My era, 1979!

Chapter 165 Only One Place Can Repay Spring's Light

Zou Shifang held Xu Chengjun's "The Unopened Window" in "The Wave": "He not only dared to write, but he also knew how to write. You can say that he is good at writing novels, but when he writes a poem, he doesn't shout slogans. He uses a window to write about choices. Compared with the poems we published before that 'praise the May Fourth Movement,' it has an extra layer that allows readers to empathize."

Xu Chengjun's poem "The Unopened Window" leans towards modern lyric poetry in terms of genre.

It uses everyday imagery to convey abstract thoughts, emphasizing the natural flow of emotions and the symbolic expression of imagery.

Two people are experts at writing this kind of everyday philosophical reflection.

Frodeit and Hai Zi.

Liu Zhenyun: "I've digressed, but the poem is indeed excellent. The one titled 'I Like Living This Way—Compassionately and Without Desire' really resonates with me."

Cha Jianying: "Comrade Zhenyun, have you betrayed us and turned against us?"

Liu Zhenyun laughed: "How is this considered betrayal? Putting aside 'The Wave,' who hasn't been a fan of Xu Chengjun's poetry and novels?"

There was a pause.

"Back then, how many young people were inspired by 'Walking Towards the Light' and the inspirational essays for the college entrance examination? Weren't we all among them?"

As Zhenyun finished speaking, the noise in the room grew quieter.

How did Fudan University produce such a prodigy?

Without Xu Chengjun, "The Wave" is nothing to worry about; the entire Chinese department of Southern University is not even half a leg stronger than the Chinese department of Peking University.

But Xu Chengjun alone is suffocating them!

It's bad enough that I can't breathe!
There were a bunch of fans sitting there?
Let the bullets fly a little longer?
"Actually, Xu Chengjun is also one aspect. You can see that their selection of materials is very broad and the content is very in-depth."

Zou Shifang paused, flipped to Lin Yimin's "2023" included in "The Wave," and frowned even more: "There's also science fiction. Our 'Weiming Lake' magazine mostly discusses 'how to inherit Lu Xun's writing style,' but they directly brought the 'time loop' into the campus magazine, and even the poems of Neruda translated by foreign language students have translator's notes—what do you think of this vision?"

"What's the use of being wide?"

Zhao Li, a Chinese literature student from the class of '77 who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up, clutching the list of submissions to "Weiming Lake" in his hand.

"We have Mr. Shen's inaugural address, the old foundation of the May Fourth Literary Society, and the number of submissions from within the university has far exceeded expectations. Last week, we even received a letter from a student at Beijing Normal University who said they wanted to publish a journal with us."

Fudan University is merely riding on Xu Chengjun's fame. Once this buzz dies down, who will remember "The Wave"?

“Comrade Zhao Li, if you have this kind of thinking, then our ‘Weiming Lake’ will really fall behind the pace of ‘The Wave’.”

Liu Zhenyun shook his head: "Wu Fangyun said that 'The Wave' has spread to universities in the south, and students from Tongji University and Jiaotong University are looking for photocopies."

Xu Chengjun's three poems are now being circulated among students in Shanghai, and even in southern Jiangsu and Anhui—does our "Weiming Lake" journal have this kind of reach, aside from within the university and a few surrounding schools?

Cha Jianying tapped the table lightly, her gaze sweeping over everyone: "Don't just talk nonsense. The challenge of 'The Wave' isn't its grand scale, but that it has accurately grasped the current trend."

People want to see both traditional roots and new ideas. It's right for our *Weiminghu* magazine to uphold the May Fourth tradition, but we can't always focus on campus matters. Shouldn't we also try, like Xu Chengjun, to connect campus literature with the outside literary world?

Zou Shifang nodded in agreement: "I went to the department last week and heard Mr. Wang Yao say that many young writers are now paying attention to the question of 'how to integrate Chinese and foreign literature.' Xu ​​Chengjun just put this topic into the campus magazine first."

If we keep publishing articles like "Remembering the Years of Educated Youth" and "Praising Weiming Lake," it won't be long before the students are chasing after "The Wave."

As the sun gradually set, the light in the activity room dimmed.

Liu Zhenyun placed "The Wave" and "Weiming Lake" side by side on the table, their covers facing each other in the dim light.

One book is fiery red, brimming with the sharp edge of breaking new ground; the other is calm and composed black, upholding the weight of tradition.

"We'll have a team meeting next week to discuss this thoroughly."

Liu Zhenyun picked up his pen and wrote in his notebook, “Responses to ‘The Wave’: 1. Invite manuscripts from off-campus writers 2. Add a ‘Dialogue between Chinese and Foreign Literature’ column.” The sound of the pen tip gliding across the paper was particularly clear in the quiet activity room.

"We can't let the campus magazines from the south beat us to the punch. It's time for the waters of Weiming Lake to start rippling again."

Increasing submissions from off-campus writers is something that "Weiming Lake" was doing in its previous form.

Bei Dao and Shi Tiesheng were among those who developed close ties with Peking University during this period.

In the late 70s and early 80s, Peking University's Chinese Department and related fields experienced a surge in talent.

Many well-known writers graduated from Peking University during this period.

For example, sea purple.

As the meeting was drawing to a close, Liu Zhenyun slammed his fist on the table: "Weiminghu cannot be a fan of Xu Chengjun's poetry and books! We must wage war against Langchao!"

Seeing how excited he was, Cha Jianying chimed in, "Weiming Lake embodies our hard work, and Peking University is a hall of fame for Chinese literature. We cannot admit defeat!"

For a time, everyone was united and full of energy, which greatly boosted the morale of the May Fourth Literary Society members!

While tidying up the table.

Zou Shifang had no idea what Liu Zhenyun was writing.

I went up and secretly took a peek.

When I saw it clearly, I was shocked!
Hey!
Director!
You're just starting a war like this?!

Then I saw Liu Zhenyun writing a poetry review—

What's most touching about the poem "I Like to Live So Calmly and Without Demands" is that it expresses acceptance and love for life effortlessly.

Without dramatic emotional highs and lows, without profound philosophical pronouncements, it uses natural surrender as its starting point, and the everyday scenes of "small town, encounters, and partings" as its foundation, ultimately settling on an attitude of "living with equanimity and growing with enthusiasm." It's like a mirror, reflecting everyone's yearning for "peace and steadfastness," and like a gentle reminder: learning to "surrender" is, in essence, learning to be gentle with the world and with oneself.

Liu Zhenyun looked up and stared sharply at Zou Shifang.

I was so scared I twitched.

He chuckled awkwardly, "Would you believe me if I said I was criticizing you?"

"die!"

"Liu Zhenyun has betrayed the organization!"

"Brother! Keep your voice down! Keep your voice down!"
-
In November, Beijing is already ablaze with red leaves after the first frost, picturesque green mountains, and wild geese flying south.

In his poem "Red Leaves," Emperor Xuanzong of Ming, Zhu Zhanji, used only four lines: "Red leaves dance like crimson petals after the frost, green mountains are like a painting before my horse. Wild geese fly south, autumn fills the sky, a thousand forests of red leaves are bright and fresh."

It fully showcases the magnificent scenery of late autumn in Beijing.

The peony flowers in courtyard No. 13 of Houyuanen Temple have all fallen.

Old Shen sat in the rattan chair in his study, stroking the letter sent by Ba Jin.

After making the phone call, Ba Jin mailed Xu Chengjun's "The Wave" and all his other works to him.

The handwriting in the letter, “Fudan University has a young man named Xu Chengjun, who runs ‘The Wave’ like holding a torch against the wind, fearing that it will be met with frost and snow,” is so powerful that it seems to penetrate the paper. On the inaugural issue of “The Wave”, which is spread out on the corner of the table, the words “preserving the roots is not being conservative” circled in red pen subtly echo his views when he revamped “Fiction Monthly” in his early years.

When Chen Xiaoman, the assistant, brought in warm water, she saw the old man pondering over the magazine title: "Ba Lao's recommendations are never unfounded. This child has a sharp edge."

Chen Xiaoman had heard of Xu Chengjun before, and the inaugural issue of "Qingming" was personally written by Shen Lao.

She knew that this old man had always been willing to mentor young writers with the potential to follow the right path.

This time is likely to be no exception.

She gently put down the water glass and then stood guard to the side.

At that time, the Fourth National Congress of Literary and Art Circles had just concluded, and the lingering influence of Mr. Shen as the honorary chairman of the Federation of Literary and Art Circles was still resonating in the literary and art circles.

Instead of immediately writing a letter, he first had Xiaoman dial the phone number of the editorial department of the "Literary Gazette".

"Next week's 'New Voices in Literature and Art' column will include an additional article titled 'The Roots and Flow of Campus Literature'."

Although his voice was slow on the phone, his instructions were clear: "Don't mention the name 'The Wave,' just talk about 'critical inheritance and open learning.' Take Tolstoy's epic style as an example, but don't lose the essence of the common people in 'Water Margin.' Use the example of how 'Midnight' combined 'Capital' with late Qing Dynasty business notes to make everyone understand that 'preserving the roots' is not 'closing off.'"

He knew all too well that this publication, which he had founded, could calibrate the literary world's direction with a single comment, which was more powerful than direct rebuttal.

Three days later, the editor-in-chief of the arts and literature section of the Shanghai-based Wenhui Daily received a note from Mao Dun, forwarded through a third party. The note contained only a few words: "Recently, while reading a new campus publication, I came across a discussion among young people about 'openness,' with the argument that 'true openness lies in not pandering to foreign powers.' This resonates with our generation's thinking when translating Eastern European literature: 'borrowing a mirror rather than reflecting upon it.' Perhaps we could invite gentlemen like Ru Zhijuan and Wang Yuanhua to have a written discussion on 'tradition and modernity.'"

Looking at the signature "Yan Bing" at the end of the letter, the editor-in-chief recalled that when this old man was in charge of "Fiction Monthly", he built a bridge for dialogue between Chinese and foreign literature with the special issue of "Literature of Damaged Ethnic Groups". He immediately understood that this was to open up a buffer zone for public opinion for "The Wave".

Soon after, the Wenhui Daily launched a column called "Pen Talk," which indeed led the individual attacks on Xu Chengjun to a rational discussion on "how to establish the subjectivity of Chinese literature."

At the same time, Mao Dun wrote a personal letter to the Youth League Committee of Fudan University.

The letter did not directly mention Xu Chengjun, but instead began by talking about the inheritance of the May Fourth Movement's literary tradition, recalling the literary atmosphere when he audited classes at Peking University in 1920. He concluded by writing: "Now I see a journal on campus that carries on the true spirit of the May Fourth Movement and advocates 'taking truth as the trend.' It should give young people space to learn from each other, rather than shackles of harsh criticism."

He specifically copied the letter to the Arts and Literature Department of the Ministry of Education.

As a cultural leader who once promoted the distribution of the "Rural Literature Reading Series" to rural areas, he clearly understood that official endorsement was the most effective shield against unfounded accusations, protecting the survival space of "The Wave" while not violating Xu Chengjun's original intention of "establishing himself through his works." Late November in Shanghai.

The literary sections of several mainstream newspapers have become battlegrounds for supporting Xu Chengjun.

By this time, Xu Chengjun had already established a certain status and influence in Shanghai's literary scene.

Everyone knows that he has Fudan University backing him.

Furthermore, the inaugural issue of the Anhui literary journal "Qingming" speaks volumes.

Even in the national literary world, there were national newspapers such as Harvest, Shanghai Literature and Art, and Liberation Daily that were on his side.

The front page of the arts and literature section of the Liberation Daily featured Ru Zhijuan’s article, “Only those who uphold the roots dare to innovate: On Xu Chengjun and ‘The Wave’.”

The article begins by directly addressing the unfounded criticisms of "The Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons": "To praise Cheng Jun as 'sticking to old ways' is to fail to understand the 'roots' in his writing—Huang Siyuan's wooden comb in 'Red Silk' and Chunlan's floral fabric in 'The Dressing Mirror', aren't they all 'modern narratives' imbued with the earthy spirit of China? What he rejects is not Western literature, but the 'empty shell' of those who have lost themselves in trying to learn from the West."

In the article, Ru Zhijuan specifically mentioned Xu Chengjun's "The Unopened Window" in the inaugural issue of "The Wave": "'But I chose another window,' this window is not a closed wall, but a 'literary window' that is close to the daily life of China."

Compared to some works that imitate Márquez but only scratch the surface of 'magical realism,' the 'truth' in *The Wave* is what Chinese campus literature should truly be like.

On the same day, the supplement of Wenhui Daily published a short commentary by Wang Yuanhua entitled “Cultural Confidence is Not Populism”.

This scholar, known for his "critical thinking," refuted the rumors from a theoretical perspective: "The dialogue between Xu Chengjun and Grass is essentially an adherence to 'cultural subjectivity'—when we learn from the West, we should 'borrow' rather than 'kneel', just as Lu Xun translated Nietzsche and Mao Dun translated Zola. The value of 'The Wave' lies in its proof that the modernity of Chinese literature can grow from tradition and does not need to rely on 'Westernization' as a facade."

Xu Chengjun was also surprised when he saw the article.

When I discussed it with Günter at the time, his attitude was not clear.

Sometimes a person's stance and position are not determined by a single factor.

I still need to learn more from my instructors.

To Li Xiaolin's astonishment...

The editorial department of "Shanghai Literature" has also joined forces with writers such as Luo Luo and Li Ziyun to launch a special feature on "The Roots and Development of Campus Literature".

Sister Ru, is it really necessary for you to steal my manuscript?
Drawing on his experience translating Rilke, Rollo wrote: “When I translated ‘Hold on, it means everything,’ I never dared to lose the rhythm of the Chinese language; when Xu Chengjun wrote ‘The Pure Me,’ he never dared to lose the Chinese mindset. This is not ‘refusing to communicate,’ but rather a reverence for literature.”

Li Ziyun then shared reader data for "The Wave": "The inaugural issue of 3000 copies sold out in a week, and letters from other schools requesting to purchase the magazine piled up to half a foot high—the readers' choice is more powerful than any criticism."

Even the usually low-profile veteran writer Shi Zhecun wrote a short article in the "Random Thoughts Under the Lamp" column of Xinmin Evening News: "Seeing Fudan University's youth running a magazine, daring to talk about 'preserving roots' and daring to reject 'blind obedience,' I am reminded of the spirit we had when we started New Youth during the May Fourth Movement. I think I see backbone in Xu Chengjun's generation."

Until the end of the month.

The literary scene in Shanghai is abuzz with discussions about Xu Chengjun and "The Wave".

It can be either praise or criticism.

Sometimes praising, sometimes guessing.

However, the overall wind direction has basically stabilized.

after all.

If you want to be a pioneer, a free spirit, a game-changer, then you must go through all of this.

Most people who engage in literary creation rely on talent and keen insight.

They also don't have as many influential people supporting them as Xu Chengjun.

Many of those who excel in literature are graduates of Chinese literature departments.

Shen Congwen, Su Tong, Liu Zhenyun, and even J.K. Rowling are examples.

But that's the problem. Sometimes, avant-garde ideas, blatant criticism, bizarre structures, and interdisciplinary synesthesia can help writers reach the top.

People majoring in Chinese literature or comparative literature either don't use it, or they disdain using it, or they dare not use it.

Even for ordinary writers, once they understand too much, their writing loses the naivety they had in their early years.

Take Wang Shuo for example.

While working, he was able to create "Ferocious Animals".

This kind of thing, which seems completely haphazard to professionals, will lose its innate roguishness as he gets older and learns more.

It has transformed from something attractive into something else entirely.

The same applies to achieving top-tier status in literature, art, and even science. Youth lasts only a few years, and the rebellious phase is very short. Sometimes, the most important book a writer writes in their lifetime is drafted between the ages of 17 and 25. After that, you can only go into teaching.

But Xu Chengjun is different.

He broke through the impasse not because of talent, but because of his insight.

To be honest, he's a mediocre creator with no real talent.
-
The last weekend of November.

In the main room of Zhu Dongrun's house, the scent of sandalwood and the fragrance of old books and ink mingled together, and the old man was sitting in a rattan chair flipping through "Anthology of the Eight Great Masters of the Tang and Song Dynasties".

Xu Chengjun helped organize the proofreading notes on the desk.

At that moment, the family suddenly received a registered letter from the capital.

When Xu Chengjun helped the old man open the letter, he saw that the two characters "Contradiction" on the envelope were written in a deep and powerful hand. Inside was a yellowed title page of a 1921 bound volume of "Fiction Monthly," on the back of which was written: "When we were publishing the magazine, we were also criticized for being 'unorthodox,' but the readers' hearts are the most fair. Your 'The Wave' is rooted in the campus and its strength lies in its sincerity. Why should you fear rumors? If you need theoretical support, you can send your manuscript to 'Literary Review' and mention my name."

Several references were listed on the attached note.

The chapters on "Chinese Realist Tradition" in "Random Notes on Night Reading" and the viewpoint of "inheritance rather than deification" in "On Lu Xun" even have page numbers marked.

Huang Lin and Zhang Peiheng happened to be visiting. Seeing Xu Chengjun staring blankly at the title page, they came over and laughed: "Shen Gong has built two bridges for you! One is a bridge of reason in academia, and the other is a buffer bridge for public opinion."

This scene is not uncommon.

The old gentleman would invite his students to his home for a small gathering every two weeks.

They're getting on in years.

I enjoy rambling on and on, and I especially enjoy listening to these students tell their stories.

Or perhaps it's because he's a closed-door disciple.

Mr. Zhu was exceptionally supportive of Xu Chengjun and also particularly fond of him.

The youngest son among the disciples!

"Chengjun, don't try to tough it out!"

Huang Lin placed the newspaper on the small table, his tone showing concern, "I've discussed it with the department. We can ask the staff at the camera stations who were present at the time to co-sign a clarification article, clearly outlining your conversation with Glass, and then publish it in the Fudan Journal to dispel the rumors."

Zhang Peiheng nodded in agreement and pointed outside the door: "I've already had the student council remove those anonymous posters on campus."

Secretary Qi of the school's Youth League Committee also said that if anyone spreads rumors again, they will be dealt with according to school rules. Don't worry, Fudan University will not allow its students to be wronged.

look.

When it really matters, your own family is the most reliable.

Xu Chengjun stopped what he was doing, smiled, and handed the two of them warm tea. The dents on the rim of the rough porcelain cups revealed the passage of time.

"Thank you both in advance!"

His tone was calm yet resolute: "There's no need to rush to refute it. What stands the test of time is never something that can be 'protected' by others."

Whether the words in "The Wave" are memorable, and whether the stories in "Red Silk" evoke empathy, readers know the answer.
Those rumors that I'm "stuck in my ways" have neither touched my work nor understood my thoughts; they're as fragile as the wind and will dissipate quickly enough. Why bother refuting them?

Huang Lin wanted to say more.

Xu Chengjun waved his hand gently: "The current situation is actually quite good."

Some supported me, letting me know that I hadn't gone astray by adhering to the right path; some questioned me, which made me dare not slack off; and some were waiting to see me fail, which made me even more determined to run "The Wave" well.

Just like wheat in a field, it needs to weather some wind and rain to reveal which ears are full; just like a stream, it needs to encounter a few stones to know which section has the clearest water.

He paused, then looked at Zhu Dongrun in the rattan chair. The old man was nodding with a smile, his eyes full of approval.

An elderly person looks after a young child.

The more I look, the more I like it.

Like me!

(End of this chapter)