Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

The sun was so hot it made people dizzy. Wu Zhu carried four portions of "boxed vegetables" and slowly made his way back to Sanyanjing Hutong.

He was quite speechless. He didn't know what had gotten into Hu Shi, who had gone to the school on Saturday to drag him out of the reading room and urge him to come back and write a new novel.

When asked if the urgency was due to something important, Hu Shih replied as follows:

"Didn't you see the copy of 'Rickshaw Boy' in the Beijing Daily?"

"As a rising star in our 'New Youth' magazine, how did you manage to sit still in the reading room and play house with the old man while reading this novel?"

"At your age, where do you get the audacity to let others lord it over you?"

Three consecutive sentences of pressure drove Wu Zhugan into a state of withdrawal.

Gan!

I'll roll myself up!

However, judging from Hu Shi's unwell complexion, he must have suffered some grievances at home. It's highly likely that his wife overheard his romantic affair and threatened him with a kitchen knife to demonstrate her power...

Tsk tsk tsk! The path of a romantic literary giant is never easy.

However, this person was also strange. As an advocate of the new literature, he vigorously criticized the old literature and the traditional ethics, but he himself did not resist arranged marriage, which can be described as hypocritical.

Wu Zhu kept thinking like this until he finally arrived at number 59, only to meet someone he never expected.

"Brother Zizhen, what are you doing squatting by the door?"

"Nothing much... I brought you something."

Yang Zizhen propped herself up; she must have squatted for too long, causing her legs to go numb, and she even staggered a bit when she stood up.

Under Wu Zhu's amused gaze, he pulled out a letter with a frustrated expression and handed it over.

"Take it."

"How did you know I live here, and that I'm one of your classmates?"

"It's the same one as last time... The address is written on it."

"Is she good-looking?"

"nice."

Yang Zizhen felt like she had become Ma Yu and Wu Zhu's little toy, and rolled her eyes hard.

Is he some kind of despicable person?

Wu Zhu accepted the letter and waved the lunchbox in her hand:

"I've seen you've been squatting here for so long, why don't you come in and sit down? It's just my roommate inside, no one else."

"No."

Yang Zizhen turned and left, her back view showing a hint of loneliness.

If you take the money and do the job, you have to do it properly.

If you do a good job, you'll get some pocket money, and maybe you can even earn it from both...

He hadn't taken two steps when he suddenly seemed to remember something, so he turned back and took out a folded newspaper from his pocket.

"Have you read the recent 'Beijing Daily'? Now Yenching is full of literary giants, but blindly imitating Mr. Lu Xun won't take you far."

"I advise you to develop your own style as soon as possible, lest you be buried in the crowd and live a mediocre life, which would truly be a waste of talent like Zhong Yong."

"By then, I will have entered the literary world, and without you as my rival, how lonely my life will be..."

There was a hint of smugness in his tone, as if someone had finally stood up for him, and he even started shaking his head as he spoke.

After saying that, as if afraid that Wu Zhu would call people out to beat him up, he ran away in a flash, and you could still faintly hear his strange "hehehe" laughter.

Wu Zhu watched his departing figure, feeling both helpless and amused. She thought to herself that the child must have been feeling incredibly stifled lately.

I guess the reason he went to my doorstep to ambush me this time was to say this.

He shook his head, his smile fading, sighed, and turned to push open the door.

"I hope you can maintain this optimism many years from now..."

......

Behind the door.

"The rain falls on the rich and the poor, on the righteous and the unrighteous. But the rain is not fair, because it falls on an unjust world."

"Money can lead people into a vile society, abandoning lofty ideals and willingly walking into hell."

"For the poor, love and hate are decisions based on money; 'romantic geniuses' are only born into wealthy families."

As soon as Wu Zhu stepped into the courtyard, he heard a passionate recitation coming from the back room, but he paid it no mind.

He leaned closer and saw Guo Xinggang holding a notebook, shouting loudly, almost standing on the table.

These are all memorable lines from "Rickshaw Boy," and I never expected someone would actually take notes of them...

Wang Kunlun and Chen Gongbo lay on the bed, not even taking off their shoes, with their feet sticking out of the bed, like salted fish lying dead.

The atmosphere was a bit off because neither of them had philosophy class today...

"Ahem!"

Wu Zhu coughed softly, his body tense.

Guo Xingang moved the notebook in front of him aside, saw it was him, and roared:

"Kuretake is back!"

"What are you waiting for! Let's get him!"

Wang Kunlun and Chen Gongbo, who were originally a bit listless, immediately jumped off the bed and pounced in mid-air like two wild dogs when they heard the news of Wu Zhu's return.

"I came back to deliver food! What do you want?!"

Wu Zhu took off running, but the yard was only so big, and he was caught after only a few steps.

Fearing the food would spill, Guo Xingang hurriedly stepped forward, snatched the lunch that Wu Zhu had brought back, placed it on the table, and returned to the battlefield.

Wu Zhu was given an early taste of the old professor's criticism session, and was pushed back to the dormitory by having his arms held down on both sides.

Clang!

The door slammed shut, plunging the room into darkness. Only light shone through the window, illuminating Wu Zhu's face. For a moment, he was half-asleep, struggling to adjust to the change in light.

The three men cornered Wu Zhu on the innermost side, brought over stools, and sat down, adopting the posture of a joint trial.

The three men looked extremely serious, and the once cozy dormitory instantly transformed into a courtroom.

Oh, it should be called the Dormitory Special Court.

Guo Xingang cleared his throat and spoke first:

"Wu Zhu, listen up!"

"I'm listening!"

Wu Zhu straightened his chest.

Guo Xingang took out his notebook and turned to a page:

"Guo Xingang, a liberal arts preparatory student; Wang Kunlun, a philosophy undergraduate student; and Chen Gongbo, a philosophy undergraduate student, are hereby questioned."

"I only have one mouth!"

"You're now ordered to shut up and wait for our questions!"

Wu Zhu shut his mouth in frustration.

"What are you trying to express with your book, *Rickshaw Boy*?"

"What are you implying!"

"What is your motive?!"

The three asked questions in an orderly fashion, creating a powerful sense of pressure.

Kuretake stood tall and righteous:

"It expresses the exact needs of rickshaw pullers, alludes to their plight, and is motivated by a desire to uphold social justice!"

"How dare you! When you wrote Xiangzi's ending, did you ever imagine this day would come!"

It turns out it was because of the ending of "Rickshaw Boy"...

The three of them stood up together and strode toward Wu Zhu, taking out their belts.

It seemed as if, in the next instant, they would pull out their belts and start slapping Wu Zhusong's flesh.

This is one of the advantages of living in the same house as the author; if you're not satisfied with the plot, you can discuss it offline anytime.

Wu Zhu felt that sending razor blades in later generations was utterly pathetic.

"Wait a minute, classmate!"

"Xiangzi is 70% good and 30% bad; he deserves a happy ending. I could write another one for internal consumption!"

"Whatever ending you want for Xiangzi! That's how I'll write it! Give me a chance, and I'll make Xiangzi a legend in Yanjing!"

As the saying goes, a wise man knows when to yield. He quickly "slid down" and, under the criticism of weapons, lacked the integrity of a literary man. He could easily transform into a legendary science fiction writer.

The three of them knew that Xiangzi's fate was sealed, and there was no point in changing it anymore, so they decided to stop while they were ahead.

"Alas, how can one word describe Xiangzi's misery?"

"Kuretake, your pen is truly sharp! You are destined for great things!"

"Alright! Now that he's claimed the pen name 'Yanjing Ke,' he'll sweep the literary scene in Yanjing. But we still need to be careful. I'm really afraid that one day, the police agents will come here and arrest Wu Zhulian and the three of us together and throw us in jail."

The three of them joked around as they opened their lunchboxes; inside were cold and cooked dishes, such as braised pork hock and smoked fish, which are easy to preserve in this weather and can also serve as sugar-coated bullets.

"Wow! This food is great today! Wu Zhu has really upgraded our meals again!"

"Quickly say thank you, Wu Zhu."

"Godfather!"