moreover, white people look down on Asians, and Asians look down on people of color, thus creating a vicious cycle.

At the end of the final episode, the film crew returned to Beijing.

The camera pans across the entrance of Tianchao Automobile's Shunyi factory, where workers wearing uniforms are walking out after their shift, chatting in twos and threes as they head towards the canteen and dormitory.

A young worker said something to his coworker next to him, and the two of them started laughing together.

The camera pans across the playground of a technical school in China, where a group of students who have just finished class are playing basketball, the ball hitting the concrete ground with a thud.

The camera pans across the garden of the Mingju Real Estate community, where a young mother is pushing a stroller, and the baby in the stroller is holding a ginkgo leaf in its hand.

The final image freezes on a boy wearing a vocational school uniform from China...

The boy was squatting at the entrance of the training workshop, helping his master hand him a wrench. He had a simple and earnest smile on his face, and fine beads of sweat were still on his forehead.

There was not a single commentary or evaluation from beginning to end, nor a single word defending Suning and Tianchao Group; all the voices came from the interviewees themselves.

As the end credits slowly rolled, the background music was a slow version of "Prince Lanling Enters the Battle," with the deep, resonant sound of the jie drum and the plaintive sound of the pipa.

The impact of this documentary in China was on a completely different level than that of the CCTV interview.

When the ratings data for the night the major TV stations broadcast the show came out, the people at the stations couldn't believe it...

A three-hour documentary, with no celebrities and no special effects, actually had higher viewership than a prime-time TV drama.

The video garnered over 100 million views on the video website within just a few days, and the comment section was filled with messages.

“My parents were just discussing whether to send me to Australia to do a foundation program. After watching the documentary, my dad tore up the business card of the study abroad agency and told me that I was not going and that I should just study and work well in China. This documentary by Suning saved my family from losing a house.”

"I cried about that woman in the shared apartment in London. Her mother still doesn't know she's washing vegetables and dishes, and is still telling relatives that her daughter is a white-collar worker in England. This is scarier than a horror movie because it's real."

Someone posted a screenshot from a documentary about a dishwasher who had lived in a basement for twenty years on a forum, with the title consisting of only one sentence: "Is this what they call paradise?"

Several study abroad agencies that used to be the most vocal critics of Suning have fallen silent.

When reporters cornered a study abroad agency owner at his door and pressed him for his opinion on the documentary, he stammered and waved his hand, saying, "I haven't seen it, so I can't comment."

Then he immediately jumped into the car and drove off.

In fact, those who are most restless are the pro-foreign individuals, who are fiercely attacking the documentary as "inciting populism," "creating division," and "generalizing from a single instance"...

But no matter how much they criticize them, they cannot explain the real experiences of the people in the documentary.

You can write a 10,000-word commentary in the newspaper to argue that Suning's logic is flawed, but you can't prove that the dishwasher who lived in the Flushing basement for twenty years didn't exist.

You have no way of proving that the woman in the shared apartment in East London who is afraid to answer video calls doesn't exist.

You have no way of proving that the middle-aged man who rotted away in the low-rent housing in the northern suburbs of Paris did not exist.

This film has no narration, no sentimentality, only one face after another, one line after another.

Each shot is a brick, and they are stacked one by one to form a wall.

Those pro-foreigners who crashed into this wall immediately suffered head injuries and bled profusely.

Those impulsive Chinese people were also given a cold shower and began to think about what price they really had to pay to study abroad.

...(End of this chapter)