Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

From the age of twelve, I worked as a waiter at the "Jinghua Tavern" outside Fuchengmen... The manager had a fierce face, and the customers were never friendly, making it impossible to be lively.

[Only when Kong Yiji came to the shop could I laugh a few times, which is why I still remember him to this day...]

Kong Yiji was the only person who drank standing up while wearing a long gown. He was very tall; his complexion was pale and bluish, and his wrinkles were often interspersed with scars; he had a tangled, graying beard. Although he wore a long gown, it was dirty and tattered, seemingly unpatched and unwashed for over ten years.

He always spoke in archaic and literary phrases, leaving people only half-understanding. Because his surname was Kong, people nicknamed him Kong Yiji, based on the incomprehensible phrase "Shang Da Ren Kong Yiji" found on calligraphy practice sheets.

The apprentice's perspective was very interesting to Qian Xuantong, as it meant that readers had to piece together the whole story from the apprentice's memories, leaving plenty of room for imagination.

As he envisioned, the character of Kong Yiji was a product of the old imperial examination system, a kind of old-style literati.

He gleaned a sense of destitution from the apprentice's naive and snobbish perspective, and the image of Kong Yiji wearing a long gown and drinking standing up reminded him of many of his contemporary literary figures...

Even his name was a nickname with profound meaning, and Kong Yiji hid behind this nickname, using classical Chinese to erect a barrier for himself.

As soon as Kong Yiji entered the tavern, everyone drinking there looked at him and laughed... The tavern was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

[I overheard people talking behind his back that Kong Yiji had once been educated, but he never passed the imperial examinations and couldn't make a living; so he grew poorer and poorer until he was about to beg for food... The shop was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.]

Qian Xuantong began to feel uneasy.

In his view, Kong Yiji had a kind of pedantic obsession with old learning, and his sophistry that "stealing books is not stealing" was too absurd. Anyway, he couldn't laugh at it.

Not only was he pedantic, but he was also fond of drinking and lazy.

But after reading "Rickshaw Boy", Qian Xuantong asked himself – was this something he was born with?

No, it's the personality distortion caused by traditional learning. Scholars are unwilling to do things, so stealing is an inevitable result, not an innate moral character!

The raucous laughter of those drinkers who mocked Kong Yiji reminded Qian Xuantong of the national character of contemporary China...

Up to this point, the novel contains no direct accusation, but merely uses concise, descriptive language to recreate memories. Yet, it is far more powerful than a direct accusation, like slowly scraping the flesh of this scholar with a knife.

At these times, I could join in the laughter, and the shopkeeper would never reprimand me... Kong Yiji was such a source of amusement, but without him, others would go on as usual.

"well....."

Upon seeing this, Qian Xuantong let out a long sigh.

If Kong Yiji were only characterized by his destitution, pedantry, and laziness, that would be one thing.

The key point is that this old-fashioned scholar also had a kind side; he could teach the young apprentice to read, but he also became too bookish, appearing to be deliberately showing off his old knowledge. How could anyone pay attention to him for a small job that was just to conform to the crowd? Instead, he would share his fennel beans with the children, which became a source of amusement for them.

Although it lacks the madness of "Diary of a Madman" and the blood-soaked buns of "Medicine," "Kong Yiji" remains as cold as ever. Even though Kong Yiji disappears briefly, no one in the tavern cares about him.

By now, he was starting to feel a chill. As a scholar, how could he not empathize?

Qian Xuantong glanced at his apprentice who was leisurely drinking tea and thought to himself: What a heartless little brat!

One day, about two or three days before the Mid-Autumn Festival, the shopkeeper was slowly settling accounts. As he took down the chalk board, he suddenly said, "Kong Yiji hasn't been here for a long time. He still owes nineteen copper coins!"... "How could anyone know? Perhaps he's dead."

The shopkeeper didn't ask any more questions and continued slowly calculating his accounts... After the Mid-Autumn Festival, the autumn wind grew colder day by day, and it was almost early winter... Kong Yiji then sat down under the counter, facing the threshold. His face was dark and thin, almost unrecognizable; he wore a tattered jacket, sat cross-legged, with a straw mat underneath him, held up by a rope over his shoulder.

Upon seeing me, he said, "Warm a bowl of wine."...I have yet to see him again—it seems Kong Yiji is indeed dead.

Upon reaching the end, Qian Xuantong gripped the manuscript tightly.

Kong Yiji had his leg broken for stealing from a scholar's house. He crawled to the tavern on his hands, but the people around him still mocked him. He could only plead, but no one cared. He had no choice but to leave amidst laughter.

This time, he left and never appeared again.

Only the shopkeeper would occasionally remember that Kong Yiji owed money, while "I" said that Kong Yiji was "probably" "indeed" dead.

These two contradictory words had such a powerful impact on him that his heart pounded wildly and he couldn't stop.

With only a debt of nineteen copper coins and a vague guess, all the sorrow became worthless and exploded at this moment.

No one remembers Kong Yiji, and no one cares about him. In the end, the only trace he left behind was nineteen copper coins.

This is a person! A living, breathing person! A person with flaws and strengths! Not a product sold in a shop!

......

Qian Xuantong kept his head down and didn't move for a long time.

He felt that this novel was an ingenious "massacre," using the most detached language to dissect an indifferent society.

Although the styles of "Diary of a Madman" and "Medicine" are different, the descriptions that are close to life are even more chilling!

The paper was already crumpled; if he applied any more force, it would tear.

"Mr. Climbing Elder, how is it?"

Wu Zhu's voice rang out.

"I hate the old way of learning even more now."

Qian Xuantong snapped out of his daze and slammed the manuscript paper on the table.

He looked at his complacent apprentice. The setting sun streaming in through the window barely illuminated the young man's face, yet his weariness was still evident.

My dear child, you must have had a very tiring night last night...

These words are so heartbreaking, no wonder you need to drink, otherwise you definitely wouldn't be able to sleep...

If Wu Zhu knew these thoughts, he would definitely laugh out loud. He was just drunk and had nothing to do with hardship.

"Your 'Kong Yiji' has torn off the fig leaf of the imperial examination system and nailed it to the literary world for all to see."

"In such a short length, there isn't a single wasted word, not a trace of sentimentality. The story is told entirely from the young waiter's perspective, leaving the reader to see, experience, and feel the chill for themselves... more powerful than a thousand curses..."

Qian Xuantong was incoherent, pacing back and forth in his office, wanting to say all his thoughts after reading the book, but he couldn't finish them all. He stretched out his finger and trembled in the air, appearing very impatient.

"My back aches, my legs cramp, ugh... Mr. Climber, what do you think I should do?"

Wu Zhu lay on Qian Xuantong's chair, hinting at something.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Qian Xuantong quickly came around and massaged Wu Zhu in a very unpretentious manner, controlling the pressure just right, afraid of hurting his eldest disciple.

"Old Qian, what about my teaching assistant situation..."

Wu Zhu didn't finish his sentence, but instead made a series of suggestive hints.

Qian Xuantong hurriedly replied:

"You have a bachelor's degree, and I thought you were a little lacking in qualifications before, but now that you've brought out 'Kong Yiji,' I think you're qualified enough."

"Just wait and see. I'll go to Cai Gong in the next few days and ask him to submit it to the council for a decision. I don't think anyone will object!"

This reason was quite reasonable, and Wu Zhu was satisfied:

"It's getting late. Mr. Qian, please deliver this manuscript to Mr. Zhongfu tomorrow. I still need to discuss some things with him then."

"What's up?"

Qian Xuantong looked suspicious.

"Sigh... Fu Mengzhen came to me, asking me to help him start a club and a magazine, and to help him raise the issue of funding and land allocation with Mr. Zhongfu."

"That's great, I'll speak up for you then!"