My era, 1979!

Chapter 31 Going to school is a little difficult

As Xu Chengjun made his final stroke, dawn was just breaking.

The ending of "The Fitting Mirror" on the scrap paper was still steaming.

"As she walked out the door, Director Wang was still cursing behind her, but she could no longer hear him. The broken glass under her feet crunched underfoot, like an off-key song. Chunlan looked up at the moon and felt that the moonlight was exceptionally bright tonight, bright enough to illuminate every flower on her skirt."

"Those flowers seem to have really bloomed slowly at night."

He chuckled at the words for a long time, like a player who had just finished a game and was holding the ultimate equipment.

It gave me a bit of the thrill of playing games all night long, just like in my past life.

This is already the second day since I started writing.

Over the past two days, I've been writing and polishing.

I finished writing the 8000-word essay "The Fitting Mirror" while still feeling angry.

"Staying up all night again?" Qian Ming rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed, his hair a mess. "You're going through paper at a rate that's almost as fast as the production team printing work points."

"If you have an inspiration, you should use it!"
-
The public phone in the guesthouse suddenly rang. Aunt Wang, who managed the storeroom, called out in the corridor, "Xu, the educated youth in room 302, is on the phone with Director Wang from the Provincial Department of Education!"

Xu Chengjun was working on the draft of "The Fitting Mirror" when he heard this. He put down his pencil and stood up with steady steps.

With a speck of pencil dust on his fingertips, he walked to the phone, picked up the receiver, and said in a calm tone, "Hello, Director Wang, this is Xu Chengjun."

"We have news from Fudan University."
-
Division of Higher Education.

"Come in."

Deputy Director Wang's voice came through the door. When Xu Chengjun pushed the door open, he saw him frowning at a stack of official documents.

The enamel mug on the table was steaming.

"Sit down." Deputy Director Wang pointed to the wooden chair opposite him. "We have news from Fudan University, but things have stalled."

Xu Chengjun's heart sank.

Hey!
A classic turning point in working within the system: first a sweet treat, then a bucket of cold water.

It's unlikely to end well!

"The recommendation quota from 78 should have expired last month according to regulations."

Deputy Director Wang opened the top document, the cover of which read "Supplementary Regulations for Admissions of Fudan University in 1979." "Their admissions office called to ask, 'Why are you making an exception for a young educated youth from Fengyang?'"

He pulled a photocopy from the drawer and pushed it over: "Take a look yourself, it's a reply from the Chinese Department of Fudan University."

Xu Chengjun picked up the paper; the ink was fresh, and the penmanship was strong: "...Upon investigation, this student (Xu Chengjun) has no record of provincial or higher-level awards, is not a key training target of the unit, and does not meet the special clause of 'expired quota extension' (Education Document No. [1979] 17)."

"If exceptional training is required, the following materials must be provided: 1. Minutes of the special meeting held by the Provincial Department of Education; 2. Letters of recommendation from two individuals with associate professor or higher titles; 3. Supporting materials demonstrating the 'value of special training'; 4. Approval from the school committee..."

Xu Chengjun was flipping through the pages when Deputy Director Wang glanced at him and continued speaking.

"You don't need to worry about the meeting minutes, I've got you covered."

"The Provincial Department of Education held a meeting yesterday specifically to discuss your matter."

He opened the document, and Xu Chengjun saw that under the title "Meeting Minutes (79) No. 42", the opinions of the participants were written down in dense detail:
"...This student's work, 'The Granary,' has been featured as a front-page story in Anhui Literature, reflecting the realities of rural reform and possessing contemporary value..."

"...His father, Xu Zhiguo, was a rehabilitated teacher, which aligns with the spirit of 'implementing the policy on intellectuals'..."

"...It is recommended that he be recommended for admission under the name of 'special literary talent'."

The last page was stamped with a bright red official seal, and next to it was a line of small print: "Agreed to recommend for admission to Fudan University, please consider accordingly."

"For recommendation letters, I suggest you go to Editor-in-Chief Zhou. Zhou Ming, editor-in-chief of Anhui Literature, Su Zhong, and Liu Zuci, group leader, all meet the requirements. I think it won't be difficult for you." "For special materials, the proofs of Granary should already be ready. I've also heard a lot about your recent work, 'Weighing the Stars.' These works are qualified in my eyes."

“However, the Fudan University Council just finished its meeting.” Deputy Director Wang opened another document. “Of the seven committee members, four voted against it.”

Xu Chengjun took a closer look and saw pencil annotations along the edges of the document, each character with sharp angles:

"The educated youth have limited academic qualifications and may find it difficult to adapt to Fudan University's courses."

"Special quotas should be reserved for top talents cultivated within the system."

"While 'The Granary' has its merits, it is ultimately a work written by a grassroots worker and is insufficient to prove the author's talent."

The most eye-catching detail is a line of small print in the margin: "Professor Zhang Peiheng suggests that the student's actual academic ability needs to be verified."

"Professor Zhang?" Xu Chengjun smiled wryly.

I never expected to hear this gentleman's name here.

In his previous life, Xu Chengjun's undergraduate major was modern and contemporary literature, while his postgraduate major was ancient Chinese literature. It's safe to say that he has read countless works by this gentleman!
Zhang Peiheng can be called a "ferryman" of 20th-century Chinese literary history, with rigorous scholarship and a prolific body of work!
This gentleman is best known for his innovative spirit despite his research in ancient studies!
He is passionate in class and often compares himself to Li Bai, who famously said, "The emperor calls, but I won't board the boat."

What's even more interesting is that this gentleman was a strong supporter of martial arts novels in the 1980s, claiming that Jin Yong's achievements surpassed those of "Li Zicheng".

In his later years, he focused on online literature and predicted that "literature will eventually return to individual expression," which became a great anecdote in the literary world.

Last year, it was this same gentleman who supported Lu Xinhua, a student in the Chinese Department of Fudan University in 77, in creating "The Wound," saying that "the truth in literature is more important than perfection!"
If it were him, perhaps there would still be a chance.

Deputy Director Wang took a sip of tea, and tea stains piled up again on the rim of the jar: "He didn't object directly, he just said, 'Without seeing the original, it's hard to judge its depth.'"

Xu Chengjun slightly raised his eyes.

"But things took a turn for the better," Deputy Director Wang said, changing the subject.

"Professor Zhu Dongrun sent a letter to the university administration committee."

"He said, 'If Fudan University selects students based on diplomas, how can it be called a century-old institution? I intend to ask the university council to reconsider and give this student an interview opportunity.' I heard that he also attached a book review of 'The Barn,' with annotations on each page."

"The school committee argued for a long time."

Deputy Director Wang arranged the documents in order. "Professor Zhang Peiheng finally relented and said, 'If "The Granary" is indeed his own work, I can make an exception and give him an interview.'"

"This is an interview letter written by Mr. Zhu himself."

Deputy Director Wang handed over a manila envelope with the words "Fudan University" written on it. "Bring the original manuscript to the Chinese Department conference room before August 1st."

"also,"

He paused, his words unusually gentle.

"Although there is still some time, I think it's better to go sooner rather than later. If things don't go as planned, we can still find ways to make amends. For example, Director Zhao of the Chinese Department at Anhui University would really like you to go!"

"Let's go." Deputy Director Wang stood up, then, as if remembering something, stood up, shook hands with Xu Chengjun, and patted him on the shoulder.

"To be honest, don't let down all the expectations that so many of your seniors have placed on you."

Xu Chengjun stared speechlessly at this bureaucratic senior from 79, and said with rare sincerity:
"Thank you so much, you've gone to so much trouble!"

"I'll come back to Shanghai and thank you in person!"

This is from the heart.

Regardless of how bureaucratic Deputy Director Wang speaks.

But these neatly stacked documents and completed tasks are real and tangible.

(End of this chapter)