My era, 1979!

Chapter 74 A Refined and Elegant Scholar, Also My Teacher

What is the status of the Fudan Journal?

A bellwether for academia!
The 1979 edition of the *Fudan Journal (Social Sciences Edition)* was undoubtedly the flagship journal of the revival of the humanities in Chinese academia during a special historical turning point.

As comprehensive academic journals sponsored by Fudan University, the *Fudan Journal* and the *Peking University Journal* established a "two giants" structure in 1979.

Qiao Feng of the North, Qiao Feng of the South.
The Social Sciences Edition of the Fudan Journal is published in six issues per year, every two months. After its resumption of publication, it adopted the bimonthly format and has maintained it ever since.

Coincidentally, if all goes well, it should be published in August.

Before even starting school, they've already published articles in top journals!

What level?
Xu Chengjun suddenly looked up.

“Don’t think it’s cheap.” Zhang Peiheng saw through his thoughts. “Front-page articles are subject to scrutiny from the entire academic community. Even a single punctuation error in a document will land you on the pillar of shame.”

"I'll definitely get a thorough check-up, Senior Brother Zhang!"

At this time, it's best to be very polite!
The main problem is that these dates are just too sweet!
Zhang Peiheng smirked. Who taught you this ability to jump on any bandwagon?

Zhu Dongrun took a pen from the pen holder and wrote a line of small characters on the cover of the paper: "Articles must be based on evidence, and arguments must be original."

The pen tip emphasized the words "己出" (jichu) by three points.

"The modern transformation of traditional literary theory is a tough nut to crack."

The old man's gaze remained gentle. "Our generation can no longer handle the challenges; we have to rely on you new shoots. But if these new shoots can't take root in the soil of literature, they'll fall over with a gust of wind."

He then clipped the pen to the paper and handed it directly to Xu Chengjun.

"Here's a pen for you; to write well, first learn to be sincere."

Xu Chengjun glanced at the pen and immediately sensed that it was something special.

Later, Xu Chengjun learned the origin of the pen from Chen Shangjun.

In 1947, when Zhu Dongrun was teaching at the Wuxi National Studies Institute, he used half a year's salary to ask a student to find this Parker Model 51 fountain pen, which was produced in the 1930s, at the Shanghai secondhand market.

Although the pen body is undecorated, the metal cap is engraved with the small character "慎" (shèn, meaning cautious/prudent) – his motto for scholarship.

He used this pen to write the first draft of "The Great Biography of Zhang Juzheng". During the war, he traveled between Shanghai and Nanjing. The pen was cracked by the gunfire, but the ink never stopped.

They also learned the meaning behind Zhu Dongrun's gift of the pen:
His writing never ceases, his life continues.

At this time, Xu Chengjun was unaware of the significance and story behind this fountain pen.

However, judging from Zhu Dongrun's solemn expression and Zhang Peiheng's unnatural expression, it was clear that this pen was extraordinary.

Therefore, he naturally declined.

"Teacher, it's already a blessing that you've accepted me as your student. I'm so unworthy of such a privilege."

"Take it," Old Zhu said, his eyes filled with encouragement.

"Take it, Chengjun. Don't let your teacher's efforts go to waste."

Zhang Peiheng stood up and patted Xu Chengjun on the shoulder, his eyes filled with encouragement.

His feelings for Xu Chengjun were rather complicated.

Initial disdain, then amazement during the interview, and now...
My current junior...
He couldn't help but admire his teacher's discerning eye.

“Come to my office at seven o’clock every night for the next few days,” Zhang Peiheng added firmly. “I’ll help you revise it word by word, and if we can’t finish, we’ll stay up all night together.”

Xu Chengjun was stunned.

Are you that free?

"If you can't submit a satisfactory manuscript in three days, your exceptional admission to graduate school will be cancelled, and you'll have to start from the undergraduate level again." Zhang Peiheng suddenly turned back as he walked to the door. "I'll go back and organize the content of this interview. The parts on traditional literary theory and cultural confidence can be inspiring for the current literary world. I'll ask for your permission first, and I may need you to supplement the content later."

That's perfectly fine!

He's a guy with a sharp tongue but a soft heart.

Noon the next day.

Xu Chengjun walked through the faculty and staff dormitory of Fudan University.

Yesterday, Old Zhu gave him the address and asked him to come to his house for lunch today. This dormitory area was originally Japanese army barracks and staff quarters of the Japanese-controlled Zhabei Waterworks, which were taken over after the victory of the War of Resistance against Japan.

These dormitories have a unique naming system and are known as "Three Villages and Four Estates".

These are Lushan Village, Xuhui Village, Jialing Village, Dezhuang, Zhuzhuang, Songzhuang, and Yuzhuang.

Later, the "Three Villages and Four Estates" outside the school were renamed Fudan University Dormitory X.

For example, "Songzhuang" was named in honor of Wusongkou Fortress, the site where Fudan University was founded. It mainly consists of two-story Japanese-style buildings, which were originally used as student dormitories and later became faculty and staff dormitories.

The best facilities are in the Ninth Dormitory, also known as Jiuyuan, where bamboo and trees grow densely and the environment is pleasant.

There are three detached villas that were once home to renowned professors such as Chen Wangdao, Su Buqing, Chen Jiangong, and Tan Jiazhen.

However, Mr. Zhu does not live here.

It's not that I'm not qualified.

Mr. Zhu politely declined the school's offer, saying, "My wife and children are not by my side; I am all alone. Why waste time?"

Mr. Zhu's home is a room in a two-story Japanese-style building.

Upon reaching the door, Xu Chengjun took a deep breath and gently knocked.

"Dong Dong~"

When Old Zhu opened the door and saw Xu Chengjun, he quickly stepped aside to greet him: "Chengjun, you're here! Come in quickly. I just got a pot of hot water from the canteen, perfect for brewing some new tea."

The door opened, and Xu Chengjun hurriedly handed over the gift he had bought early that morning.

"I'm sorry to have troubled the teacher."

"What trouble are you causing! Look at you, I told you to come, why did you bring anything!"

Can we visit without bringing anything? It's always good to be polite.

“In the past, you needed to pay a fee to become an apprentice. I don’t want anything, and I’m even eating your food for free. You should at least bring something with you!”

As he spoke, he made a strange face.

Old people are like children; sometimes, if you're too polite to older people, they might feel like you're being distant.

Old Zhu was amused by him and his silver hair shone even brighter in the sunlight.

He grabbed Xu Chengjun's arm and led him into the house.

Stepping into the room, the whole place is filled with the faint scent of ink and the warm aroma of old books.

It's worth noting that after Zhu Lao's titles of literary critic and biographer, he also had the title of calligrapher.

Upon entering Mr. Zhu's home, one finds a shared living room that also serves as a study. The wooden floor, worn smooth by time, creaks softly underfoot.

A wall of books stands against the entrance.

The dark brown wooden bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, their shelves neatly arranged with thread-bound ancient books and finely bound works.
On the old dining table in the living room, a celadon teapot was steaming.

Next to it was a plate of freshly sliced ​​braised duck, its glossy skin coated in amber-colored gravy. Beside it was a small bowl of stir-fried pickled mustard greens and edamame, the bright green beans glistening under the light.

"I was planning to have some tea and chat with you, but the master delivered the ducks early, so let's eat first."

Xu Chengjun nodded with a smile.

"The cafeteria chef said today's duck is local, so he specially saved half of it."

Old Zhu placed a duck leg into the white porcelain bowl in front of Xu Chengjun, saying, "Try it; the meat will fall off the bone with just a gentle touch."

Then, as he was speaking, he suddenly remembered something.

Turning around, I brought out two bowls of plain noodles from the kitchen. The thin, white noodles lay in the clear broth, sprinkled with bright green scallions, and the salty aroma of soy sauce mingled with the fragrance of the noodles.

Xu Chengjun picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks and immediately gave a thumbs up.

"Teacher, your cooking skills are truly amazing!"

"Come again often!"

(End of this chapter)