Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

Chapter 49 Not enough money?

The night was noisy, with snoring filling the air.

"Wake up! Wake up!"

"Um?......"

Wu Zhu, who was having a dream, was abruptly woken up. He squinted at the blurry outline that had disturbed his sweet dream, thinking it was a prank by his three roommates.

That shouldn't be the case. Everyone was clearly drunk last night, except for Guo Xingang...

"Guo Xingang, you'd better run fast, or you'll be in big trouble if I catch you!"

He mumbled a few words in a daze, then shook his head vigorously, trying to speed up the boot process.

As my vision gradually cleared, I realized that Guo Xingang was reading a book with a serious expression, and standing by the bed was Mr. Pa Weng!

Getting caught drinking heavily by your supervisor... well, there aren't really any consequences. There's no rule against students drinking during holidays.

Wu Zhu calmly got up, rubbing his sleepy eyes:

"What's wrong, my dear director? Why did you come so early in the morning?"

Qian Xuantong's face was full of disappointment:

"Early morning? It's already noon!"

"Look at you! You've lost all semblance of a student; you're the epitome of depravity and decay. It truly chills me to the bone!"

He kept scolding and poking Wu Zhu's head until Wu Zhu let out a burp, then he waved his hand dismissively and walked away.

Guo Xingang kept his eyes down and focused intently on reading the "Collection of Short Stories by Famous European and American Writers" he had borrowed from the library, sitting even more upright than a primary school student.

The remaining two roommates were still fast asleep, occasionally smacking their lips as if unaware that a "ghost" had entered the dormitory.

It's no wonder Qian Xuantong was so annoyed. He had come specifically to deliver the manuscript fee to his beloved student, so that he wouldn't run out of living expenses, since the October issue of "New Youth" was about to be published.

As soon as he entered the room, he heard a chorus of snoring. Upon closer inspection, he saw his beloved student sleeping sprawled out, completely lacking in manners. If others found out, he would be utterly humiliated!

"In order not to disappoint Mr. Climbing Elder's expectations, I have made a decision..."

"Starting today, I will quit drinking!"

Wu Zhu made a solemn vow.

"Cough cough! Goose, goose, goose!"

Before Qian Xuantong could react, Guo Xingang couldn't help but laugh. His suppressed laughter sounded like the honking of a goose.

"Hehehehehe..."

"Hahaha, are you quitting until tonight...?"

Wang Kunlun, who was pretending to be asleep, laughed out loud with Chen Gongbo, and even asked a probing question.

Qian Xuantong's face was utterly humiliated. Facing the embarrassed gaze of his drunken apprentice, he pulled out a pile of silver dollars and threw them onto the bed:

"Your new book's royalties will be calculated at six yuan per thousand words. We'll round it up to three thousand words, making it a total of eighteen silver dollars. Count it and see if it's correct."

The roommates exchanged glances, surprised that Wu Zhu's royalties had now risen to six yuan.

Thankfully there are fewer words now; if there were more, the income would surely exceed one hundred.

Oh, it seems to have already broken 100.

Having been shocked so many times, the group had developed a resistance to it and now felt that it was perfectly normal.

Although the money wasn't theirs, they still shook their heads repeatedly, indicating that it was a bit too little this time.

However, as is customary, Wu Zhu would treat them to a meal every time he received his royalties, so they got excited as well.

"Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Climbing. Please have a seat. We'll all go out for lunch together later."

Wu Zhu had a lot of money in the bank, so without even glancing at the silver coins on the bed, he grabbed them and stuffed them under his pillow.

Seeing his beloved student's expression that said, "I don't care about this little bit of money," Qian Xuantong asked with some suspicion:

"Although it's not as much as last time, it's almost twenty. If you're careful, it can last for two months. Aren't you excited at all?"

"Excited! Of course I'm excited! I'm so touched, come here for a hug."

Realizing his attitude had been exposed, Wu Zhu hurriedly jumped out of bed and pretended to give Qian Xuan a hug.

"Okay, okay, stop!"

"You reek of alcohol. If I were to smell it on, your master's wife would nag me for ages. Don't let me get in trouble."

Qian Xuantong was so afraid of getting involved that he dodged far away.

When asked to have dinner, he politely declined as usual, and instead invited Wu Zhu to his home for dinner when he had some free time.

Wu Zhu couldn't refuse, both emotionally and logically, since inviting someone to a family dinner was a way of showing importance.

Besides, I've been under Mr. Climbing's tutelage for almost two months now, so I should definitely go and see my master's wife and junior brother...

He remembered Mr. Climbing Elder's third son, who would become a renowned science and engineering tycoon in the future. If he didn't try to curry favor with him now, when would he ever get the chance...?

"Alright, I'm leaving."

"Young people should take care of their health and not let alcohol get them into trouble."

Qian Xuantong turned to leave, still in a hurried and energetic manner.

Upon seeing this, Guo Xingang became restless, got up and blocked the way, and began rubbing his hands together like a fly.

"Professor Qian, did you forget something this time?"

"What?"

"Where's the sample copy?"

"I was in a hurry and forgot to bring it!"

......

Guo Xingang was heartbroken. He watched Qian Xuantong leave and returned to his desk, where he sat down with a dejected expression.

"Alright, I'll just buy two copies later."

"You don't understand this heart-wrenching feeling."

"..."

How could Wu Zhu not understand this feeling? But he was the one who knew the plot!

Afraid of provoking Guo Xingang, he didn't deliberately show off. Instead, he got up to boil water and prepare to take a bath.

In this era, tap water was a privilege enjoyed only by the wealthy, and naturally it didn't reach the alleyways.

Therefore, water mainly comes from wells dug by residents, but most of the wells contain shallow groundwater, and the quality of the water depends entirely on luck.

If you find a "sweet water well," you can drink it directly. But if you find a "bitter water well," you have to buy water to drink because you really can't drink it.

The old well in the courtyard rented by Wu Zhu was a typical bitter well. The water drawn up could only be used for washing. For drinking water, a water carrier had to deliver it to his door.

However, of the four rooms in the entire courtyard, only their room, occupied by university students, had the spare money to buy drinking water. The other three rooms were occupied by vendors and laborers, who usually just tolerated it as long as it didn't kill them.

Boiling bathwater takes time, and since he had nothing else to do, Wu Zhu made himself a cup of tea and opened Huai Jin's letter.

A sip of hot tea can make anyone feel much more energetic.

【Sir, I have read your letter repeatedly and can now recite it from memory.】

[After reading your line, "We are composing a morning song for the world in elegy," I was deeply moved.]

I find it hard to imagine how a human could possess such courage to move mountains.

Wu Zhu was somewhat flattered by the praise.

He just wanted to show off, bragging in private emails, since no one would know anyway. But Huaijin's words were just too sweet; every single one of them was so pleasing to the eye. He had a natural talent for flattery.

[Especially your analysis of such profound suffering, laid bare under the sunlight, initially startled me, but then brought me an unprecedented clarity.]

Your perspective on issues seems different from most people's; you always manage to pinpoint the crux of the matter incisively, which I truly admire.

[Your simple words resolved my confusion about Tiger Girl. Her dual identity as both exploiter and victim gave meaning to all her hateful and pitiful aspects.]

At first glance, I found the perspective on Xiangzi cold and unforgiving. But as soon as I closed my eyes, I recalled Xiangzi's tragic end, the fate of Old Ma and his grandson, and the rickshaw pullers who passed by every day, and gradually I came to accept it.

[Your words helped me detach myself from the emotions evoked by the novel and begin to rationally consider how society today relies on exploiting the majority to support a minority. Though it's difficult to grasp the basics, at least I've taken the first step.]

In short, you have blocked many seemingly possible detours.

"Fur, fur..."

Wu Zhu, on the contrary, became modest.

Whatever perspective they had on the problem was just fragmented knowledge learned from Mao Zedong Thought classes, not worth mentioning.

However, it seems that since he transmigrated and copied books, the person he has influenced the most is actually a female high school student, who has the potential to take down Hu Shi.

If I stop writing books, could I go work for the Women's Federation...?

[And your comments about my classmates at the end of your letter were so vivid, they made me laugh out loud.]

I shared your words with my classmates at school, but at first neither side wanted to listen, thinking I was mocking them, and they even started arguing with me.

Later, when I said these were your words, perhaps out of respect for your reputation, they calmed down and began to seriously consider your words.

[You said hope isn't something you can wait for. Seeing the current situation, my classmates are all asking me to ask you: what is the relationship between young people like us who are pondering this issue and people like Xiangzi in reality?]

What can we do for them?

This can be considered the ultimate test for aspiring young people during the May Fourth Movement.

The youth of this period, faced with the nihilism created by the times, did not choose to retreat, but actively explored ways out.

Wu Zhu rarely became serious, and he began to carefully consider how to answer this question.

What is the true relationship between intellectuals with lofty ideals and ordinary working people, and what can intellectuals do for the working people...?

For those of us living in the future, history itself is the answer.

The more questions I encounter, the more I realize how shallow my own knowledge is.

I originally thought that the classical Chinese texts and Western classics I had read since childhood would be of some help, but in the end I found that they were just old news, and the answers they provided were really unsatisfactory, not as good as your letter.

Therefore, I've asked my father to find the copy of *Das Kapital* that you recommended. He said it's an extremely thick book, and even if I'm determined to study it thoroughly, it will take me a long time, and I might not even understand it in the end.

But I will never be discouraged!

[I have good news for you. I've found a booklet of the works by Luxembourg and others that you recommended earlier, titled "Women's Suffrage and Class Struggle." Although there's a lot I don't understand, one passage in particular has stuck with me...]

Luxemburg warned: "Bourgeois women...are parasites among parasites of the social organism...always fanatically defending the exploitation and enslavement of the working people." I don't fully understand the meaning of this statement yet, but I think I must never become that kind of woman.

The depth and unique perspective of the books you recommended are unlike anything I've ever heard of before. This has only increased my admiration for you.

Wu Zhu had a premonition that the seed he had casually sown would eventually grow into a towering tree.

Huaijin is still young, but he will definitely achieve great things in the future!

Finally, sir, are you available on weekdays?

I often wonder, what kind of person are you in real life, the one who wrote these words?

Is it like my father, with the authority of a professor; or like the students of Yenching University I've met, lively, enthusiastic, and full of energy...?

"Sir, I really want to meet you!"

I know this may sound presumptuous, or as my father would say, "unreserved." But I firmly believe that contemporary women who support modern literature must oppose the constraints of traditional ethics and raise any questions boldly, without being bound by gender or social status!

Please don't misunderstand! I'm not asking for anything specific; I simply want to consult you about modern literature and the works of scholars like Luxembourg!

Yes! That's right! Besides, I'm already eighteen, and my father said it's okay...

Please forgive my intrusion.

[Respectfully submitted by Huaijin]

October 9th, 1918

Wu Zhu was both amused and exasperated.

Huaijin is about to graduate from high school, so it's not surprising that she's turned eighteen. People like Yang Zizhen are already twenty!

He just didn't expect Huaijin to be so bold.

The abacus beads were practically flying into his face.

Our pure correspondence must never be tainted!

But then Wu Zhu remembered that Yang Zizhen had said Huaijin was good-looking...

Sigh! One thing at a time, but what can I do? He's a sucker for good looks...

The letter has been received.