My era, 1979!

Chapter 2: Getting into Fudan University Without Taking the College Entrance Examination
The paper and pen that Xinghua brought were wrapped in cloth, and a faint scent of grass and wood wafted out when the rope was untied.

The straw paper was leftover from the production team's work point system; it was yellowish and rough, but thick.

The pencil was sent to her by her brother from the army, and it was printed with the words "Serve the People".

This is a luxury even in the brigade!
What surprised Xu Chengjun the most was that Xinghua also brought a palm-sized stone slab and half a piece of chalk.

These are for the village children to write on; they're more durable than straw paper and perfect for jotting down occasional flashes of inspiration.
“My mother says you love writing.”

Xinghua blushed and stuffed the cloth bag into his hand, the red ribbon at the end of her braid swaying.

“The slate can be written on repeatedly, saving paper.”

Xu Chengjun held the cold stone slab, feeling a warm glow in his heart.

Having witnessed countless social interactions in the mailroom of an official government office in my past life, this simple act of care feels more reassuring than any gift.

He placed the slate at his feet and tucked the pencil behind his ear: "Please thank your aunt for me; this gift is too precious."

He must remember this kindness.

Wang Laosi's loud voice rang out from outside the courtyard gate: "Xu, you've collected your sickles and sacks! The team just sharpened these sickles; if you're late, only dull ones will be left!"

Under the old locust tree at the entrance of the warehouse, team leader Xu Laoshi was squatting on the stone mill, smoking.

Seeing Xu Chengjun approach, he tapped his pipe against the sole of his shoe and pointed to the burlap sack in the corner.

"This sickle was newly sharpened by the blacksmith at the team's request. It's very sharp, so be careful when you're harvesting wheat and don't cut your hands. Also, that canvas is for spreading out on the threshing floor when drying the wheat, so that the wheat grains don't get mixed with dirt."

Xu Chengjun squatted down and picked up a few stalks of wheat.

Agricultural technological innovation was just beginning in the late 70s, and improved varieties had already begun to be promoted.

Xu Laoshi stuffed a handful of fried soybeans into his hand and turned to face everyone.

"Last year, Xiaogang Village secretly implemented the 'household responsibility system' and planted new wheat. Everyone was eager to harvest and dry the wheat, and the yield per mu doubled! Although our team didn't say it explicitly, we must make full preparations before the wheat harvest. Sharpen the sickles and clean the field. Let's not mess things up!"

Wang Laosi muttered from the side, "What do you mean by 'guaranteed' or 'guaranteed'? As long as we can harvest a few more bags of wheat, that's fine."

He filled the cloth bag with straw rope.

The team distributes tools by headcount to prevent anyone from taking more than their share.

“Xu Zhiqing, you’re highly educated. I heard the county cultural center is recruiting staff to write documents. Why don’t you give it a try?”

Xu Chengjun's heart skipped a beat.

That seems like it's worth a try?

This period coincides with the peak of nearly 1000 million educated youth returning to their hometowns, and is also one of the most difficult periods for finding employment in history.

Having a job is really not easy!

The key is,

The college entrance examination was only reinstated last year. The original owner had a weak foundation and had no intention of taking the exam. His household registration and school records were a complete mess!
He hasn't looked at the college entrance exam material for nearly 20 years, and although it's simple, he probably won't be able to catch up this year.

Cultural centers are relatively quiet these days, so having a quiet place to write something is a good choice, isn't it?
"Uncle Wang, what are the requirements for hiring staff at the cultural center?"

he asked casually.

"You have to be educated, able to write, and recommended by the brigade."

Wang Laosi smiled with his eyes narrowed.

"If you can write a sensational article that catches the eye of the county leaders, you might get a job at the regional newspaper, let alone the cultural center!"

“Xu Zhiqing, I’ve noticed you often write things down; maybe you can do it!”

As the sun climbed to its zenith, the aroma of food wafted through the wheat fields.

Xu Chengjun and Xinghua squatted on the edge of the field to rest for the afternoon. The sweet potato porridge in the enamel mug was steaming hot, and they ate it with pickled radish.

Do not laugh!

It smells so good!
Anyone who's worked a full day and only ate some coarse grains the day before would find this food delicious!
In the distance, Zhao Gang and several commune members were chasing each other. Some of them had brought roasted peanuts from home and were playfully sharing them.

Don't laugh, but let's use an analogy.

Back then, roasted peanuts in the commune were like sharing a can of Coke in a primary school class in 08!
So arrogant!

"Brother Chengjun, do you think people in the city eat white steamed buns every day?"

Xinghua's eyes were bright and sparkling.

In all her life, she had only been to the county town twice, both times accompanying her mother on errands.

The county town is really big, and there are a lot of people, but there's an inexplicable sense of unease there.

"There will definitely be some in the future." Xu Chengjun took a bite of sweet potato; it was sweet.

He knows this better than anyone else.

Not just steamed buns, but also bread and bicycles!
Thinking of the "three-step" strategy in history, telling Xinghua about it would sound like telling a fairy tale.

He dared not speak.

Xinghua probably wouldn't believe it either.

He gazed at the endless wheat fields in the distance, and began to make plans in his mind.

First, you need to write "The Granary" and then find an opportunity to submit it to the county cultural center or a local publication.

With his background in Chinese literature and his grasp of the times, it wouldn't be difficult for him to produce something of note.

As long as the article is selected, it will be easy to get a recommendation from the brigade and enter the cultural center to escape rural life.

We'll look for another opportunity later.

They could either try to get a recommendation to university (some universities still had recommendation quotas in 79), or be temporarily transferred to a region or province.

This path is more reliable than preparing for the college entrance examination now.
That's in line with his style. "What are you thinking about? You're grinning like you've just stolen a chicken."

Zhao Gang came over and handed him a handful of roasted peanuts.

"Want to go catch eels tonight? I'll treat you to mutton soup with the money I get!"

"I'm not going today, I need to write something tonight."

Xu Chengjun put the peanuts in his pocket and waved to Zhao Gang.

"By the way, do you know what kind of temper Liu, the clerk at the county cultural center, has?"

"Officer Liu?"

Zhao Gang scratched his head.

"I heard he loves to drink. Last time he came to the village to do some research, he got drunk and arm wrestled with the team leader. He even cried when he lost!"

Xu Chengjun couldn't help but laugh.

The intellectuals of that era were far more vibrant than the stereotypical figures found in government offices in later generations.

On the way home from work, the setting sun cast long shadows.

Xinghua carried farm tools with him, and the two walked slowly along the grassy ridges of the fields.

The wheat fields rippled in the wind, wisps of smoke rose from distant chimneys, and the barking of dogs echoed in the air. Life was simple and austere, yet it was filled with a sense of grounded liveliness.

"Brother Chengjun, are you really going to write an article and submit it to the county?"

Apricot Blossom kicked at the pebbles.

“My brother said there are newspapers in the army. If your article is published, I’ll have him send it to all parts of the country for you!”

"I'll show you when I finish writing it down."

Xu Chengjun smiled and ruffled her hair.

The original owner was two years older than Xinghua and treated Xinghua like her own younger sister.

Xinghua spoke naively, but the sincerity in her words was truly genuine.

As I passed the fence of the educated youth settlement, Qian Ming was squatting at the door fiddling with a radio.

Amid the crackling of electricity, one could vaguely hear the words "ideological liberation" and "reform pilot."

Upon seeing Xu Chengjun return, he quickly turned the volume down.

"I just heard on the news that Fudan University in Shanghai is recruiting 'worker-peasant-soldier students' through a recommendation system, without any exams!"

Xu Chengjun paused in his steps.

Fudan University?

This era was different from later generations. Although Tsinghua and Peking Universities held a firm position, they were not as unparalleled as they were in later generations.

When it comes to the best schools, 80% of people will say Tsinghua and Peking University, but the remaining 20% ​​will definitely have other opinions.

But when it comes to the best liberal arts universities, those are definitely Peking University, Fudan University, and Renmin University!

Can you get into Fudan University without taking the college entrance exam?

What are the requirements for the recommendation system?

"You need to have made outstanding contributions, and your employer needs to provide a certificate."

Qian Ming pushed up his glasses.

"If you can write an article that will shake the entire province, the brigade might recommend you!"

Should I write a good article?
There's another reason to write a good "Barn".

The evening breeze swept across the wheat field, bringing with it the fragrance of wheat.

As Xu Chengjun gazed at the sunset on the horizon, his thoughts became increasingly clear.

Whether it's working at the cultural center or getting a recommendation from Fudan University, it all comes down to your pen.

He took out the stone slab and, using the last bit of daylight, wrote down the inspiration that came to his mind.

The chalk made a rustling sound as it scribbled across the stone slab.

Lying on his wooden bed at night, Xu Chengjun wrote on straw paper by the light of a kerosene lamp.

He wrote about the protagonist, Xu Chunsheng, discovering his father's diary in a wheat field.

He wrote down the yield data hidden in the paths of the fields, revealing his observations of the land and a secret about "leaving."

Zhao Gang started snoring, and Qian Ming mumbled "Fudan University" in his sleep.

You should just go to sleep at this night in the educated youth settlement!

They both sleep soundly without making a sound!

After writing the last line, Xu Chengjun blew out the oil lamp.

At first, the noise kept me awake.

Later, he was so exhausted that he started snoring, grinding his teeth, and talking in his sleep.
He started snoring too.
Yes, farm work is really tiring!

The moonlight outside the window shone on the stone slabs, giving them a faint white hue in the night.

In any era, it wasn't easy to get into university without taking the college entrance exam.

but!

In this turbulent era, there will always be a way for those who live life earnestly.

(End of this chapter)