Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

In July 1918, the summer sun was blazing.

Wu Zhu suspected that he had been abducted by human traffickers and taken to a remote mountain area!

Sunlight streamed in through the open door, accompanied by the clucking of roosters and the pungent, fermented smell of chicken droppings.

Beneath him was a hard, bony wooden bed, with a mosquito net hanging there, faded from washing and covered in patches. The mud walls were blackened by soot, and a pile of old farm tools leaned against the corner, their handles worn smooth as if chewed by a dog. The owner of the house was clearly very poor.

On the windowsill sat a traditional Chinese version of the Analects with a tattered cover. A broken pottery jar stood quietly to the side, containing several worn-out calligraphy brushes that looked like they had been through many battles.

In his bewilderment, memories that didn't belong to him surged wildly through his mind.

About half a minute later, he calmed down and examined everything in the room.

Before his transmigration, he was a sophomore in the Department of Literature at Yenching University. He was transported by the National Highway to a parallel world inhabited by a person with the same name, "Wu Zhu," and became an undergraduate student who had just graduated from the Second Provincial Normal School of Xiangnan.

The good news is that this degree is enough to make a living in the current world, and the Yenching University Daily, which is in the school's reading room, has published a prospectus for Yenching University to recruit researchers. The deadline is in half a month, and once you are admitted, your future will be limitless.

The bad news is that the original owner's family had been tenant farmers for generations. The fact that he was able to finish his studies at the Second Normal School was due to his family tightening their belts and working day and night to exhaust the miracle he created. They couldn't even afford the travel expenses to the capital.

The original owner also had a dispute with his family because of this, and died in his sleep, depressed.

From a student at Yenching University, once hailed as the pride of heaven, to a tenant farmer's son who now has to carefully budget his meals, the enormous contrast almost brought Wu Zhu to tears.

In modern society, you can laugh and joke even if you're just lying around, but right now all you see is endless land rent...

Regardless, he possesses the knowledge accumulated over two lifetimes, coupled with an exceptional familiarity with the course of history; as long as he lives, there are endless possibilities.

A hushed argument could be heard outside.

Wu Zhu put on his short-sleeved shirt, got out of bed, and walked out of the room.

Under the scorching sun, Father Wu Dayong squatted beside the stone mill in the yard, his back bent like a fully drawn bow, talking to a strong man carrying a carrying pole.

That was the original owner's older brother, Wu Song, who hadn't married yet because he was helping the original owner complete his studies.

"Master Zhang said that the remaining two acres of paddy fields... can be exchanged for ten silver dollars. The silver hairpin your mother left behind is valued at three silver dollars at the pawnshop. And the chicken and eggs we used to nourish Zhu'er can be sold for two silver dollars."

"Father... what will we eat if you sell the land? And the hairpin, that was Mother's last keepsake!"

"Zhu'er has read so many books; the fortune teller said he was a reincarnation of the God of Literature! To be trapped and die in this mountain valley, I'm so sorry for his deceased mother and for all our ancestors!"

"..."

The argument grew louder, and Wu Zhu strode over:

"Father, brother, I'm not going to take the exam."

The two, their faces flushed, turned around in astonishment.

The family was extremely poor, and Wu Zhu certainly couldn't be a leech who waited for food to be handed to him for his so-called ambitions.

In this turbulent era, there are more ways to make a living than just studying; only fools would devote themselves entirely to the ivory tower.

He solemnly said:

"The land is my lifeline, the hairpin is my mother's soul, I don't want either of them. When will this studying ever end? I'm not taking it anymore."

"Shut up! You've studied hard for over a decade, ruining your eyes with the oil lamp, all for this day! Your father wanted you to become an outstanding person, but I've already sold everything I own to support you through teacher's college, and I can no longer afford to send you to the capital... I'm so sorry..."

Wu Dayong jumped up in a panic, his voice choked with emotion as he spoke, and he raised his hand to rub his reddened eyes.

Wu Zhu remained silent.

He had just transmigrated to this world and had no familial ties with the middle-aged man in front of him, but the original owner's memories were truly moving.

In a tenant farmer family of this era, there was a father who, although he made a living by farming, valued education, insisted on passing down the family tradition of farming and reading, and scrimped and saved to support his son's education. You could hardly find one like him, as you can tell from his name.

The older brother was five years older than the original owner. Knowing that he had no talent for studying, he was willing to sacrifice for his younger brother. He learned a few words and then dropped out of the private school, refusing to go back no matter what.

Therefore, the original owner's studies were inseparable from the support of these two people. This family was a bit poor in terms of economics, but very rich in "affection" in terms of "friendship" that was hard to find even in his previous life.

Wu Dayong wiped his face, said no more, and turned to walk towards the stove.

The women in the family died young, so how could the father-son relationship on this land be so easily described?

Wu Song, who had been silent, leaned his carrying pole against the wall and casually looked up:

"Young man... how far is the capital? Will it cost a lot of money?"

His concept of education was limited to the fact that his younger brother would have to spend money and go to other places, and that he would have to work hard for a very long time.

Wu Zhu exhaled a breath of stale air:

"It's almost four thousand miles. Even with the most advanced train available now, and considering other travel options, it will take nearly half a month. It will definitely cost a lot of money."

Transportation was inconvenient in that era. The journey of four thousand miles spanned north and south, and with the turbulent times, even if one eventually became a researcher at Yenching University, it was very likely that they would never see each other again in their lifetime.

"I once heard my private tutor say that a train is like a big iron dragon, making a 'whoosh' sound when it runs."

A curious glint flashed in Wu Song's eyes, like that of a child.

Kuretake nodded emphatically:

"When I make a lot of money, I'll take you and your father on a train trip to the capital to see the emperor's home and the Great Wall beyond the Great Wall."

Wu Song smiled, revealing a set of yellow teeth:

"That's great!"

......

It was lunchtime soon.

The so-called "meal" was actually a small bowl of boiled beans in salt water, a dish of dark, unidentifiable pickles, and a vegetable soup so clear you could see your reflection in it.

There are laying hens at home, but we can't bear to eat the eggs they lay. We have to exchange them for precious salt or to supplement Wu Zhu's brain. We can barely afford to eat meat once a year.

This is already the best that the current tenant farmers can offer.

Despite their poverty, the rule of "not speaking while eating" still applied at the dinner table. The father and his two sons ate in silence, but the pickled vegetables and beans were still quietly pushed in front of Wu Zhu.

Wu Dayong and Wu Song only drank the soup, and the pot of wild vegetable soup was quickly emptied. Neither of them put their chopsticks toward Wu Zhu, even though they couldn't stop swallowing.

"Take your time eating, I still have to go to work."

"Little brother, leave the bowl here, I'll wash it when I get back. Don't go into the kitchen."

Wu Dayong wiped his mouth and got up, with Wu Song following behind. Before leaving, Wu Song gave Wu Song a series of instructions.

Under the universal value of "all other professions are inferior, only studying is superior", manual labor such as kitchen chores is naturally regarded as "lowly work" and something that "orthodox" scholars cannot touch.

Wu Zhu didn't reply. She picked up the bowl of beans and the dish of pickled vegetables, and without a word, scooped half of each into her father's and brother's bowls. Wu Dayong tried to stop her, but Wu Zhu held her hand down.

"I'm young and healthy, it'll be fine if I eat less, but you all still have to work hard in the fields."

Then he picked up the porcelain bowl and chopsticks and walked toward the water bucket on his own, not giving his father and brothers a chance to back out.

The two people left in the main room were speechless, staring blankly at the countable beans in the bowl, and then looked at each other.

In those cloudy, numb eyes, a resolute determination flashed!