[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-98":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Rising in 1979",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2260806,4412,"Chapter 98: Xiao Ming, Are You Going to University","rising-in-1979-chapter-98",98,"\u003Cp>No. 675 Julu Road, Metropolis, Harvest Editorial Office.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Editor Lao Kong chuckled at the stack of reader letters on Li Xiaolin’s desk: “Haha, every one of Wei Ming’s stories is extraordinary—other authors’ reader letters combined don’t match his.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Xiaolin sighed: “I should’ve written at the end of my articles: Wei Ming is at Peking University. I still have to forward them to him.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another editor laughed: “When forwarding them, remind them not to open the letters if possible—they might all be insults directed at him.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Xiaolin smiled: “Not that bad. Letters to the editorial office about ‘The Two Donkeys’—only thirty percent are negative; about fifty percent are praise, from every angle.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The remaining twenty percent are neutral.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because he portrayed a non-idealistic educated youth, many simple-minded educated youths assumed the great writer was slandering their group, generalizing from a few cases, and flooded the press with condemnations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those with poor writing skills wrote to Harvest; those with better skills submitted to newspapers—they could even get paid for criticizing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Newspapers nationwide ran intense debates about this novel, making Ye Xin’s ‘Our Generation of Youth’—also educated youth literature in the same issue—feel almost invisible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wrote a straightforward educated youth story, relatively positive within the genre, but against Wei Ming’s unconventional ‘The Two Donkeys,’ it was rendered utterly insignificant—even as its finale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One particularly famous review appeared in a Beijing arts newspaper, titled roughly: “If you’re not an educated youth, why write educated youth literature? Do you even know how hard their lives are?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Written from the perspective of a ten-year veteran educated youth, it detailed his years in the countryside: blisters on his hands while working, rising before dawn to till the fields, laboring under the scorching sun for three hours, then collapsing onto the bunk without even reading a book.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, there was the classic tale of unrequited love—a girl he liked forced to marry the village cadre’s son.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The article covered nearly every tragic hardship an educated youth might face—truly a classic, swiftly reprinted by multiple newspapers, winning massive sympathy, and going viral.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But soon another rebuttal appeared, with an equally brilliant title.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I don’t know how hard educated youths have it, but I know you’ve never suffered as much as I have—I’m a peasant’s son.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Damn, that’s the knockout punch!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Written from the perspective of a peasant boy, the article described his family’s daily life in a flat tone—life far more exhausting and miserable than anything described by the educated youths.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The author even had a younger sister who died at age four due to terrible medical conditions—adding a heavy emotional punch that left readers in tears.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If you talk about suffering, no one can out-suffer China’s peasants!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The clash between these two opposing articles pushed ‘The Two Donkeys’ to a new level of popularity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Dai Jinhu was frustrated: “All this arguing—you’re missing the core of ‘The Two Donkeys’ entirely.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming clearly wrote a brilliant satire, yet you’re all debating whether educated youths or peasants suffered more—completely off track!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And what upset her more was that her submission to Literary Criticism had been rejected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What poor taste!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So she submitted it to her school’s Weiminghu instead—and it got accepted, set for publication in the December third issue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for Liu Zhenyun’s piece, he submitted it to Beijing Literature, earlier than hers, but still no response.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was anxious and consulted Wei Ming: “Should I go ask Beijing Literature? Maybe take Sister Zhang out for a meal?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “How much is it? Is it worth it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No, I’m just afraid the heat will fade and my article will be wasted.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming picked up a newspaper from the gatehouse and glanced at it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Relax—it’ll hold for a while longer.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With those two emotionally charged reviews, the opposing viewpoints have fully ignited the heat—it’ll last a long time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Right, those two articles were both written by Wei Ming under pseudonyms, with fake mailing addresses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His goal wasn’t just to stir up heat, though that’s exactly what happened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He figured criticism of ‘The Two Donkeys’ would inevitably use the suffering of educated youths as its argument, morally condemning any negative portrayal of them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since someone would write it eventually, fine—I’ll write it for you, and make it exactly the kind of suffering found in typical educated youth fiction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But peasants living alongside educated youths had virtually no voice, so Wei Ming wrote another article from their perspective, speaking for them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wrote only real experiences—that’s fair.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another day passed, and Liu Zhenyun waved a ten-yuan remittance slip in front of Wei Ming, excited: “Big Brother Ming, I made it! I got published, and they paid me five yuan per thousand characters!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was now the first student in their class to appear in Beijing Literature—he was bursting with pride.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming was happy for him: “According to our dorm rule, whenever someone gets paid for writing, they treat everyone to a meal at the Long March Canteen.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun stopped grinning: “I was thinking I should send the money home to improve our family’s situation. Next time, next time for sure.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: Why does that sound so familiar?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Damn, that’s exactly what I said the first time I collected my payment!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun bolted away in panic; Wei Ming returned to guarding the gate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was now stationed at the west gate, covering for a colleague whose family had an emergency.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hadn’t stood guard in a while—he actually missed it—but he’d never do it more than a day; if he did, fans would start showing up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three hit novellas and two poems had made him hugely influential among Peking University students—he couldn’t afford to be visible at a gate job. This spot was too close to Shao Garden; many familiar international students passed by and teased him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d just seen off an American kid named Amao when an old man approached, carrying a large suitcase, dressed plainly, looking kind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming went over: “Grandpa, need help?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No, no, it’s not heavy.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man said: “I’m a bit lost—what gate is this?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “West Gate.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, so that way is west, and inside is east.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Exactly.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then, Grandpa, are you looking for someone or just passing through?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, I’m looking for a job—no, wait, someone already found me one.” He pointed inside the gate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming chuckled: “That person must be powerful—Peking University hires only young people now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, Wei Ming realized: “Wait—you’re not a new professor from some department, are you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hahaha, do I look like a professor? No, no.” The old man laughed and walked in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming thought: Maybe a master craftsman with some special skill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When his replacement arrived, Wei Ming returned to the south gate and saw Ping’an Uncle there too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pulled Wei Ming outside: “Xiao Ming, I’ve got something to tell you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What? I’ve said it dozens of times—that girl’s just a regular friend.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not that. Something big!” Ping’an Uncle whispered mysteriously: “Xiao Ming, do you want to go to university? If you do, there’s a great opportunity right in front of you!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh? What opportunity?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The school just confirmed: next year, the Library Science Department will resume correspondence education!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Correspondence education—the key word is ‘correspondence.’ You don’t even need to attend classes; you study on your own and take exams.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But calling yourself a Peking University graduate through correspondence is a stretch—unless you’re a literary giant, in which case Peking University will rush to recognize you. You could even use this status to later qualify as a regular Peking University graduate student.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming was genuinely tempted—if it didn’t require effort, why not?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though correspondence students get no classroom, dorm, transport, or meals, and must pay tuition—nothing like regular students—Wei Ming wasn’t short on money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The program’s revival was only confirmed; the official rules weren’t out yet. Hearing Wei Ming was interested, Wei Ping’an promised to keep an eye out for him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Today was the last day of November.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next day, December 1st, Wei Ming met Gong Ying at the Beijing Zoo.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He figured Gong Ying had seen the buzz around ‘The Two Donkeys’ and worried she’d think he was slandering educated youths.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gong Ying had also been an educated youth for years—she’d suffered plenty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Gong Ying felt no negative impact; she told Wei Ming: “I’ve met men like Ma Jie in your novel. Among tens of millions of educated youths, all kinds of personalities exist—it’s normal to have one like him. I’ve seen worse.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh? How much worse?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gong Ying sighed: “He killed someone.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A teenage girl. He wanted her, she refused, so he… but her family beat him to death. It happened at our neighboring educated youth settlement.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After saying that, she turned around and comforted Wei Ming: “You wrote it beautifully.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Look at this,” she pulled out a copy of PLA Literature from her bag: “See? Even our military published an article praising you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming read the title: “‘The Two Donkeys’—After Reading This, You Don’t Need to Read Any Other Educated Youth Novel!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He checked the author’s name and froze: Wang Shuo? The Wang Shuo he knew?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He remembered Wang Shuo had been preparing for college in the military last year. He practiced writing essays, accidentally wrote a short story, got published in PLA Literature, and was transferred there as an editor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such an extreme title, plus the prose style echoing ‘The Two Donkeys’—it’s almost certainly him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That made his high praise for ‘The Two Donkeys’ perfectly understandable—he might even surpass Wei Ming one day, and earn the nickname “Little Wei Ming.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After touring the zoo, Wei Ming insisted on treating her—he couldn’t let Sister Xue spend her salary.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After dinner, he immediately rode his bike to the Health Research Institute to find another good sister…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1643,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","052133995b689b933903b1d3118c8ebeffac42d2ab49fa3f2949c988cb87e1a0","rising-in-1979-chapter-99","rising-in-1979-chapter-97",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]