Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

Chapter 85 Liang Juchuan's Suicide (Part 1)

November 9th, evening.

Dark, heavy clouds blanketed the entire city of Yanjing, and although a gentle breeze was blowing, it still made people feel suffocated.

The willows around Jingye Lake have long since lost their leaves, their bare branches pointing straight up to the sky, like countless hands trying to touch the void.

The oppressive atmosphere, like a storm brewing, did not disturb the Liang residence in Waiyingzi Hutong.

The charcoal fire burned brightly in the courtyard, the coals crackling and popping, dispelling the chill of early winter.

"Come and get me!"

"Don't run away!"

"Can't catch it, hee hee hee..."

"

In a few days it will be Liang Ji's sixtieth birthday. His children, grandchildren and younger generations have all arrived. The adults are preparing a banquet, while the children are running around outside the courtyard, laughing and having a great time.

Today, Liang Ji changed into a brand-new scholar's robe and sat in the living room, smiling broadly at his children and grandchildren. The wrinkles on his face smoothed out, and each one was filled with relaxed joy.

Liang Huannai, the eldest son who grew up under strict education, held an important position as a railway official after returning from studying abroad. He brought his wife and daughter all the way from Qingdao to celebrate his birthday.

The second son, Liang Shouming, who has achieved academic success, is now a professor at Yenching University. Although he studies Buddhist philosophy, the youthful confusion in his eyes has faded, replaced by the composure and calmness of a lecturer on the stage.

Married daughters also bring their families back to their parents' home.

May your home be peaceful and your descendants prosperous and virtuous.

Isn't this exactly the kind of old age that Confucian scholars and officials longed for?

The dishes and drinks were served quickly, and the children stopped playing and stood properly by the table, looking at their grandfather whom they rarely saw. They wanted to approach him but dared not because they were afraid of being scolded.

As his children gradually took their seats, Liang Ji scanned each face, determined to deeply etch this rare moment of family bliss into his heart.

"Father, let me offer you a toast first."

"Not only for your birthday in a few days, but also for the integrity you have upheld throughout your life. Everything is well at home, so you can rest assured and enjoy your retirement."

Liang Huannai was the first to stand up and raise his glass, his voice calm.

"well..

'

Liang Ji, who doesn't drink alcohol, smiled and raised his cup with his eldest son, drinking the wine in one gulp.

After his father finished his drink, Liang Shouming immediately poured himself another cup and raised it in a toast as well.

The atmosphere at the dinner table immediately became lively, and the initial awkwardness disappeared.

Brothers and sisters who hadn't seen each other for a long time began to share their careers and experiences; children and grandchildren gathered around their grandfather, vying to report on the latest happenings at school.

The child's innocent words often made Liang Ji laugh heartily.

"Studying should instill manners and a sense of shame. There are things in this world more important than passing the imperial examinations, do you understand?"

"Okay, Grandpa!"

"Okay, my dear granddaughter, here, Grandpa will give you a red envelope."

Despite his children's objections, Liang Ji insisted on taking out his royalties and generously dividing them equally among each of them.

How could he not be satisfied with such a sight?

In addition to feeling satisfied, the huge rock that had been pressing on my heart since the Xinhai Revolution began to gradually loosen.

The women were engrossed in their conversation and seemed oblivious to his surroundings, so he could only silently drink his sorrows away.

After drinking too much, he got carried away and pulled his children and grandchildren aside, saying to himself, "Grandpa's father died early, and I was raised by your great-grandmother from a young age. I lived with my uncle and studied harder than anyone else. If I didn't study hard, your great-grandmother would beat me with a stick."

The children all asked in unison, "Does it hurt?"

Liang Ji chuckled, turned to look at the plaque on the altar, and murmured to himself, "I can't remember very well, it's been a long time since anyone hit me... Your great-grandmother has been gone for a long time, I can't even remember what she looked like... Grandpa misses her very much..."

Two lines of clear tears slid down her chin and landed with a "plop" on the ground, unnoticed by anyone.

As people get older, they become more sentimental.

"Grandpa, and then what?"

The children chattered excitedly, urging them on.

Liang Ji wiped away his tears without leaving a trace and continued with a smile, "Grandpa was useless. He was stupid and only passed the imperial examination. His family was poor, so he could only teach at a private school to earn money while taking the exam. No matter what he did, he couldn't pass the exam anymore."

"If you can't pass the exam, just give up and become an official. Back then, I saw too many people who were just indulging in books, with outdated ideas, and who were of no benefit to the country or the people. Guess what I did?"

The children were very curious about their elders and clung to their legs, begging them to tell them quickly.

Liang Ji downed another glass of wine and drifted into memories: "I went to the Education Bureau as the chief committee member, to resettle the poor, establish primary schools, and teach those children who couldn't afford to go to school... They were about your age, I taught them to read and do math, and taught them trades..."

"Later, I felt that this alone was not enough to save the country, so I supported constitutionalism to save the country. Together with your Grandpa Peng, we founded the vernacular newspaper. Have you read The Story of Xiangzi and Bao Guowei? They were published in our newspaper."

When the children heard about Xiangzi and Bao Guowei, their eyes lit up and their faces showed admiration. They all praised their grandfather for being so amazing.

Liang Ji picked up a piece of pig's ear with his chopsticks and chewed it hastily: "It's not that Grandpa is amazing, Grandpa just publishes amazing novels for everyone to see."

"I don't care, Grandpa is still amazing!"

The children insisted on this belief.

Liang Ji couldn't change what the children thought, and the more he talked, the clearer his mind became. He looked back without regret: "Later, the Xinhai Revolution still happened, so I resigned from my post and retired. They invited me to take up an official post, but I didn't want to go."

"I went to associate with ordinary people, and guess what I saw?"

Before the children could respond, he asked and answered himself: "The North and South are divided, and the people are suffering."

"The people are restless, the officials are corrupt, the soldiers are unjust, the treasury is wasteful, and the imperial abdication is a mere formality."

"If the national character is lost, what use is my life?"

He spoke these words in an extremely sorrowful tone, almost as a growl.

The children were terrified, trembling and too afraid to speak.

The red candles enshrined in the central hall flickered, and the living room fell into an eerie silence for a moment.

The adults who were talking finally noticed something was wrong and stopped to ask the father if he was drunk.

"It's okay, I'm fine."

Liang Ji refused the request to return to his room to rest and stood up to walk into the courtyard.

The sky was as dark as ink, and the wind howled.

He gazed into the darkness for a long time, then suddenly turned his head and smiled, "As I get older, I become nostalgic. I'm thinking of some old friends I haven't seen for years. I want to do what I did when I was young and go out to visit them for a few days. Maybe I'll take a walk in the Western Hills."

His tone was relaxed, with a touch of willful nostalgia.

Liang Shouming sensed something was amiss and advised, "Father, your birthday is approaching. It's not too late to visit your friends later. I'll take you then."

"I want to follow the example of the ancients, avoid my birthday to contemplate in peace, and also to catch up with old friends."

Liang Ji's smile remained kind, but his tone was unequivocal.

Ignoring the group's attempts to stop him, he retrieved the bamboo basket from his room, a basket that had been with him since his school days and for half his life. He gently placed his clothes, inkstone, and brush inside, his movements slow, his fingertips tracing the broken edges of the basket as if touching the past.

Finally, he took out an oil paper package and put it inside as well.

He shouldered his bamboo basket, his figure carrying the loneliness of a young scholar embarking on a long journey, and walked out of the courtyard.

The bamboo basket was woven by my mother before she passed away. Even though it has been damaged over the years, I have always kept it with me and couldn't bear to throw it away.

Liang Shouming was somewhat afraid that his father would act recklessly, so he tentatively asked, "Father, are you really going to see an old friend?"

As Liang Ji walked outside the door, he turned around upon hearing the sound, his gaze passing over his family members and looking towards the hall, where he stared intently at the ancestral tablet.

Then he nodded, his gaze calm and composed, full of nonchalance: "It's chilly outside, let's go back. I'll be right back."

Then he turned around and stepped into the heavy night.