Mr. Lu Xun was the best essayist since the vernacular language movement. He had a critical eye for everything and loved to stab people with his sharp pen, so in the photos that have been passed down to today, he always looks very serious. Occasionally there are one or two where he is laughing heartily, but they always convey a deep sense of melancholy.
All of China's essayists take Mr. Lu Xun as their idol. Therefore, when they write, they all express great concern for the state and its people.
Eastern intellectuals seem to have this kind of "melancholy complex." A young person once asked a great director from the Soviet era, whose name I've forgotten, who might have made some famous films, "How can we become great directors?" The old man said, "You just need to experience a stint in prison."
I am not an essayist, and I don't want to wait for a stint in prison either, but I was born only knowing how to make a living by writing. So, I usually write some "phony serious" financial articles and books. Occasionally, when I get itchy fingers, I create a character called "Mr. Wu," then let him wander around, hit walls, and cause trouble. With more stories about this character, it forms a virtual small society. He gets a wife, a daughter, neighbors, a cousin, and colleagues. He keeps up with the times every day, lives life to the fullest, and never stops being mischievous. After many years of rolling and crawling, his deeds have become quite impressive. Thus, this book came into being.
Here I need to clarify that "Mr. Wu" has little to do with "Wu Xiaobo." The fact that they share the same surname is purely coincidental. However, at the end of the day, they are both ordinary people who like to think they're clever. This trait is shared by many people in China.