Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

Chapter 81: Pressuring for the Pen Name

Monday has finally arrived.

Because of "The Bao Family," Yenching University is incredibly lively right now. The three old monsters have been thrust into the spotlight, and cries of "Get out of Yenching University" are everywhere.

Even Hu Shih didn't dare to come to class, fearing that the three of them would chase and beat him, even though he knew the novel had nothing to do with him.

The first class of the morning was held in classroom number 35 of the Red Building.

Huang Kan walked onto the podium with a livid face and dark circles under his eyes, clearly indicating that he hadn't had a good rest in the past two days.

He glanced around the audience; the students were either serious or trying to suppress their laughter, but their eyes held a hint of pity as they looked at him.

To be verbally abused like that, with someone pointing their finger at you, is truly awful.

Huang Kan was immediately enraged. He slammed his lecture notes and newspapers on the table with a loud "thud," startling the students.

A storm is brewing...

He held up the two latest copies of the Beijing Daily, shaking them loudly, his face pale with anger and veins bulging on his forehead.

"There are petty villains hiding behind aliases, using novels as daggers and innuendo as hidden arrows to tarnish the reputation of Chinese classical learning and slander the character of our generation!"

"His intentions are despicable, and his writing is even more vulgar! It's blatant slander!"

He became increasingly agitated as he spoke, tearing the newspaper in his hand to shreds: "Bao Guowei? This is clearly a veiled attack, a veiled insult!"

Who is "Mr. Wang"? Who is "Mr. Gu"? And who is "Mr. Liu"?!

"The Changming Chinese Classical Studies Society," "the female student's romantic escapades," "academic fraud"... each and every one of these points has a specific target!

"How are such despicable tactics any different from those of a gossipy woman in the marketplace? How are they any different from those of a petty person who makes false accusations and frames others?!"

"Outrageous! Disgusting! Vulgar!"

There may be some exaggeration involved, but is it all slander?

The students present didn't think so, after all, they had all heard about your glorious deeds a few days ago.

Seeing that no one echoed him this time, Huang Kan's arrogance burned even brighter. He grabbed a piece of chalk and wrote the word "wenge" on the blackboard. After he finished writing, the chalk broke with a "snap".

"The style reflects the person!"

"A writer who produces such insidious and malicious works, specializing in exposing private matters, must have a despicable character! Their intentions must be sinister! This is a cancer on modern literature, a disgrace to vernacular Chinese!"

The students below the stage were completely silent, their expressions varied.

How come it seems like you're the one jumping up and down now?

If you feel you've been insulted, just write back. If a writer doesn't dare to engage in a war of words and only dares to yell at a bunch of students in the classroom, what's the difference between that and impotent rage?

Huang Kan understood the look in the students' eyes.

The current trend is not towards traditional learning; the new literature is struggling to find a target and is hoping that influential writers will step forward to be criticized. Therefore, no one dares to take the lead.

If he were to openly engage in a war of words, he would definitely become a target, be criticized in turn, and who knows what else might be dug up...

He ignored the students' stares and raised his voice to continue his tirade: "And those who support such demonic writings, advocate for them, and provide them with a platform are the real culprits!"

"Hu Shih! You advocate vernacular Chinese, destroying our moral principles and ruining our writing. Now you use this despicable novel to attack our predecessors and slander scholarship! Is this the kind of base and unscrupulous culture you call 'New Culture'?!"

Are the so-called "Mr. Democracy" and "Mr. Science" simply teaching people to be ungrateful, to betray their teachers and ancestors?!

Spit flew three meters away.

Sitting in the front row, Zhang Fengzai wiped his face clean, stood up, straightened his suit collar, raised the "Public Opinion Daily" in his hand, and cleared his slightly shrill voice: "What Lord Huang said is absolutely right!"

"The students who read today's editorial in the *Gongyan Bao* newspaper share the same sentiment!"

He unfolded the newspaper and read aloud with emphasis and intonation: "Recently, there has been a novel called 'The Bao Family,' which uses the name of literature to attack scholars, alludes to contemporary Confucian scholars, and distorts academic cases. Its intentions are despicable, and its writing is disgusting."

"Such works not only fail to promote traditional Chinese culture, but also expose their own shortcomings. They reveal the impetuous mentality of some new-style literati who are eager for quick success and will stop at nothing to achieve it, a far cry from the profound, dignified, and upright character of true traditional Chinese learning!"

No one in the room paid any attention to him.

He could only look at Huang Kan, and with the latter’s encouraging gaze, he immediately regained his confidence, as if he were the vanguard of “defending the Way”, and said passionately: “Fellow students! Chinese studies are the root of our national spirit, the way of sages and the tradition of literature. How can we allow villains to slander them?”

'

"Some people, with only a superficial understanding of traditional Chinese culture, are like dogs barking at the sun, attempting to shake the very foundations of Chinese literature with a few nonsensical novels!"

"As the seeds of traditional Chinese learning, we should rise up to defend the classics and set the record straight. How can we sit idly by and watch such clowns tarnish the reputation of academia?"

This time there was finally applause, though it was sparse.

But in the eyes of many students, Zhang Fengzai seemed just like Bao Guowei!

It's an uncanny resemblance; the author of "The Bao Family" truly captured the essence of the story.

Seeing that the effect was not good, Zhang Fengzai hurriedly winked at his followers, and the classroom atmosphere became more lively.

"The vernacular language movement advocated by the new school is dismantling our thousand-year-old cultural heritage; the new school is advocating the overthrow of the Confucian shop."

They have destroyed our ethical and moral principles; the Western doctrines promoted by the new school are shaking the very foundations of our nation!

"Yes! What else could this be but 'forgetting one's roots'?!"

"They accuse us of being conservative?" What we uphold is the spirit of our nation and the orthodoxy of our culture! "They accuse us of being hypocritical?" What we seek is the true essence of knowledge and the practice of morality!

"We are here today not merely for a debate on scholarship, but to defend the Way! To defend the tradition of Chinese literature, the dignity of our ancient classics, and the integrity and reputation of our scholars! How can we allow such demonic writings to tarnish the academic world?"

To confuse the public?!

The group cursed vehemently, releasing all the pent-up frustration of the past few days.

Seeing all this, Zhang Fengzai silently stopped, a smug look on his face, as if this "holy war to defend the Way" was his great achievement.

Most students lowered their heads and frowned, but dared not show it at this moment.

Just as the room was filled with indignation, a figure suddenly flashed past the door.

Huang Kan, with his sharp eyes, immediately recognized the student carrying the book and humming a tune. He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Wu Zhu, stop right there!"

The previously noisy classroom fell silent instantly, and all eyes turned to Wu Zhu, who had stepped back and was looking bewildered.

Wu Zhu knew perfectly well what was going on, but feigned helplessness and bowed deeply: "Master Huang, what brings you here?"

"Stop pretending! Did you write 'The Bao Family'?!"

Huang Kan walked down from the podium step by step, exuding a powerful aura.

However, because Wu Zhu bowed, he reluctantly returned the bow.

Zhang Fengzai and the others glared angrily at Wu Zhu, as if they would rush forward and beat him up as soon as they heard "yes".

Wu Zhu blinked, her tone aggrieved: "What does Master Huang mean by this?"

"Stop pretending! Hu Shi has already denied that it was him. With such seasoned writing skills, such inside knowledge, and such audacity, who else in the entire Yenching literary world could match you!"

Huang Kan's face turned bright red, and his glasses almost fell off his nose.

Wu Zhu took a half step back and gave a French military salute: "Professor Huang, you must understand that I have been translating foreign works in the reading room recently, and my classmates can all testify to that."

"You should think about it carefully. That Yanjing Ke even wrote the biography of Xiangzi. Such writing, which depicts the suffering of rickshaw pullers and the various aspects of life in the city, could not have been done without going deep into the lower classes, living and eating with the laborers, and accumulating observations over many years."

"Students have heavy workloads every day, shuttling between dormitories, classrooms, and libraries. Where do they find the time and experience for that?"

Hey!

Shu Qingchun did have this experience, but Wu Zhu is a plagiarist from the future. If he were to conduct field research, the advantage of time travel would be lost.

I just didn't expect that my momentary laziness would come in handy at this time, helping him to make some excuses.

Since "Rickshaw Boy" truly requires profound life experience, it is by no means something that a student who has just arrived in Yenching and spends his days buried in his study can easily acquire, Huang Kan was momentarily speechless.

After all, if he continued to curse, his junior apprentice would definitely turn on him again and give him a good scolding.

Zhang Fengzai, skeptical, interjected, "Perhaps you've heard it from someone else and then embellished it!"

Wu Zhu smiled slightly, with a hint of sarcasm: "Brother Zhang, you overestimate me. If I had such an ability to make flowers bloom upon hearing something, I would truly be blessed by the God of Literature."

The classroom erupted in whispers, with many students agreeing.

Huang Kan remained silent for a long time, his suspicions undiminished. A few days earlier, Wu Zhu had made a statement, but having exhausted all other options, he could only turn and walk back to the podium: "Even if it wasn't written by you, it must be related to someone like you! Similar writing styles, they're in cahoots!"

Wu Zhu wasn't angry. He bowed slightly and said, "Thank you for your recognition, sir. I appreciate the praise."

"Go! Go somewhere far away!"

>