Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

September 28th.

It was a pleasant Saturday for middle school students, but a dark day for the citizens of Yanjing.

Because the final chapter of "Camel Xiangzi" was published today, although the Beijing Daily gave two endings, one official and one pirated, no one expected that Xiangzi's final fate would be so tragic in the writing of "Yanjing Ke".

As a result, the rickshaw pullers on the street sat on the roadside as if they had lost their souls. A few of them couldn't stop wiping away tears and wouldn't even pay attention to customers who wanted to take their rickshaws, which inadvertently caused an industry strike.

It's terrible, absolutely terrible.

Even if there were another ending for them to choose from, they knew that it was an ending written down to avoid making them feel bad; as real-life Xiangzis, they preferred the original ending in terms of authenticity.

In the past, no matter what, there was always hope.

What do you hope for?

He dreamed of one day no longer having to work as a laborer, saving enough money to buy his own rickshaw, and then making a grand entrance in Beijing, supporting himself for the rest of his life, perhaps even becoming wealthy through hard work...

With a car, you have everything.

This is the opinion of the vast majority of rickshaw pullers.

But now, "Camel Xiangzi" ruthlessly shatters this illusion, making them realize that even if Xiangzi had a rickshaw, it could be taken away by the powerful, plundered by the bureaucrats, or sold due to family changes. The means of production are so fragile in their hands, or rather, they simply have no ability to protect their property!

In the book, Xiangzi becomes a "beast" after his hopes are shattered. What will become of Xiangzi in reality? Is there no way to prevent this ending?

If no one had mentioned it before, no one would have thought much of it and would have just let it go in a daze.

But nobody wants to be a pig to be slaughtered. Since someone has openly raised the question, the rickshaw pullers are eager to know the answer, but the key is that no one can answer it right now.

The ending of Xiangzi's story is more like a test of society as a whole—

What should laborers do if they don't want to be reduced to beasts?

"well......"

Li Shouchang, with a stack of "Beijing Dialect Daily" tucked under his arm, walked towards the editorial office of "New Youth." Looking around at the dejected rickshaw pullers, he couldn't help but sigh.

In his spare time, he often visited impoverished people in rural and urban areas, and frequently went to Changxindian to eat and live with the workers. He was well aware of the plight of the rickshaw pullers, so how could he not know why they were in such a state?

He wanted to help do something, but he couldn't do anything on his own.

"What should we do?... "

He held up the book in his hand, brought it close to his eyes to see the cover clearly, and his gaze behind the mirror suddenly hardened:

"What should we do!"

Without revolutionary theory, there is no...

Give me a revolutionary organization, and I can...

This was a spark of hope that arrived at the end of last year from that northern country, where winter lingers. The more he read, the more convinced he became that the future of China lay within these little booklets!

The exploiting class does not belong to humanity—that is the truth he realized.

Before that, he needs to see more, read more, think more, and speak more.

He strode forward, the dust kicked up by his shoes dancing in the morning light.

Along the compacted loess streets stood low, dilapidated houses, haggard-looking cart drivers, and raggedly dressed poor people—a world where people were devoured without a trace...

But his steps became more firm, the road beneath his feet more solid, and his ideals clearer, as if he had returned to his student days.

Perhaps from this moment on, he will be forever young.

......

Li Shouchang arrived at Jiangan Hutong and pushed open the courtyard gate of the editorial office of "New Youth".

There were already people waiting in the courtyard. The gentle and refined Hu Shi sat at a small stone table, talking quietly with Chen Zhongfu.

"Shouchang's finally here! My wife took the kids out to play, I'll go make you some tea!"

Upon seeing Li Shouchang appear, Chen Zhongfu immediately got up and walked into the house.

"We agreed to talk about the next issue of 'New Youth,' but you're late."

"I was supposed to come by car, but after watching the movie 'Rickshaw Boy' recently, I decided to walk instead."

Li Shouchang shook his long robe and sat down, placing the "Beijing Daily" on the table. It was covered with dense horizontal lines, and he read it repeatedly to appreciate it.

Hu Shi's eyes lit up:

"Brother Shouchang, you've also read this 'Biography of Xiangzi'?"

"Who hasn't glanced at Yanjing these days? The author uses the story of a rickshaw puller named Xiangzi to actually depict how the world today drives people into beasts. The message is truly thought-provoking!"

"Brother Shouchang is still the same as always. Don't be so quick to condemn heaven and earth. In my opinion, this 'guest from Yanjing' is truly worthy of praise for his achievements in modern literature."

Hu Shih leaned back lazily in his chair, explaining his views.

As a pioneer of the new literature, his essay "A Preliminary Proposal for Literary Reform" put forward eight major propositions, and the extensive use of colloquial language in "Rickshaw Boy" is very much in line with his proposition of "not avoiding colloquial words and phrases".

Not to mention that this biography of Xiangzi also abandons the clichés such as "cold window" and "jade tower" that old literati loved to use, and replaces them with precise and specific descriptions, which is to "avoid clichés and stereotypes".

Vivid, authentic, concrete... this is what new literature should be like.

Although "Rickshaw Boy" belongs to the category of urban fiction that he has always looked down upon, the author's writing skills far surpass those of most writers of the Mandarin Duck and Butterfly School. As for its social criticism... it's a bit over the top.

Take the background setting, for example. Zhang Xun led his army into the city to restore the monarchy. Professor Chen, who lives in Jian Gan Hutong, is clearly a metaphor for the current era, which is completely unnecessary for the novel.

He, a believer in reform, shook his head with a hint of regret:

"However, in my opinion, this biography of Xiangzi is somewhat of a whining song, singing the lament of a fallen nation. It completely denies individual struggle and falls into a pessimistic trend of 'destruction without construction.' Compared with Ibsenism, it is still a bit lacking and cannot play a role in ideological enlightenment."

"I disagree!"

How do you know?

Hu Shih sat up a little straighter, adopting a posture of patient listening.

"The entire 'Biography of Xiangzi' contains not a single direct commentary on current affairs, yet every line is a bloody accusation! Warlord infighting, soldiers behaving like bandits, and the people suffering—isn't this the most incisive political revelation?"

"This Mr. Yanjingke is far superior to those authors who just shout slogans with their necks stiffened."

"At least from his biography of Xiangzi, I understand that new literature not only needs to revolutionize old literature, but also the lives of characters like Master Liu and Detective Zhang!"

Li Shouchang gets easily agitated when debating, but he makes no attempt to hide his opinions.

No one knows what lessons he learned amidst the clarion call of the Russian Revolution.

"Brother Shouchang, the New Youth magazine advocates new literature in the hope of raising the banner of ideological enlightenment, and is by no means a club of some kind of radicalism. If you view new literature in this way and regard it as a mouthpiece for political struggle, it will probably lead to new literature becoming a hybrid, devoid of truth and beauty, and without any humanity."

"Brother Shih-chih, could Xiangzi live independently with his rickshaw? Could millions of workers and peasants live independently of their exploited circumstances and express humanity? If literature turns a blind eye to these bleak lives and only hides in its ivory tower to sculpt truth and beauty, then that is the most hypocritical form of dependence!"

Hu Shi's expression gradually darkened as he pondered how to respond.

Li Shouchang did not give Hu Shi a chance to reply, and got up to pace back and forth in the courtyard:

"Brother Shizhi is right on only one point: this story of Xiangzi doesn't point out a way out. Precisely because of this, our *New Youth* magazine should take on this responsibility and write a social commentary entitled 'A Critique of *Camel Xiangzi*,' clearly explaining the serious implications to the people. I've already thought of the opening..."

"You may not care about society, and you may not care about Xiangzi, but when society turns you into Xiangzi in the future, don't regret it."

Snapped!

Hu Shi slammed his fist on the table and stood up angrily:

"I disagree with your decision! *New Youth* is a literary magazine! It's a forum for intellectual exchange and scholarship, not your personal political salon! I strongly oppose you publishing such a blatant political declaration in *New Youth*!"

"Shizhi, go outside and look at the rickshaw pullers on the roadside, look at their current state! Isn't this reality stark enough? Your politically evasive rhetoric is so pale and powerless in the face of these Xiangzis!"

Li Shouchang refused to budge an inch!

"We should proceed step by step, and we shouldn't admire the extremism of Tsarist Russia. You're mixing academic and political matters, which is destined to lead you down the most dangerous wrong path—a matter that could cost you your head! Brother Shouchang, how can you not worry me...?"

"But you don't have to be like that ostrich on the grasslands, burying your head in the sand whenever something happens!"

The two argued until their faces turned red, their voices grew louder and louder, and spittle flew onto each other's faces.

The ideological differences that began when "New Youth" was founded have intensified over time, and now they have erupted in the small editorial department.

One began to embrace Bolshevism, while the other revered Ibsen and Dewey; the vast differences between revolution and reform were vividly displayed between the two.

"Quiet! Quiet!"

Chen Zhongfu, who was making tea inside, rushed out and stood between the two.

"I told you I couldn't let you two meet. Every time you meet, you start arguing. The moment you turn your head, you start arguing again."

The two shut their mouths and neither looked at the other.

As the editor-in-chief, Chen Zhongfu naturally had to handle internal relationships. He pulled the two of them back to their seats and brought out tea, pouring a full cup for each of them.

"Drink, drink slowly, don't burn yourself."

"You two are the ones who give me the most trouble. Why did you have to get so worked up over a movie called 'Xiangzi's Story'?"

"What is the motto of *New Youth*? Inclusivity and freedom of thought, not infighting!"

He patiently persuaded him.

Li Shouchang took a deep breath and picked up the teacup:

"Brother Zhongfu, I apologize for my harsh words. I just feel that with novels like 'The Story of Xiangzi' appearing now, it would be a dereliction of duty for *New Youth* to not respond. The plight of rickshaw pullers in Yanjing has been brought to light; how can we stand idly by?"

Chen Zhongfu glanced at the newspaper on the table and pondered:

"I understand you want to write commentary; this novel does need more fuel to burn brighter. But Shizhi's concerns are not unreasonable; we can't change our tone arbitrarily."

Hu Shih's expression softened slightly:

"The New Youth magazine advocates for a new literature, and its foundation lies in the word 'literature' itself; it must be grounded in literature. If the entire magazine is filled with political incitement, how is it any different from a street-side political tabloid?"

After he finished speaking, the courtyard fell silent.

Even the white pigeons in the cage in the corner seemed to sense the heavy atmosphere and chose to shut up and stop cooing.

After a while, Li Shouchang finished his tea, then suddenly snatched the newspaper from the table and crumpled it into a ball.

Chen Zhongfu and Hu Shi were stunned.

"Shouchang, what do you mean by this?"

"I will no longer publish this commentary in New Youth. I understand that you want to unite all parties to prevent the banner of new literature from splitting, but I must make this voice heard, so I propose that I start a supplement."

What are your thoughts?

"This supplement can delve into reality, explore labor issues, and listen to the people's suffering. It can also publish more critical literary works and deeper interpretations. What do you two think?"

Li Shouchang's gaze swept over Chen Zhongfu, then over Hu Shi.

Hu Shi opened his mouth, but remained silent.

They've already given up on publishing it in *New Youth*, and now the argument has escalated to the point where it seems like he's the one depriving people of their freedom of speech...

Chen Zhongfu nodded repeatedly:

"A win-win situation: the main publication prioritizes inclusiveness, while the supplements focus on depth. Excellent, I support you!"

"Then it's settled. I'll start making preparations when I get back. With the experience of 'Yanzhi,' 'Chenzhongbao,' and 'Jiayin,' I believe I can do it well."

"Thank you for your hard work, Shouchang. If you have any problems, please come to me immediately."

Li Shouchang nodded slightly, got up and left the editorial department.

The courtyard fell silent again.

After a long silence, Chen Zhongfu broke the silence:

"And you, Shizhi? Aren't you doing anything?"

"Shouchang has his own ambitions, and I have no right to interfere. But as Shouchang said, our main journal, *New Youth*, cannot lag behind outsiders. The trend of new literature must be led by *New Youth*. I will go to the school now to urge Wu Zhu to hurry up and start writing his next novel."

Hu Shi straightened his clothes, got up and walked outside.

Chen Zhongfu watched the last guest leave, looked at the wad of newspapers on the table, and chuckled helplessly.

"First, let's welcome a gentleman of bamboo, then a guest from Yanjing..."

"What a remarkable era of talent, a truly awakening age!"