CDJMM – Volume 1 – Chapter 8 Writing in the Republic Era (7)

These past few days, two matters have caused the biggest stir in Fengtian.

One was the serialized story The Fengtian Locked Room Murder Case in Fengtian Miscellany. The piece was little more than ten thousand words, yet it revealed an unheard-of criminal trick. Readers not only slapped the table in amazement but also couldn’t help admiring the vengeful butler.

“In my opinion, that wealthy merchant was rich but heartless, ruining an entire family. To pay with his life was only just. The butler endured humiliation, bided his time for over ten years, and finally took his revenge—now that’s a real hero! I say the butler shouldn’t be arrested; he ought to be commended instead!” someone declared to his friend at a teahouse.

The friend, however, shook his head. “That’s not right. As the saying goes, the state has its laws, the family its rules. If everyone acted like that butler, then what use would there be for law?”

“Tch! You’re so pedantic!”

“And you’re far too extreme in your thinking…”

Debates like this abounded everywhere. The camps of “justice by emotion” and “justice by law” clashed fiercely, making The Fengtian Locked Room Murder Case spread ever more widely. Even citizens in neighboring cities had heard of the controversy. While Fengtian Miscellany’s sales surged, Le Jing’s debut work, The Fengtian Locked Room Murder Case, unexpectedly gained renown in several nearby cities—an unforeseen delight. But that, of course, was another story.

As for the second matter, it was Li Jingran’s Letter of Parting from Father published in the Great River Evening Post. Though barely two thousand words, it brimmed with sincerity, the patriotic spirit of a true child of China leaping off the page, stirring admiration in readers.

Had it been merely the writing of an unknown youth, it would not have caused much commotion in Fengtian. But by chance, the article fell into the hands of the local eminent scholar, Master Sun Qifang—and not only did he read it, he even wrote an essay publicly endorsing it!

Now, this Elder Sun was a towering figure in the Northeast. Once a Tanhua (third-place laureate) in the late Qing, he later studied abroad in multiple countries during the Republic, immersing himself in the theories of many foreign thinkers. He was a great scholar versed in both East and West, widely acclaimed across the three provinces as a true hero.

But how did such a man come to be entangled with a nobody like Li Jingran? The story traced back to another figure mentioned in Letter of Parting from Father—Li Jingran’s younger sister, Li Shuran. Though a woman, Li Shuran carried within her a fervent patriotism. She left her father, left her mother, to study abroad, even at the cost of her most precious maidenly reputation. Such conduct naturally caught the eye of Sun Qifang, who had long championed women’s emancipation. And so, in his essay, he lavished her with praise again and again—while Li Jingran was mentioned only in passing.

With such a towering figure singing their praises, countless eyes turned to the sibling authors of Letter of Parting from Father, Li Jingran and Li Shuran. Many even envied Li Tingye for having such a fine daughter.

Yet the man who was now the envy of all, Li Tingye, was far from living as comfortably as people imagined.

Smash! A teacup shattered to pieces on the floor. Still unsatisfied, Li Tingye seized a nearby vase and hurled it down as well.

His eyes flickered with fury and suspicion as he stared at the newspaper on the table—the very one carrying Sun Qifang’s public commendation of Letter of Parting from Father. Gritting his teeth, he growled, “One after another—why must they all oppose me!”

What spell had Li Jingran cast? Having Li Tingfang meddle wasn’t enough, and now even that old dog Sun Qifang had gotten involved!

“Ungrateful brats! Ungrateful brats!” His beard bristled, his eyes bulged with rage. “I should have strangled them at birth!”

Thinking back to that day, his anger still refused to subside. Who knew what kind of bewitching potion that unfilial son had poured into Li Tingfang’s ears, that old bastard, making him plan everything for the boy? If it hadn’t been for their move of striking first and then announcing later, using the newspaper to force his hand, he wouldn’t have been put into such a passive position today!

And to think that when Li Jingran left that day, he had even handed him two hundred silver dollars as travel expenses—his heart bled at the memory! Yet he couldn’t object, either! Everyone outside was praising him as a father who taught his children well, lauding him as a patriotic businessman. If he dared to oppose it, his reputation would instantly become foul beyond repair.

If it had only been Li Jingran, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so furious—he had more than one son, after all. But when the boy left, he even took Li Shuran with him!

He had already discussed with Master Wu about marrying his daughter off to their family in mid-next month, and now that unfilial brat had just upped and left. How was he supposed to explain this to Master Wu?! His business was in a crucial stage of growth, and it was precisely when he needed Wu’s support the most.

He asked himself: had he ever failed to provide those siblings with food and clothing? He had raised them for more than ten years. And now, just when it was their turn to contribute to the family, they had turned their backs on their parents and run away!? How could he have sired such ungrateful, treacherous wolves in human clothing!

Li Tingfang—what a fine Li Tingfang! He would remember this grudge!

Le Jing sat on the jostling train, missing the modern high-speed rail all the more. From Shenyang to Beiping, in modern times the trip would take just a few hours, yet now it had taken them two full days and nights. By the time they got off at Beiping Station, the once lively Li Shuran looked as wilted as cabbage hit by frost.

Le Jing didn’t feel much better. The trains of the Republican era were the complete opposite of the clean, bright carriages of modern times. Inside, not only was there the nauseating stench of diesel, but also the sour odor common among the working class, and even the reek of animal droppings. All these smells mixed together into something like a biological weapon.

Only after the siblings drew several deep breaths of Beiping’s fresh air did their noses and brains feel revived. Le Jing consoled himself bitterly—at least there was no smog in Beiping now.

He looked around the station and quickly spotted the man holding a placard to greet them. His uncle had sent a telegram earlier to an old friend in Beiping, asking him to arrange lodging for the siblings.

The one sent to meet them was the friend’s son, a man in his twenties, well-groomed and upright in bearing—clearly a scholarly young gentleman.

“Pleased to meet you, I am Ye Lian. My father sent me to receive you both.”

Since they were all young, they warmed up quickly after a few polite words.

It was the siblings’ first time in Beiping, and naturally the Ye family ought to host them to a meal.

After a satisfying dinner at the Ye residence, Le Jing raised the request that he and his sister needed to find a place to live.

“Why bother renting outside?” Ye Lian’s father said warmly. “Our home still has spare rooms. Since you are nephews of Wanxiu (Li Tingfang’s courtesy name), you’re family. Just stay here in peace.”

Le Jing declined repeatedly, his words earnest and sincere. Only then did Ye Lian’s father stop insisting, and let his son help them find a place.

Ye Lian seemed prepared, and readily agreed: “Don’t worry, I’ll find you a place that’s perfect in every way.” He then took them to board the public tram to inspect places in person.

Queuing up for the tram, Le Jing felt a strange sense of time dislocation. If not for the scholars in long gowns all around him, he might have thought he’d traveled back to modern times.

But riding on the tram—those same ones that future generations would only see in old historical photographs—was no pleasant experience. The constant bumping made his backside ache. No wonder old Beiping folks called these trams “diang-diang cars.”

When they finally arrived at the stop, Le Jing practically dragged Li Shuran off the tram like fleeing a disaster.

The first house Ye Lian showed them was a siheyuan courtyard, located at what in modern terms would be Beiping’s Third Ring area. With seven or eight side rooms, the monthly rent was just twenty silver dollars. Based on the conversion between silver dollars and modern RMB, that was barely a little over 2,000 yuan a month.

Unlike the capital of later times, where every inch of land was precious, land in Beiping was truly cheap.

Later research even showed that among Beiping, Shanghai, and Guangzhou, the housing prices of the Republican era ranked lowest in Beiping—even Tianjin’s was higher.

In 1933, the Republican government valued land in the four most prosperous areas—Xijiaomin Alley, Wangfujing Street, Zhengyangmen Street, and Dashilan—at just 2,000 silver dollars per mu. At that time, one silver dollar in the city had the purchasing power of about 50 RMB. That meant one mu of prime land was only worth 100,000 RMB!

To think that with just over 2,000 RMB rent per month, one could live in a siheyuan inside the Third Ring of Beiping—no wonder so many modern mortgage slaves sighed with longing, wishing they could transmigrate back.

Le Jing walked around the siheyuan and found it quite satisfactory. It would save him the trouble of viewing other places, so he signed the lease on the spot, officially beginning his “tiny rental” life as a Beiping drifter.