Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

October arrived late in Yanjing, and the summer heat finally dissipated, with the temperature dropping overnight.

At the corner of Zhonggu Hutong, a small stall selling roasted chestnuts has quietly appeared. With each swing of the shovel by the stall owner, the sweet aroma spreads everywhere, enticing the children's appetites. They reach out their little hands and tug at the adults' clothes, using the promise of "I promise to be good from now on" as leverage to beg their parents to buy some to try.

"Ah owe!"

Ma Yu, who should have been at school, stayed home because of a cold, looking like a wrapped-up dumpling, and sighed at how nice the autumn weather was.

Her nose was stuffy on and off. She squatted in the kitchen, staring at the gurgling earthenware pot, her face practically screaming utter despair.

Traditional Chinese medicine is very bitter! Adding sugar doesn't help...

Just as she was thinking about how to avoid taking the medicine, there was a sudden knock on the solid wood gate, followed by someone shouting:

"Number 18! Is anyone there? A letter has arrived!"

It was the postman calling from outside the door.

Ma Yu was a little slow-witted, paused for a moment, then suddenly stood up and replied:

"have!!!"

She was very excited, but because her voice was hoarse, it sounded like Donald Duck quacking.

"Where did this duck come from? Oh well, I'll just stuff the letter in..."

The postman muttered a few words under his breath, then slipped the letter through the crack in the door, where it fell to the ground.

Ma Yu immediately recognized it as the envelope that Zhu Junzi liked to use. He hurriedly picked up the letter and blew the dust off the surface.

She seemed to have forgotten that she had also boiled a pot of medicine. She dashed into the study, quickly tore open the envelope, and moved with incredible speed, showing no signs of illness whatsoever.

The spacious study was filled with ancient Chinese books and Western literature and history books, and recent newspapers were spread out on the table, showing how profound the owner's knowledge was. She sat behind the mahogany table, and it was hard not to feel like a child pretending to be an adult.

[Huaijin, your letter has been received.]

The gift is lovely and very useful to me. Thank you.

"whee!"

Ma Yu was a little happy, feeling that her nose was clear.

There's no need to place so much importance on me. I've only been eating for a few more years than you; I'm not an authority figure, and don't be superstitious about authority. Authority is established to be overthrown by future generations, just like how *New Youth* advocated overthrowing the Confucian establishment—otherwise, society cannot progress.

I hope you can hear the sound of new bones growing and sprouting; this is far more important than seeing the road clearly. If your bones aren't strong enough, even if the road is laid out before you, you probably wouldn't dare to walk it.

Makes sense!

Every time Ma Yu received a reply from Zhu Junzi, she felt that he was patiently teaching the little sister, guiding her little by little to understand the principles. Such a person is so gentle.

Furthermore, regarding the book club and work-study program you mentioned, that's excellent, and I wholeheartedly agree.

[The magazine *New Youth* published an article titled "A Study of Physical Education," which proposed that young people should be "strong, not weak," thus completing the slogan put forward by Mr. Zhongfu. Participating in labor can strengthen your body; I hope you and your classmates can persevere. However, the world today is not friendly to girls; please be careful about your personal safety when you are out.]

"I definitely will!"

Ma Yu cheered herself up.

By the way, have you seen the latest issue of the *Beijing Dialect Daily*? It published a novel called *Rickshaw Boy*, which is definitely worth reading.

[Xiangzi and the scholar you met represent two different fates under the same sky, sharing some similarities, but Xiangzi truly represents our times.]

If you have any thoughts after reading this, please feel free to share them briefly in your reply.

"I'm struck by how despicable that Beijing customer was! He actually wrote Xiangzi's ending as so tragic!"

Ma Yu said angrily, gritting her teeth.

She then poked the "Beijing Daily" on the desk with her finger. If Wu Zhu had stood in front of her and revealed his true identity, she probably would have bitten him hard.

Finally, the novel you've been waiting for is still struggling to grow under your pen; please be patient and wait some time.

Reading is important, but health is even more important. Take care.

【Bamboo Gentleman】

September 29th, 1918

As always, Ma Yu carefully put away the letter and picked up his pen to write a reply.

As she was writing, she seemed to suddenly remember something, found a copy of the "Public Opinion Daily" on her desk, folded it up, and stuffed it into an envelope.

[The government seems to be desperate lately, having actually drafted a Newspapers Act and submitted it to Parliament for passage. While I don't fully understand the clauses, I can sense their ill intentions. You and the gentlemen of *New Youth* magazine, please take care!]

She clapped her hands smugly, feeling that she could be of help.

Grandma's furious roar came from outside:

"Little Yu'er! The medicine's almost burned dry! What are you doing hiding in the room!"

"Ah? They're here..."

"Strange, where did this male duck come from?"

......

Two days later.

Classroom No. 34 on the west side of the second floor of Yenching University's Red Building.

Wu Zhu was dragged over by Guo Xingang, who said he was going to attend a recruitment speech for the "Yen Ching University Journalism Research Association," and that the speaker was a very impressive person.

When he saw the gentle-looking man in a suit behind the podium, the phrase "Shouldering the responsibility of upholding justice and writing scathing articles" immediately popped into his mind!

The man on stage, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and with regular features, was none other than a pioneer that later scholars of journalism could not ignore—

Shao Zhenqing!

adrift in chaotic times...

No wonder even Cai Yuanpei, Chen Zhongfu, Li Shouchang and others came and sat in the first row.

Wu Zhu decided to listen, but he would get a little distracted, so he deliberately sat in the back row, hiding behind the crowd.

Because Liang Shouming had just handed him a letter, saying it was a letter from a reader received by the Beijing Daily, and invited him to a banquet at Dongxinglou in a few days.

He was initially reluctant to move, but upon hearing the news of the dividends, he immediately agreed.

You can't get anywhere without money; nobody can turn down money...

Moreover, Yang Zizhen had also come over not long ago and handed him a thick stack of Huaijin's reply, the contents of which were unknown.

If Guo Xingang hadn't insisted on dragging someone into it, he would definitely be in his dorm right now, opening and replying to letters.

"Gentlemen, let me first introduce myself. My name is Shao Zhenqing..."

Once most of the audience members were seated, the speaker on stage began his speech.

Guo Xingang listened attentively and took out his notebook to jot down the key points.

Wu Zhu was multitasking, collecting the letters from readers of the Beijing Daily and then opening Huai Jin's letter, which focused on differential treatment.

Inside was a letter and a folded newspaper.

Completely bewildered, he pulled out the newspaper and unfolded it, only to find that it was yesterday's "Public Opinion Daily." Upon closer inspection, he saw that the supplement contained a commentary on "Rickshaw Boy."

Strictly speaking, it's criticism.

Recently, a newspaper published a novel, *Camel Xiangzi*, depicting the plight of rickshaw pullers in colloquial language, which has sparked considerable discussion. Our newspaper, after reviewing the article, finds that while it contains some realistic details, its focus is narrow, concentrating solely on highlighting the individual's hardship and sorrow, completely failing to consider the broader context of the nation's difficult transformation and the need for reconstruction.

With North-South peace talks stalled and foreign powers eyeing the country with predatory intent, literary creation should, in its gentle and mellow form, guide people towards good and contribute to social stability.

Such writings, which focus on the darker aspects of society and ignore the government's efforts, are likely to incite the emotions of those who are unaware of the situation, and are of no benefit to uniting the people and working together to overcome these difficult times.

[In our view, writers should be mindful of boundaries and take responsibility when composing. If they only seek the "truth" of depiction while forgetting the "importance" of the bigger picture, or even deliberately seek out darkness in pursuit of novelty, then not only will it not help the world and people's hearts, but it may also breed discontent and mislead the public.]

Those who observe this should reflect on themselves and create more works that inspire national spirit and showcase the resilience and upward momentum of our nation; this is the right path.

[Commentator Feng Zai]

Wu Zhu said he was very familiar with this!

Isn't he a typical "big picture" person?

The driver should think about the authorities; if I don't get robbed, who will?

He chose to laugh off such abstract arguments, seeing no need to get angry.

People of different classes speak according to their social standing. It's no wonder those guys at Anfu Club wouldn't say anything nice.

Expecting intellectuals from the Anfu clique to change their tune is futile unless they are held at gunpoint; otherwise, there is no possibility of reasoning with them. This is why criticism with weapons is necessary.

Wu Zhu didn't have time to provoke these guys, but a political news article in the main publication caught his eye.

Premier Duan Qirui submits the Newspaper Law to the National Assembly

This was something that was directly related to him, so he patiently looked down.

[Any newspaper or periodical must obtain approval from the police department before it can be published; it may not be published without permission.]

The publisher must pay a deposit of varying amounts before the newspaper is published.

The National Police Agency has the authority to order a newspaper to cease publication when it deems the content of a report to be seriously harmful.

Content that "confuses the political system," "disrupts public order," or "corrupts public morals" is strictly prohibited from being published...

Wu Zhu thought about it carefully and realized that it seemed to be a re-application of the "Newspaper Regulations" promulgated during Yuan Shikai's rule, and even the content was almost the same.

It's nothing more than using legal provisions that can be interpreted at will to stifle dissenting voices...

It seems that the Beiyang government realized that the unfavorable public opinion in recent years meant that if it did not introduce some legislation, it would follow in the footsteps of the Tsar next door.

Wu Zhu picked at his ear and laughed heartily.

What is the relationship between Yan Jingke and Zhu Junzi's novels published by "New Youth" and "Beijing Daily" and Hunan student Wu Zhu?

His mind was filled with his reply to Huaijin's letter, and he also thought of the joke about "what does the first birthday celebration of Shuren have to do with Lu Xun," and he accidentally let out a strange "hehehe" laugh, which sounded particularly jarring in the large classroom where only Shao Zhenqing was giving a speech.

The silence that I feared most during my school days suddenly appeared. Everyone turned to look at him and saw that it was the popular Zhu Junzi. Their eyes were filled with more or less doubt.

What are you doing, sir?

Shao Zhenqing was interrupted by the discordant sound, and then looked at the dazed Wu Zhu:

"Excuse me, do you have any complaints about my statement?"