My era, 1979!

Chapter 73 Love need not be spoken aloud, suffering need not be proclaimed.

On July 25, after being recommended by Zhu Dongrun, the article was published in the Chaohua supplement of the Liberation Daily within 72 hours.

In 1979, during the wave of educated youth returning to the cities, the supplement was planning a column called "Youth in the Countryside." The article about Ah Xiu's forbearance and the resilience of the wild rose perfectly matched the theme of "hope in hardship."

Qin Shaode, then deputy editor-in-chief, promoted a "short, quick, and efficient" review process, allowing manuscripts on the theme of educated youth to go through an "expedited channel."

In addition, there was a recommendation from my supervisor.
Um.
It was mainly recommended by my supervisor!
So why did Xu Chengjun want to join a sect to cultivate immortality?
You don't have to be part of the Taoist community, but you need to have one.

Embrace virtue and integrity, and uphold exemplary words and deeds!

A gentleman is not a vessel, but rather inclusive and not partisan!
Encourage it!

After this short article was published.

It once had a wide influence in the country, and various literary reviews came one after another.

among them,

Wang Shuizhao, a professor in the Chinese Department of Fudan University, published a literary review article entitled "The Profound Echoes of 'Where Wild Roses Grow Is My Hometown'" in the commentary section of the Fudan Journal, which sparked a wave of reflection.

He wrote:
"This article uses the perspective of educated youth as its needle and the wild roses of Xujiatun as its thread to embroider a long scroll of rural life about suffering, resilience and hope in the long river of time from 1977 to 1978. Its connotation is far more profound than the surface of the text."

The article is rooted in the rural society on the eve of reform and opening up, and every word is imbued with the warmth of the era. The labor force mobilized for reservoir construction, the notification of martyrs "sacrificed in the line of duty," and the team leader's heavy footsteps—these details outline the collective memory of that special era. Individual fates are often swept along by the torrent of the times; Zhu Ge's sacrifice and A Xiu's forbearance are microcosms of ordinary people in a great era. But the article doesn't stop at merely displaying suffering; it also conceals the undercurrent of change.

The scenes of the team leader shouting for fertilizer application during the Qingming Festival in 1978, the appearance of the carpenter, and Ah Xiu returning with her child—these details hint at a shift in the times, a loosening of the old order and a return to the warmth of everyday life. Like wild roses sprouting on frozen ground, they hold subtle signals of social transformation.

The imagery of wild roses runs throughout the text, becoming the key to understanding the theme: the brambles are the thorns of life—Zhu Ge's sacrifice, A Xiu's grief over losing her loved ones, and the oppression of a special era; the new shoots are undying hope—A Xiu's persistence in counting the shoots, her peace after remarrying and having children, and the wild roses that sprout new branches year after year. This dialectic of "brambles and new shoots" is precisely a portrayal of the vitality of ordinary people.

Ah Xiu's character is particularly moving. She doesn't cry out in anguish, but uses silent actions like "counting new buds," "touching flower petals," and "placing new buds on her chest" to transform the pain of losing a loved one into a steadfast commitment to life. This kind of "sorrow without grief" is not numbness, but the most basic survival philosophy of rural society: the hard times will pass, just like roots that can't be frozen will always sprout new sweetness.

The article uses numerous realistic details to deconstruct the emotional logic of rural society. Brother Zhu quietly spreading sweet potato vines, Axiu staying up late to sew cloth shoes, Aunt Zhang chatting with Axiu about everyday life—these unadorned daily routines reveal the Chinese people's implicit love: love doesn't need to be spoken, care doesn't need to be publicized, and suffering doesn't need to be proclaimed.

Wild roses, as a vessel of emotion, have witnessed the budding of love, the occurrence of tragedy, and the continuation of life. They are no longer just ordinary plants, but have become an "emotional totem" of rural society, carrying unspoken longing, lingering pain, and unextinguished hope.

The humanistic articles in the literature break away from the common "accusation" or "nostalgia" clichés of educated youth literature, and gaze at the land and the people from an equal perspective. There is no exaggeration of suffering, nor is there any beautification of the countryside. It simply records the focus of Ah Xiu counting the buds, the frost on the thorns of the wild rose, and the new buds on the frozen soil. Yet, it is in the ordinary that strength is revealed.

This style of writing, which "reveales the spirit in the details," not only inherits Shen Congwen's tradition of "rural narratives" but also incorporates respect for the value of ordinary people. Ah Xiu is not a tragic symbol, but an individual life growing amidst suffering; the wild rose is not an ornament, but a natural metaphor resonating with humanity. Ultimately, it points to a celebration of the philosophy of "endless life": no matter how times change, the land and the human heart will always nurture new hope.

The wild roses continued to grow in the twilight, like the unfinished story in the article. Suffering leaves its mark, but hope is always more resilient than thorns. This is precisely the most moving echo of the article: life may be full of thorns, but there are always new buds, striving towards the sunlight through the cracks.

At this time, the storm surrounding Xu Chengjun had only just begun.

afternoon of the interview
Office of the Head of the Chinese Department.

"sit."

Zhu Dongrun pointed to the wooden stool and sat down on the rattan chair opposite him first.

As soon as Xu Chengjun sat down, Zhang Peiheng placed the manuscript of his thesis on the table.

"Don't be too happy yet, Chengjun."

Zhang Peiheng's black-rimmed glasses reflected the setting sun. "The decision to grant him a master's degree through special admission is finalized, but getting this paper published in an academic journal will be a real challenge."

Old Zhang's expression was amused.

"So you want to be my junior brother?" Zhu Dongrun slowly sipped his tea and pointed to the literature review page: "The Wenxin Diaolong only quotes Huang Kan's annotated version. Why did you omit Fan Wenlan's commentary on the Wenxin Diaolong? And the comparison between Liu Xie and Western formalism was not mentioned at all."

hey guess what?

I can't find it!
However, he did cut corners on textual research in order to meet the deadline.

"Professor Zhu, Professor Zhang, we simply didn't have enough bibliography to refer to when writing this paper, and the conditions were quite poor when we were sent to the countryside."

"Just call me teacher!"

"Teacher Zhu, Teacher Zhang"

Zhu Dongrun laughed: "Just call him senior brother. Even though he's mentoring you, he's still my student!"

"Senior Brother Zhangzhang?"

It's actually quite catchy, don't you think?

Don’t say that!

Zhu Dongrun watched with a smile, while Zhang Peiheng stood to the side with a dark face. At Zhu Lao's age, Xu Chengjun was most likely his last student, or even his closed-door disciple. For an old intellectual like him, what he valued was not only teaching and nurturing people, but also the inheritance of his ideals.

Xu Chengjun happened to be such a talented student.

Students who can carry on the legacy of the school's philosophy.

Old Zhu was mild-mannered, but Zhang Peiheng was finding fault with him.

"It's not about piling up a bunch of references."

"You criticize others for rigidly applying Western theories, yet you yourself haven't even cited Wellek's 'Theory of Literature.' Isn't that a contradiction?"

"Three days." Zhang Peiheng suddenly stood up. "Submit the revised draft in three days. The literature review should include at least twenty core references."

Xu Chengjun agreed.

Is it difficult?

It's not difficult, is it?

I eat apples by the pound, like Newton's mentor.

Zhang Peiheng slipped a note into Xu Chengjun's hand, which listed a string of document titles: "Go to the archives tomorrow and find these books. The librarian, Old Zhang, will give you the green light."

Who can say this wasn't a well-intentioned effort?

"The Fudan Journal is published bimonthly." Zhu Dongrun's voice was much gentler. "If your paper and literature are convincing, I'll give you a front-page spot."

Fudan Journal?

And it's on the front page?
How can you not join this sect?

Let me introduce you. Walking towards you is Mr. Zhu Dongrun, one of the top three editors of the Fudan Journal!
My advisor!
(End of this chapter)