My era, 1979!

Chapter 52 Xu Chengjun, you have disappointed me greatly.

When the library clock struck 8:30, the elderly librarian came to urge him for the third time: "Young man, the library is closing."

Xu Chengjun suddenly looked up and rubbed his sore eyes.

The penmanship on the manuscript paper swayed like a blur under the desk lamp, and the references on the last page only went up to the 6th issue of "Literary Review" in 1978.

He was taken aback; he had assumed that libraries in this era also closed at 10 p.m.

However, Fudan University Library actually closed after the Bilibili era and only reopened in September of this year in the former St. John's University Chapel.

The library's opening now is a unique "trial operation" in this era.

Xu Chengjun patted his face to clear his head.

"I'm leaving right away." He hurriedly stuffed his paper into his canvas bag, greeted the old lady, and headed straight out of the library.

Today's task is basically completed. All that's left is to check for omissions and make up for them tomorrow, and then copy them again on paper.

On my way to leveling up, I cleared out a small monster.
The streetlights in the corridor had just come on, and their dim yellow light shone through the frosted glass, casting grid-like spots of light on the wooden floor.

Xu Chengjun descended the creaking stairs, the manuscript in his canvas bag swaying slightly with each step.

The lights were on in the gatehouse at the school entrance, and the old gatekeeper was wiping his bicycle with a rag.

He still remembered Xu Chengjun when he saw him, and looked up at the wall clock: "Leaving now? The last bus on route 93 stops at nine o'clock."

Xu Chengjun then realized that even if he could go back and transfer to the Writers' Association Guesthouse, it would be almost 11 o'clock by then!

The timing was alright.

The key point is that Wang Zengqi was nearly 60 years old, and he really couldn't bear to go back and bother him at that time.

That's not something a junior should do.

Alright, let's give Teacher Wang some private space~
I thanked the old gatekeeper and asked for directions to the educated youth building.

He took out the accommodation slip given to him by the academic affairs officer and headed towards the educated youth building.

The evening breeze carried the fragrance of locust blossoms as Xu Chengjun followed the signs deeper into the area.

The sound of dribbling a basketball came from the court. Several boys in military green vests were playing a night game in the dark, and the squeaking sound of their shoes rubbing against the ground was particularly clear.

On a stone bench by the field, a couple was reading "Popular Cinema" magazine under the streetlights of the main road, with Liu Xiaoqing smiling brightly on the cover.

The funny thing is, even on days that aren't so dark, with streetlights, Xu Chengjun felt he couldn't see much.

Perhaps they are looking at the flowers blooming in each other's hearts.

As he passed by, the two of them, who had just clasped hands, let go of each other's hands as if they were thieves.

As I passed by Xianghui Hall, the loudspeaker suddenly blared, and the opening theme of "News Broadcast" blared out with a static-filled sound.

Several students were gathered around the bulletin board, looking at the newly posted notices by the light. The words "List of Interviewees for Special Talents in the Chinese Department" on one of the red papers were particularly eye-catching.

Xu Chengjun slowed his pace and heard someone mutter, "Xu Chengjun, a sent-down youth from Fengyang... Where have I seen that name before?"

"Guangming Daily! The one that wrote 'Walking Towards the Light'! It mentions him in the article, he's also from Fengyang, so it should be the same person."

Another voice chimed in, "I heard they're going to admit students exceptionally, and the whole department is in an uproar."

He paused, somewhat surprised.

"Walking Towards the Light" and "Letter" were just published in the Anqing Daily, so why are they now in the Guangming Daily?
How did it get to Fudan University so quickly?
After shaking his head and thinking about it, he guessed that it must have been some kind of coincidence that led an editor to see the Anhui Youth Daily.

His poem and letter actually align with the founding principles of the Guangming Daily.

The educated youth building is hidden behind a red brick wall, with a peeling sign hanging on the wooden door.

The old man on duty was dozing off at his desk when he was startled awake by the knocking on the door. He mumbled, "Registration, letter of introduction."

Xu Chengjun handed over the slip of paper from the Chinese Department. The old man squinted and made two strokes in the register: "Room 302, take the key yourself. The cafeteria opens at seven o'clock tomorrow morning, bring your own food coupons."

The room was simpler than the Writers' Association Guesthouse, with a coarse cloth mattress on the iron-framed bed and a rusty washbasin stand in the corner.

But the window faces the large lawn, and the evening breeze carries the fragrance of grass and trees as it passes through.

Just as he was about to wash up after putting down his luggage, Xu Chengjun suddenly remembered that there were a few parts of his thesis that needed further revision.

He pulled out some scrap paper and began writing furiously on the bedside table, but he could vaguely hear arguing outside the window. "Walking Towards the Light is too pretentious! 'Being sensible is a deep despair,' isn't that just pointless whining?" the boy's voice was angry.

"What do you know!" the girl retorted immediately. "None of the educated youth sent to the countryside had it as easy as you. Writing sentences like this is what you call empathy!"

Xu Chengjun stopped writing.

Isn't this talking about his own poetry?

And you're still criticizing my poetry right in front of me?

You've got some nerve, kid!
He quietly walked to the window and peeked out through the curtains.

Three or four students were gathered under the streetlights. The boys were wearing polyester shirts and the girls had their hair in ponytails. They were all holding crumpled copies of the Guangming Daily.

The boy in the shirt was pointing at the newspaper supplement: "It's one thing for the Guangming Daily to reprint it, but the editor's note is praising it too much!"

"Then what do you mean by saying it's not excessive flattery? Is constantly shouting 'Long live reform' the only way to be considered orthodox?"

The girl with the ponytail slammed the newspaper in front of him. "'Roads are made by people walking on them,' that hit a nerve, didn't it?"

The short man with glasses suddenly interjected: "I think 'The Letter' is better written than 'The Poem.' 'Frozen fingertips can write about spring'—that's the true portrayal of educated youth."

"Come on,"

The boy in the shirt scoffed, "Who still believes that 'old grain in a warehouse can sprout' these days? It's clearly just gilding the lily of suffering!"

Xu Chengjun couldn't help but push open the door: "Hey classmate, want to borrow a newspaper?"

The arguing stopped abruptly.

The three students turned their heads in unison and saw Xu Chengjun wearing a white shirt with shampoo on, their eyes filled with vigilance.

"Who are you?" The boy in the shirt hid the newspaper behind his back.

"Just passing by." Xu Chengjun smiled and leaned closer.
"I just overheard you talking about 'Walking Towards the Light.' I've read that poem too, and it's just so-so."

The boy in the shirt's eyes immediately lit up: "See! I knew it was pretentious..."

"Especially the line 'planting two shadows under the moonlight,' the metaphor is too old-fashioned."

Xu Chengjun stroked his chin and commented, "It would be more practical to just write 'Act like a grandson during the day, and be yourself at night'."

The girl with the ponytail suddenly exploded: "You don't know anything! This is called imagery! Do you know that the author, Xu Chengjun, is coming for an interview tomorrow? It's all posted on the bulletin board!"

"Oh? Then tell me what he's interviewing for?" Xu Chengjun teased her on purpose.

"I'll be included in the special talent program!" the girl exclaimed excitedly, clutching the newspaper. "Being able to find light in hardship is a hundred times better than someone like you who only makes sarcastic remarks!"

Wow, that tone!
Was he Fudan University's first die-hard fan?

The short man with glasses suddenly pointed at Xu Chengjun: "I've seen you before! Just now, you were staring at the interview list for ages in front of the bulletin board!"

The three students were stunned the moment Xu Chengjun nodded.

The newspaper in the shirt fell to the ground with a "thud," and the title of the supplement, "Walking Towards the Light," was particularly eye-catching under the streetlights.

"You...you are Xu Chengjun?" The girl with the ponytail asked, her voice trembling.

“It’s genuine.” Xu Chengjun picked up the newspaper and said to the boy in the shirt with a smile, “Just consider these sentences as something I wrote when my fingers were so cold I couldn’t bend them, purely to vent.”

The boy in the shirt blushed instantly, scratching his head and backing away: "I...I didn't mean to, I just felt..."

"You think it's not revolutionary enough?" Xu Chengjun patted him on the shoulder with a smile. "That's normal. When I write about rural themes, the editors always say my tone is too gloomy."

The short man with glasses picked up the newspaper: "Comrade Xu, could you sign this for me? I'd like to give it to my sister. She just returned to the city and keeps saying she can't see any hope."

Before the short man could finish speaking,

Then the girl with the ponytail muttered, "Even though you are Xu Chengjun, I still really like your poems!"

As if afraid that her description was not accurate enough, she spread her hands and continued, "I like it very, very much!"

But you disappointed me!

(End of this chapter)