Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

"Yes! I am Wu Zhu, your student. I am truly sorry to bother you so late at night!"

Wu Zhu then realized what was happening and hurriedly took out the note that Brother Li had given him and handed it to Yang Huaizhong.

There's not much there, just an address and a brief introduction:

[I now have a friend, Wu Zhu, a talented young man from Lingling.]

[With a heart set on saving the world, he is truly a talented individual; he possesses profound insight into the state of society.]

[The student and his friend are very close, and the student knows the friend is penniless. He has taken the liberty of recommending the friend to the teacher, hoping the teacher will provide assistance and guidance.]

[Respectfully submitted by student Li Ziren, wishing you good health.]

Using the light from inside the room, Yang Huaizhong could clearly see the small characters on the paper and confirmed that it was his beloved disciple's handwriting. He then stepped aside to make way for him.

"Come in. Since you're a talented young man from Lingling, and we're all from the same hometown, we should naturally lend a hand if you're in trouble. What brings you to Yanjing this time?"

"To be honest, I just graduated from Hunan Second Normal School and want to apply for a research position at Yenching University. I just arrived in Yenching today and have nowhere to go, so I can only trouble you here, sir."

Wu Zhu squeezed into the courtyard with fruit in his hand and found a stove burning in the middle of the yard, with a pottery jar on it bubbling and black liquid churning.

Considering the course of history, it should have been the medicine Yang Huaizhong used to treat his stomach ailment, but unfortunately...

"Good ambition! I've heard that Yenching University is recruiting researchers. This is different from ordinary exams. You'll have to impress Brother Cai in the interview. Which research institute are you planning to apply to?"

Yang Huaizhong stopped and squatted down next to the medicine pot, picking up a palm-leaf fan to interrupt Wu Zhu's thoughts.

As a professor at Yenching University, even if I don't preside over related work, I certainly know more about the recruitment of researchers than outsiders.

Ignoring Yang Zizhen's suggestive glances, Wu Zhu placed the fruit on the recliner under the eaves, and very familiarly approached Yang's side, taking the palm-leaf fan and fanning himself in a rather pretentious manner.

"I studied humanities at the Second Normal School. What advice do you have for me, sir?"

"There are three institutes for humanities: Chinese Literature, English Literature, and Philosophy. It depends on what you are good at."

"Naturally, it's Chinese."

"That'll be quite a spectacle! It'll be more noisy inside than a warlord's battle. Leaving aside whether you have the ability to get in, do you even have the courage?"

Yang Huaizhong shook his head, seemingly regretting why such a perceptive young man would choose to go to the Institute of Chinese Literature.

It's worth noting that in recent years, the disagreements and arguments among liberal arts professors at Yenching University have never stopped and are even escalating. Getting in will definitely involve paying respects to the top professors, and no matter who you choose as your advisor, you will inevitably be affected in the end.

You can mock the integrity of scholars, but you should never underestimate their eloquence. For the most learned group of scholars in China, it's easier than drinking water to devise ways to insult someone's ancestors without using any vulgar language.

As a student of Yenching University in later generations, how could Wu Zhu not know about the debates among academic elites? In terms of ability and courage... not only were they there, but they were also very significant!

He wanted to show the professors what kind of shock a plagiarist from later generations could bring!

"Since the student dared to ask his family for money and travel all the way from Lingling to Yanjing, he must have been prepared to step into a storm. As for whether he can pass Principal Cai's interview, all we can say is that we will do our best."

"Actually, besides resting, the students have another request."

Wu Zhu probed.

Yang Huaizhong was very satisfied with the vigor displayed by the young man beside him, which was almost identical to that of his several beloved students. In his view, this was the kind of vitality that young students should have, and he did not immediately refuse.

"Tell me, I'll do my best to help you with anything I can do."

"I want to submit a manuscript to 'New Youth,' but I heard that the editorial team is now writing for themselves and doesn't really need external manuscripts. I hope you can act as an intermediary and help me get my novel forwarded to the editors."

These words were truly earth-shattering.

Yang Huaizhong paused, turned his head in surprise, and carefully examined Wu Zhu, his gaze gradually becoming serious.

Yang Zizhen, who had been wondering what was inside the fruit bag, also shuddered, as if she had heard something unbelievable:

"You want to submit an article to *New Youth* magazine?!"

"Do you even know what kind of place that is? An article written by a poor country student like you, which my dad is supposed to pass on to Professor Chen and his group, will only make us a laughingstock!"

His words were filled with disbelief, and he even lost his voice as he spoke.

For young students of this era, including Yang Zizhen, who didn't dream of becoming a "great writer"?

The status of "New Youth" is comparable to that of a literary bible. Many people dream of submitting an article to it, and they are willing to forgo payment if their article is accepted for publication.

However, everyone was self-aware enough to know the gap between their literary level and that of the professors at Yenching University. Submitting their work would only make them a laughing stock. It would be better to study modern literature diligently and bring it up again when they had achieved some success.

Therefore, he usually only posts his opinions on the published articles in the "Communications" and "Readers' Forum" columns, hoping to get replies from the professors. As for writing a novel like "Diary of a Madman," it is no exaggeration to say that it is something he thinks about day and night.

Strictly speaking, it's not that no students have successfully submitted articles for publication, but now a young man from the countryside in southern Hunan is asking for connections to submit his work to "New Youth" magazine. How can this not be shocking?

Unlike his son, Yang Huaizhong did not react in the same way; his tone was more serious.

Is this really true?

"Absolutely true. Sir, aren't you curious about whether I have the ability to get into the Institute of Chinese Literature? You can read my novel first."

Wu Zhu had already made his decision, but he was struggling to figure out what to copy. What he saw and heard today gave him a burst of inspiration.

He wanted to write a story about medicine.

Seeing that the young man before him seemed genuine and full of confidence, unlike someone who was arrogant despite lacking ability, Yang Huaizhong also became interested:

"Since you have this ability, why do you want to submit your work to *New Youth* magazine?"

"I'm new here and want to earn some money."

"But now that 'New Youth' has stopped paying for articles, it's better to submit to other magazines instead."

"I believe that my articles will earn me payment from New Youth."

This was the first time Yang Huaizhong had ever seen such an arrogant young man.

To be precise, it's no longer in the category of arrogance.

For someone to say something like that, they either have something to offer or they're incredibly powerful.

He was intrigued and said in a deep voice:

"How about this, let me see your novel. If I think it's feasible, it wouldn't hurt to recommend it to someone, so as not to bury truly talented young people... If I think it's not feasible, then please find another place."

The meaning is clear: they want to give Wu Zhu a chance. If it turns out to be a bluff in the end, then he will definitely have to pay the price.

Nobody should be taken advantage of for nothing!

Wu Zhu knew this well, and scratched his head somewhat embarrassedly:

"I haven't written it yet, could I borrow a pen?"

The corners of Yang's father and son's mouths twitched.

After all that talk, your novel is still in your head, and you don't even have paper and pen in your hand!

"Zizhen, take Wu Zhu to the south room to rest, and lend him your pen."

"Father! That was a gift from my sister!"

"Stop talking nonsense!"

"Hey! Come with me! If you can get your manuscript accepted by New Youth, I'll study hard from now on and never dream of becoming a literary giant again!"