My era, 1979!

Did you write Chapter 61 yourself? (Thanks for the reward, please vote with monthly tickets)

Xu Chengjun knew he had a chance to interview at Fudan University because of Zhu Dongrun.

Old Master Zhu Dongrun, there's a 90% chance he'll come.

But, I never expected this...
Jia Zhifang actually came too!
This is...
A celebrity who went to prison four times in his life!
If contemporary Chinese academic research is divided into seven generations, this gentleman would roughly be considered a key figure of the second generation.

His main achievements include pioneering the discipline of comparative literature in China, proposing the assertion that "modern Chinese literature is a tributary of world literature," cultivating scholars such as Chen Sihe, and promoting the formation of the concept of "20th-century Chinese literature."

"The Collected Works of Jia Zhifang" is an indispensable work in the study of comparative literature in China.

What is truly touching is that during the man's four imprisonments, his wife, Ms. Ren Min, remained devoted to him for thirty years, going to great lengths to find Jia Zhifang.

They didn't have a marriage certificate, but they fulfilled their marriage promise with their actions, and after overcoming various difficulties, they finally grew old together.

As for criticism, those who lived through that era...
How do we discuss human nature?
Let future generations judge this elegiac couplet.

Just as Jia Zhifang himself said: "It was a ghost, not a human, but now it is a human."

In conclusion, despite the many hardships he experienced throughout his life, he always held fast to his beliefs and ultimately achieved great things.

A few minutes later, the first professor to appear was Professor Zhu.

When Zhu Dongrun pushed open the door to the conference room on the third floor of the Chinese Department of Fudan University, the morning light was slanting in through the carved wooden window, casting a soft glow on the ends of his silver hair.

He walked with light, deliberate steps, the soles of his leather shoes making a subtle sound as they rubbed against the wooden floor, yet he exuded a quiet authority.

When he sat down, he placed his cloth bag beside the chair.

He took out a thread-bound copy of "The Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons" from his bag. On the cover was a small inscription in his own handwriting: "Literature is the instrument for conveying the Way."

The ink has smudged somewhat, yet it conveys a sense of solemnity accumulated over the years.

He was wearing a faded dark blue Zhongshan suit, with neatly fastened top buttons at the collar, and the cuffs were frayed but still crisp.

Sun, the academic affairs officer, secretly told Xu Chengjun that it was an old garment that had been worn for more than ten years.

It is evident that it is simple.

He was thin, but his back was ramrod straight.

Like bamboo and rocks, they retain their integrity despite weathering storms.

A pair of tortoiseshell-framed reading glasses rested on his nose. Behind the lenses, his gaze was gentle yet sharp. As he swept over the manuscript of "The Barn" spread out on the table, a knowing smile appeared on his lips.

When I saw the manuscript of the paper "The Modern Transformation of Traditional Chinese Literary Theory" and the four characters "Literature as a Vehicle for the Way" in the title, I slowed down.

Upon seeing Xu Chengjun stand up and greet him, he smiled first, his voice gentle with a Jiangnan accent: "Comrade Xu, don't be nervous. It's better to arrive at the right time than to arrive early. Do you mind if I take a look at your manuscripts first?"

Xu Chengjun quickly said he didn't mind.

Old Master Zhu didn't care about formalities at all. He waved his hand and simply said, "Please sit down, don't stand on ceremony."

As he spoke, he first picked up a few manuscripts of poems and read them carefully. After flipping through them, his gaze returned to the thesis.

a long time.

Zhu Dongrun's gaze turned serious, and his look at Xu Chengjun was no longer gentle, but rather scrutinizing.

"Did you write this paper yourself?"

Xu Chengjun answered honestly, "Professor Zhu, it was written by the student himself, and there's a manuscript next to it." After looking at it for a while, Zhu Dongrun finally shook his head and smiled.

This paper is a rare find; who wouldn't want to publish such excellent content?

Who would give something like this to a rural educated youth or a greenhorn!
This kid.
It seems that Pei Heng underestimated him, and he himself did as well.

He saw the sentence "Traditional literary theory is not a historical legacy, but a living methodology of creation" on the manuscript, but he didn't even notice that his reading glasses had slipped down to the tip of his nose.

Looking up at Xu Chengjun, he said, "In your book 'The Granary,' you wrote about Xu Laoshuan melting keys to cast plowshares, saying, 'When the molten copper flowed over the engravings, it was as if all the old debts had been watered into new seedlings.' The meaning of 'adaptation' in this sentence coincides with the 'classical transformation' you discussed in your thesis."

Just as Xu Chengjun was about to respond, he waved his hand to signal him to continue, his gaze falling on the manuscript.

“Zhang Peiheng said that you ‘cannot judge the depth of a work without seeing the original,’ but I think that every word of ‘The Granary’ is in tune with the pulse of the land and has the qualities that literature should have.”

"I arrived early, so I'll test you first. Don't be nervous, it's not an interview, just treat it like a chat."

Can I treat this as just chatting?

Would you believe it if your boss messaged you for a chat?

Upon hearing this, Xu Chengjun quickly composed himself, only to hear Old Zhu speak with a lingering meaning:
"Comrade Xu, in your paper you say that 'traditional literary theory is a living methodology of creation,' and Liu Yanhe said in 'The Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons: The Way of Change' that 'if it is thorough, it will never lack; if it changes, it will endure.' This 'thoroughness' and 'change' originally discussed the principle of the evolution of literature. But nowadays, many people either treat the classics as old papers or sever their roots to learn Western methods. You have brought the rural life to life in 'The Granary' and talked about 'transformation' in your paper, so I have to ask you: how should contemporary literary creation 'thoroughly understand' the roots of classical literary theory, and how should it 'transform' to create new vitality for the times?"

Old Zhu asked a very good question.

First, its brilliance lies in responding to the focus of Xu Chengjun's paper, directly addressing the dilemmas of our time, and possessing a sharp critical edge.

In 1979, the literary world had just broken free from the "instrumental theory" and urgently needed to rebuild the "literary ontology." Zhu Dongrun's question essentially said: "Theory cannot be suspended in the air; it must be able to explain creation. Creation cannot be without roots; it must be able to resonate with tradition."

This 83-year-old man truly possesses a clear mind and a vision for the times.

At the same time, this question can directly reveal Xu Chengjun's true intentions.

Do you think I can't tell if you wrote it yourself?
Secondly, the brilliance lies in the fact that Xu Chengjun's assessment focuses on "vision" rather than "knowledge," subtly hinting at expectations.

Where is the period?

Where else could it be?
Xu Chengjun also saw Zhu Lao's good intentions, and after thinking for half a minute, he answered loudly:
"Professor Zhu, I dare to say that this 'understanding' is not about clinging to the words of the ancients, but about grasping the fundamental principle of 'establishing one's heart through writing' in classical literary theory. Liu Xie said 'literature carries the Way,' and this 'Way' is never a dead truth."

"In the Book of Songs, it is the people's livelihood of 'July's fiery heat'; in Du Fu's poems, it is the worry of 'the rich feasting and drinking behind the red gates.' Today, it should be the breath of the land beneath our feet and the new voice of people's lives. Just like Xu Laoshuan in 'The Granary' who melted down keys to forge plowshares, he had not studied the 'Kaogongji' (Record of Trades), but he understood the principle of 'tools are for use.' This is because he 'understood' the root of the ancients' 'making tools for practical use,' and he understood the sincerity towards life."

At this point, Professor Zhu nodded slightly, a hint of satisfaction in his cloudy eyes.

"And this 'change' is not about abandoning the essence to learn something new. Liu Yanhe said, 'Change leads to longevity.' What changes is the form, but what remains unchanged is the spirit. When the ancients wrote 'picking chrysanthemums by the eastern fence,' it was about reclusion. But today, isn't writing 'plastic sheeting on the ridge of the field reflecting the sunset' poetic?"

“When I wrote the line ‘molten copper overflows the engraving’ in ‘The Barn,’ my students thought that the engraving on the old key represents the days of the older generation, and the sharpness of the new plowshare represents the hope of reform. Just like the ‘metaphor’ and ‘transformation’ in traditional literary theory, it no longer needs to be wrapped in the old shell of ‘fragrant herbs and beautiful women’, but can come alive in the story of ‘melting the old and casting the new’.”

"Therefore, students believe that classical literary theory is never an exhibit in a museum, but rather a plow in the hands of a writer."

"Just like Xu Laoshuan's plow, it is necessary to turn over new soil in the current land and plant crops that belong to this era. This is probably what it means to 'understand' its soul and 'transform' its form, so that the wisdom of our ancestors can grow with the days."

These few words actually encapsulate the prototype of "root-seeking literature" that would later emerge.

In Zhu Dongrun's opinion, Xu Chengjun's answer was brilliant.

What's so clever about it?

　I wrote over 10,000 words for the interview section in one go, and it's quite painful to break it down now—all because of the new book release period! I'm shamelessly asking for monthly votes and to keep reading; it's very important during this new release period! Thank you everyone!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)