A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

Chapter 105 The literature of this era has never ceased.

March 31st, Sunday.

"Four Generations Under One Roof" was released on its third day.

Some people have already finished reading the book, and the Rongshuxia forum is bustling with activity.

"Regarding 'Four Generations Under One Roof,' please create a dedicated discussion thread and do not create duplicate threads."

The main content is very brief:

"Four Generations Under One Roof has been on the market for three days now, and I believe many people have already finished reading it. This book is quite substantial, with over a million words. Finishing it in three days means you've practically devoted all your free time to it. I know many people have something to say, and so do I. So I'm starting this thread for everyone to discuss. Good or bad, like or criticize, you can say whatever you want. The only requirement is: be reasonable and well-founded, and avoid personal attacks. Let's begin."

The first reply appeared at 9:43, with the ID "Deep Sea Fish," a familiar face in the forum.

"I'll go first. I finished reading it yesterday. It took me a day and a half, and I cried twice. The first time was when Qian Moyin was released from prison. The poet became a warrior, and the flowers in the yard became hatred in his heart. When Lin Shubai wrote about Qian Moyin coming out of prison, he used three words—'He changed.' Just three words, without any explanation or embellishment, but when I read that part, my tears just started flowing."

The second instance is when Qi Ruixuan is listening to Japanese military songs in the courtyard. It's not that he lacks backbone; he simply can't leave. The pain of being nailed to the spot by responsibility requires more courage than going to the battlefield.

ID "Night Voyage" replied to Deep Sea Fish:

"I also cried during the Qian Moyin part, but I didn't cry because of his release from prison. It was because after he was released, he saw the ruins of his home, squatted down, picked up a tile, and held it in his hand for a long time."

At 9:58, the user with the ID "Bookworm Aqiang" posted:

"Was Qi Ruixuan a coward? He clearly wanted to leave, but he didn't. He clearly hated the Japanese, but he didn't resist. When I was halfway through reading, I looked down on him a bit and thought he was not as good as his younger brother."

But as I read on, I realized I was wrong. It wasn't that he didn't want to resist; it was that his way of resisting was different. He protected his family in his own way, resisting with silence. In that era, simply living was a form of resistance. Lin Shubai didn't portray anyone as a hero, nor did he portray anyone as a coward.

At 10:23, the user with the ID "Deep Sea Fish" posted another long reply:

"I want to talk about the female character in this book, Yunmei. This character is too easy to overlook. She doesn't have a dramatic transformation like Qian Moyin, nor does she have a strong presence like Da Chibao. She is just Qi Ruixuan's wife, an ordinary housewife."

But when Lin Shubai wrote about her, every detail made my heart ache. For example, she said "I'm not hungry" even though she was hungry, so that her family could eat a little more. For example, she got up in the middle of the night to tuck the elderly in, her movements were so gentle as if she was afraid of disturbing something. For example, she lowered her head in front of the Japanese, but her eyes were hard.

Lin Shu-bai didn't write any long lines for her, but he showed readers that in that era, women's resilience didn't need to be shouted out; it was hidden in the everyday chores and routines.

After noon, the discussion did not subside; on the contrary, it reached new heights due to the voices of several influential figures.

At 2 p.m., writer Su Beiqing posted a message on Weibo. Su Beiqing, 64 years old, has won almost all the major literary awards in China. He is known for writing about rural themes. He is a low-key person and rarely speaks out on social media. His Weibo account has been registered for many years and he has only posted about 30 posts. He does not have many followers, but each post is regarded as a signal.

"I got my hands on 'Four Generations Under One Roof' yesterday, intending to just flip through a few pages, but I ended up reading until the early hours of the morning. How did this sixteen-year-old boy bring Xiaoyangquan Hutong to life? It wasn't based on piling up information, but on his understanding of people. He knew why Old Master Qi hoarded grain, why Ruixuan couldn't leave, and why Qian Moyin went from being a poet to a warrior. This kind of understanding can only be felt with the heart."

At 3 p.m., Zhao Xiaosheng, a writer who has settled overseas, posted a short commentary on his WeChat Moments. Zhao Xiaosheng is 61 years old. He went abroad in the 1990s, writes in English, and has won several important international literary awards. He is more well-known abroad than in China.

"I haven't read many contemporary Chinese novels in recent years. It's not that I don't want to read them, but I can't get into them. Too many works are imitating Western works, and too many authors are writing things that they don't even believe in themselves."

But "Four Generations Under One Roof" is different. It made me smell the flavor of Beiping—not the Beiping in the travel brochures, but the Beiping in the alleys, on the stove, and in the old people's teacups.

Lin Shu-bai didn't use any fancy techniques; he simply told a story honestly. But honesty is the rarest quality these days, and I'd be willing to write a preface for this book if it were published in English.

The screenshot quickly spread on Rongshuxia. Some people replied, "Zhao Xiaosheng is going to help Lin Shubai promote the English version? That's amazing." Others said, "He writes English novels, but this is the first time I've heard of him translating someone else's work." Most people just silently "liked" it, because they knew that Zhao Xiaosheng's recommendation meant that the book might go abroad.

At 4:30 p.m., Qian Xueshen, a critic and professor of Chinese literature at Peking University, posted an article on his rarely updated blog.

"Four Generations Under One Roof is a work that made me rethink the word 'genius'. The first time I read Lin Shubai was his 'A Young China'. That article made me sweat because I thought that kind of patriotism and youthful spirit had disappeared in our time."

The second time I read his work was with "The Little Prince," a book that made me realize that this young man not only had passion but also tenderness. The third time I read his work was with this million-word novel, "Four Generations Under One Roof."

The power of this novel lies in its not rushing to tell you anything. It's like a river, flowing slowly and gradually drawing you in. You start to care about what Qi Ruixuan ate today, whether Yunmei can buy food, and whether Qian Moyin got a good night's sleep. What you care about isn't the plot, but the people.

Someone asked me why a sixteen-year-old boy could write such a work. I would say that this is not a question that can be explained by age. Wang Bo was only sixteen when he wrote "Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng". Talent is a seed. It needs soil, water and time. The reason why Lin Shubai's talent was able to grow into such a work is because he read enough books, thought about enough questions, and was honest with himself enough.

I recommend "Four Generations Under One Roof" to anyone interested in "what makes a good Chinese novel," not to prove how amazing a sixteen-year-old is, but to let you know that literature in this era has not been interrupted.

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