Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

The following afternoon, the sun was gloomy.

The bell rang to signal the end of the last class in the afternoon.

Wu Zhu refused Qian Xuantong's offer to stay and the classmates' invitation to dinner. He strode up to the fourth floor without stopping. After turning back to make sure no one was following him, he turned towards the stairs leading to the rooftop.

Like spies sent by the Anfu Clique, they seemed somewhat guilty...

Tap, tap, tap—

The door to the rooftop in the stairwell, which is usually locked to prevent students from going up and causing accidents, was ajar today, indicating that someone was on the rooftop.

This is the result of Wuzhu bribing the employee...

He pushed open the door; it was quiet, not even a breeze.

The rooftop offers a wide view, overlooking the majestic Forbidden City. I wonder what that little Puyi is up to now.

He casually closed the door behind him, stood by the railing with his hands behind his back, overlooking the ancient city of Yanjing, and waited quietly.

Looking across the literary circles of both the North and South, who can rival the plagiarist in every way...?

Life is truly as lonely as snow...

Before he could add a few lines to his performance, footsteps sounded behind him, followed by a clear voice:

"You've arrived."

"I am coming."

"You said you'd arrive before get out of class ended at noon, you should have come earlier."

"I didn't have a choice just now, and I was delayed a bit. Please give me another chance..."

Wu Zhu pulled the hastily completed manuscript out of his pocket and handed it to his back.

It felt strangely like a spy rendezvous in a TV drama, where you can't see the face of your contact.

Liang Shouming was completely bewildered, having no idea what kind of trouble Wu Zhu was up to.

He took the manuscript wrapped in letter paper, but did not open it in a hurry:

"Your work speed is faster than the trains on the Beijing-Hankou line."

"Quality and quantity guaranteed, you can inspect the goods first."

Why are you turning your back to me?

"You don't understand, this is called turning your back on all living beings and making absolute decisions for all ages."

Wu Zhu looked down at the view of the capital city and refused to turn around no matter what.

If Heaven had not given birth to a gentleman like me, the literary world would have remained in eternal darkness...

Pen, please!

Liang Shouming remained silent.

He strongly suspected that Wu Zhu had become obsessed with writing novels.

"What are you standing there for? Look quickly."

"baffling."

Seeing that Wu Zhu wouldn't turn around no matter what he said, he was too lazy to ask what was going on. He found a step to sit down and, in the increasingly dim sunlight, took the manuscript out of the envelope.

The manuscript paper is much thinner than that of "Rickshaw Boy". I estimate that it should only have 20,000 to 30,000 words, which will save you time and effort to read.

The Bao Family

When Liang Shouming saw the title, he thought Wu Zhu had written a short drama about family ethics and subconsciously assumed that the content was a satire of feudal ethics.

He patiently read on, only to discover that Wu Zhu's writing style had changed again, lacking the "Beijing flavor" of before, but that didn't matter.

Old Bao, Chonggu Primary School, Following the Kings, Preserving the National Essence...

After scanning the first few paragraphs, he immediately realized—as everyone knows, people from southern Hunan cannot distinguish between Wang and Huang.

So you really wrote a novel criticizing Huang Kan?

Liang Shouming sincerely praised:

"You're a real talent, truly, the first time I've ever met one."

"Time waits for no one, I still have to go find someone, look!"

Wu Zhu still didn't turn around, glanced at the non-existent watch, and urged again.

He was going to find Huaijin and have a chat about life...

Liang Shouming nodded and looked down with great interest.

The first section is quite simple. It is about the early opening of the Imperial Academy of Chinese Studies in Beijing, which claims to "study knowledge and preserve national essence." Bao, a pedantic scholar who teaches at the "Chonggu Primary School," is facing economic pressure and the challenge of his good-for-nothing son, Bao Guowei.

However, the character traits of this father and son are truly lamentable.

Old Bao pinned all his hopes on his son, but his son failed academically and was morally corrupt. In the end, during the dispute over "dress expenses," the word "decency" broke down Old Bao's defenses.

It's truly... incomprehensible that they would compromise on this "respectable aspect of traditional Chinese culture" when even tuition fees are so difficult to obtain.

Liang Shouming initially thought that Wu Zhu was just writing for fun, but the more he read, the more serious he became, and he abandoned his contempt.

Old Bao walked from the "Chonggu Elementary School" to the Imperial Academy in the capital. His hand was in the pocket of his long gown, tightly clutching the bag of silver dollars.

["Sir, Bao Guowei's ceremonial robes are still new, these twenty..."]

[“New school regulations, updated etiquette. Last year it was wide sleeves, this year it's arrow sleeves with blue trim. All the ancient styles that Mr. Liu helped approve must be redone. Failure to comply is unacceptable.”]

The room was packed with people paying their fees... They burst into laughter when Old Bao mentioned "ceremonial attire." Some wore silk sheepskin robes, while others wore sharp suits, their conversation interspersed with English or Latin phrases.

"Clothing! ...Who is this old gentleman paying the bill for?"

"Bao Guowei," ... "is the one who frequently visits Mr. Wang's house, calling himself a 'disciple of the private school.'"

"Oh, him? Hasn't Mr. Wang been getting quite close to that English major lately? I heard he even took her to Liulichang to pick out inkstones," another student chimed in, a knowing smile playing on their lips.

"Sir, didn't your son mention it to you? Mr. Wang has many elegant anecdotes; even the girls in the Eight Great Hutongs can recite his poems."

The old man gave them a wry smile, as if greeting them... The group of young people exchanged knowing glances, but none of them answered. A hint of amusement flickered in their eyes... Many gazes fell upon him, some without malice, merely curiosity, but enough to make him feel uneasy.

"Why make new ceremonial attire?" he thought with a hint of complaint. "Ancient rituals emphasize inner meaning, not outward appearance... However, since it was Mr. Liu who decided on it, there must be a deeper meaning behind it."

The thought of his son being associated with these masters filled him with a complex sense of pride.

When Liang Shouming saw the beginning of the second section, setting aside Wu Zhu's deliberately inserted personal agenda, the last sarcastic sentence filled him with mixed feelings.

And this applies to more than just traditional Chinese studies.

The Qing court's supporters were incredibly proud when they heard that Empress Dowager Cixi had declared war on the foreign powers...

When Xiangzi got his new rickshaw, didn't he straighten his back a bit more? But in the end, the rickshaw had nothing to do with him at all...

Isn't this old Bao the same? He blindly believes in authorities who have nothing to do with him to comfort himself, but in the end, the traditional Chinese culture he upholds will probably vanish into thin air!

Although the writing styles may seem different, the spirit of criticism remains.

He took a deep look at Wu Zhu's back. Although the kid had suddenly started putting on an act, he really had the ability to do so.

Perhaps the reason I look up at the sky now is simply because I can't step out of the book?

"I'm looking for a gentleman. I am—I am—I am Bao Guowei's parent."

"Go to the counter over there to pay, it's all written there."

"I know, I know. But our Bao Guowei—Bao Guowei…" Old Bao stammered for a long time before finally getting to his point.

"Sir, there's nothing we can do about it. Rules are rules. Ceremonial procedures are part of the school's code of conduct, especially for humanities subjects, where they are even more important. Professor Liu and Professor Wang strongly advocated for... This year's revision of the ceremonial procedures is to rectify the academic atmosphere and counter those fashionable trends that are neither Chinese nor Western, you understand?"

Old Bao sighed, his face still forcing a smile... He spoke as if pleading for justice, recounting how poor his family was, how studious his son was, how he had gained the favor of a renowned teacher, and how he bore the heavy responsibility of preserving the essence of Chinese culture... But his words were not quite fluent, as if his tongue had tied in a knot.

The gentleman, determined to end the conversation, frowned and said, "What's the point of telling me this? Schools aren't charities! Respect for teachers and proper etiquette are fundamental principles! Do you want your son to be laughed at for being impolite, like those blabbermouths?"

Old Bao was stunned... He slowly walked towards the door... If the money wasn't paid by tomorrow, Bao Guowei would be suspended from school... This child had finally managed to get into the Imperial Academy and become Mr. Wang's student... Old Bao turned back.

The teacher slammed the newspaper on the table: "Why can't you reason with me! Rules are rules! All fees must be paid in full at once! If you don't pay by tomorrow morning, you'll be suspended from school! Do you understand? Do you understand? Do you get it?!"

The man stood up and left, exiting through the door, which slammed shut with a loud bang—the wall even shook.

Liang Shouming continued to look down and saw how classical Chinese studies and vernacular Chinese had become a means for schools to make money, how bureaucrats were abusing their power in the schools, and how Lao Bao was rendered speechless by the authority "set by the master". He felt that Wu Zhu was really cruel.

This shows absolutely no respect for traditional Chinese culture.

Isn't this exactly what the current circles of traditional Chinese studies are like? They put on a hypocritical facade of defending the orthodox tradition, and then profit immensely from it.

Huang Kan, a man who preys on women, is a typical example, as are Kang Youwei and Liang Qichao, who were praised to the skies...

As for this bureaucratic style, isn't it an allusion to when Yenching University was still known as the "Imperial University of Peking"?

He was now certain that Wu Zhu was not just targeting Huang Kan, but rather the rotten core of traditional Chinese learning, tearing off the scabs to expose the festering sores to the world!

Old learning should be abolished, and education should be reformed!

However, isn't such a method a bit too extreme?