OBS Chapter 1258 I have a dream!
Chapter 1258 I have a dream!
Chapter 1258 I Have a Dream!
On the playground, thunderous applause resounded and lingered. The early spring sun pierced through the thin clouds, bathing the faces of every passionate young person and reflecting the glistening tears in their eyes. In the front row, a girl wearing round-framed glasses gripped her notebook tightly, her knuckles white; the boy beside her held his head high, his Adam's apple bobbing, as if a thousand words were stuck in his throat.
Cai Yuanpei stood to the side and behind the podium, watching this scene, and couldn't help but think: If only Zihan could stay at Peking University to teach.
This young man possesses a rare quality—he can persuade people with reason and move them with emotion.
Mr. Cai glanced discreetly at Lu Xun beside him and noticed that the writer, known for his sharp wit, was wiping the corner of his eye.
“Yu Cai?” Mr. Cai called softly.
Lu Xun shook his head with a wry smile: "Brother Heqing, if only I were ten years younger, I could be like them."
His voice was soft, yet it carried a deep weariness. Over the years, he had seen too many passionate young people have had their edges worn down by reality, ultimately becoming numb spectators.
Upon hearing this, Zhang Taiyan patted Lu Xun on the shoulder and said, "Yu Cai, there's no need to be so pessimistic." He looked at the tall figure on the podium and said, "Perhaps it is true, as Zihan said, that one day our motherland will once again stand at the top of the world."
Lu Xun forced a smile, but his gaze pierced through the crowd, landing on the distant, gray horizon: "I hope I can see that day."
On the podium, Qin Hao's gaze swept over the young faces below. Among them, some would, like in history, wield their pens to denounce warlords, some would abandon their pens to join the army and serve their country, and others would dedicate themselves to supporting the nation's industrial backbone. This was the most ambitious and idealistic generation of the Republic of China era.
After a long silence, Qin Hao took a deep breath and suddenly raised his right fist. This unexpected movement silenced the entire arena instantly; even the sound of the wind seemed to stop.
"Students!" His voice echoed across the playground: "I have a dream!"
Instantly, everyone's eyes on the playground focused on Qin Hao. The girl in the front row sat up straight, unaware that her pen had slipped from her fingers; several boys in the back row who had been whispering to each other looked up, their eyes full of anticipation.
"I dream that one day, this land of China, which has suffered so much humiliation, will truly stand tall from the iron heel of foreign powers and the fragmentation by warlords! The signs in the concessions that say 'No Chinese or dogs allowed' will be smashed to pieces! Consular jurisdiction will be thrown into the Huangpu River like waste paper!"
Qin Hao's words struck people's hearts like a heavy hammer, and thunderous applause erupted on the playground.
A student suddenly stood up, waving his fist and shouting, "Expel the Tartars! Restore China!"
The shout was like a spark falling into a haystack, instantly igniting the entire arena. Hundreds of students responded in unison, the sound so powerful that the flagpole next to the podium trembled slightly.
Qin Hao waited for the applause to subside before continuing, "I dream that one day, 'government of the people, by the people, for the people' will no longer be just a slogan, but will be etched into the very fabric of governance. The sunshine of fairness and justice will shine upon every corner of China, so that whether you are a gentleman in a long gown, a worker in a short jacket, a farmer wielding a hoe, or a soldier carrying a gun, on this land, you can all enjoy the basic rights and dignity of being a 'human being.'"
Lu Xun suddenly stood up, the hem of his black robe causing the stool to tip over. A long-dormant flame burned in his eyes; the anger that had been suppressed in daily life had finally found an outlet.
Qian Xuantong also stood up, his mustache trembling with excitement, completely forgetting his usual scholarly demeanor.
The students present already had tears in their eyes, especially those from less privileged backgrounds, whose daily humiliation and resentment all welled up with tears at this moment.
Qin Hao's voice suddenly became distant, as if he were depicting a magnificent painting.
"I dream that one day, on this vast land of many ethnic groups, the boundaries of regions will gradually dissolve in the recognition of a common homeland, the north and south will no longer be opposed, and the east and west will no longer be separated. Railways will be able to connect the interior and exterior of the Great Wall, and the north and south of the Yangtze River, and our 400 million compatriots will be able to work together to strive for the same goal—to build a new, strong, and democratic country."
"I dream that one day, factory chimneys will billow with smoke symbolizing industrial revitalization, schools will resound with the clear voices of children reading aloud, and fields will grow with abundance and hope!"
Suddenly, Zhang Taiyan burst into tears. He couldn't imagine what such a country would look like, and he couldn't even imagine whether we could really do it.
"I know the road ahead is fraught with thorns," Qin Hao's voice suddenly lowered, carrying a hint of heaviness. "Internally, there are corrupt elements; externally, there are powerful enemies."
His gaze swept across the entire room, meeting the eyes of every person present: "But we, the ambitious young people, must not give up hope!"
These words were like a sharp sword, piercing straight to the heart. A boy wearing thick glasses suddenly took them off and forcefully wiped away the tears welling up in his eyes.
"Because—" Qin Hao's voice suddenly rose, the last word thundering: "This is the only light that can illuminate our path through the darkness!"
A moment of silence fell, followed by a deafening roar of applause. Students rose to their feet, some waving hats, others tossing books into the air. Girls in the front rows embraced and wept, while boys in the back chanted in unison, "Expel the Tartars! Restore China!"
Watching this scene, Cai Yuanpei suddenly understood Qin Hao's charisma. This young man had not only proposed a dream, but also ignited hope—the courage to believe in light even in despair. He quietly whispered in Lu Xun's ear, "Yu Cai, I'd like to invite Zihan to become a specially appointed professor at Peking University's Faculty of Arts."
Upon hearing this, Lu Xun's lips curled into a slight smile: "Brother Heqing finally couldn't resist, but..."
He looked at the tall figure on the podium: "I'm afraid you're not the only one having this idea."
Sure enough, as soon as the speech ended, representatives from Tsinghua University pushed through the crowd and handed Qin Hao a gold-embossed invitation, followed by a steady stream of people from the Normal University. Qin Hao was surrounded and overwhelmed with attention.
In a corner, Hu Shi quietly asked Qian Xuantong, "Do you think what Zihan said can really be achieved?"
Qian Xuantong stroked his mustache, his gaze distant: "Thirty years ago, who could have imagined the fall of the Qing Dynasty? Twenty years ago, who could have imagined a republic? Ten years ago, who could have imagined that vernacular Chinese would replace classical Chinese?"
He paused, then continued, "Whether what Zihan said can be achieved, I don't know. But I'm certain that if we do it, a miracle might happen; if we do nothing, it definitely won't!"
The morning sunlight cast long shadows of the crowd on the playground. Qin Hao stood at the boundary between light and shadow, watching the students who refused to leave, and suddenly remembered a saying: There is only one true heroism in this world, and that is to recognize the cruelty of reality, not to yield or bow down, and to dare to shout: My fate is in my own hands, not in the hands of heaven.
These young people are the hope for the future.
……
Qin Hao's speech at Peking University was like a spark that instantly ignited the entire city of Beijing. His passionate words and fervent dreams spread at an astonishing pace among universities across the country through word of mouth among the students present.
"It's such a pity you didn't come to listen that day!" Wang Mingyuan, a student from the School of Liberal Arts at Peking University, excitedly slammed his hand on the table, causing the water in his teacup to splash out.
In a small teahouse on Qianmen Street, he was recounting the contents of his speech to several fellow townsmen from the teachers' college.
"When Mr. Bai mentioned that the signs in the concession that said 'No Chinese or dogs allowed' would be smashed to pieces, we were all trembling, and everyone clenched their fists!"
Li Wenzhong, wearing glasses, listened intently, forgetting to eat his sunflower seeds: "Is it really that exciting?"
“More than wonderful!” Wang Mingyuan pulled a notebook from his pocket. “I’ve written down the gist of it. Take a look at this part—” He opened the crumpled page, cleared his throat, and read aloud: “I dream that one day, factory chimneys will billow with smoke symbolizing industrial revitalization, schools will resound with the clear voices of children reading aloud, and fields will grow with abundance and hope…”
Li Wenzhong and the others were incredibly excited after hearing this.
"Mr. Bai is absolutely right."
A young man in a student uniform at the next table suddenly interjected, "Excuse me, could I borrow your notes? I'm from Tsinghua University; I couldn't attend yesterday due to other commitments."
"Okay, but be careful not to break it."
The news spread like wildfire. In less than three days, Qin Hao's speech had been copied countless times by hand by students and circulated among various universities.
Meanwhile, Mr. Chen was staring intently at a thick stack of manuscripts on the table. It was the full text of Qin Hao's speech, which he had compiled overnight.
Hu Shi asked cautiously, "Are you sure you want to publish the whole thing? Isn't the content too sensitive?"
Mr. Chen adjusted his glasses, his gaze behind the lenses resolute: "Not a single word will be changed. If we don't even dare to publish the truth, what kind of *New Youth* are we running?"
Meanwhile, Liu Cheng, a reporter for the *Shen Bao* newspaper stationed in Beiping, was also writing furiously. He had just received the transcript of a speech from a Peking University student yesterday…
The next morning, the first batch of newspapers carrying the full text of Qin Hao's speech finally hit the market.
"Extra! Extra! Bai Zihan's speech at Peking University, 'I Have a Dream,' has shocked the audience!" A thin newsboy ran down Qianmen Street, his clear voice piercing through the noisy marketplace.
Inside the teahouse, a wealthy merchant dressed in a lake-blue brocade jacket looked up upon hearing this. He put down his covered-bowl of tea and beckoned towards the door: "Hey kid, come here!"
The newsboy trotted to the table, beads of sweat still clinging to his forehead: "Sir, would you like a newspaper? Five copper coins a day."
The wealthy merchant pulled out five copper coins from his purse, took the still-scented copy of the *Shenbao* newspaper, and casually asked, "Is this Bai Zihan in your newspaper the one who wrote the simplified Chinese characters?"
“That’s right, it’s the real deal!” The newsboy puffed out his chest, as if he were proud: “My uncle works as a janitor at Peking University. He said that the playground was packed with people that day, and if you went late, you couldn’t even squeeze in.”
"Okay, give me one."
"Okay, here's your newspaper."
The wealthy businessman unfolded the newspaper, his gaze sweeping across the front page. Gradually, his hand, which was holding a teacup, paused in mid-air, his brows furrowing and relaxing intermittently.
He suddenly slammed his hand on the table, making the teacups clatter: "Well said! Absolutely well said!"
The other businessmen at the table were startled. Mr. Zhang, the herbal medicine merchant in the brown jacket, leaned forward and asked, "Old Zhou, what's causing this commotion?"
The wealthy businessman Zhou Shichang pushed the newspaper towards him, his voice trembling slightly: "Look for yourself. If only that day ever came!"
Mr. Zhang took the newspaper with suspicion and squinted as he read. A few minutes later, he couldn't help but slap his thigh: "Great! Well said! 'The sunshine of fairness and justice shines on every corner of China'... These words resonate with me!"
Their reaction attracted the attention of other customers in the teahouse. Soon, several more people bought newspapers and circulated them. In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the entire teahouse was discussing Qin Hao's speech.
"Have you heard? That textbook editor gave a long speech at Peking University!"
My nephew said that everyone at his school is copying it!
"If it really turns out like he said, then there will be hope for our future..."
As evening fell, several rickshaw pullers pooled their money to buy a copy of the *Morning Post* at a wonton stall near the Dongsi Archway. The young puller, who could read, stammered as he read it aloud, while the others gathered in a circle, occasionally letting out gasps of amazement.
“‘Abundance and hope grow in the fields,’” the young driver read, his voice suddenly choked with emotion. He thought of the few acres of barren land in his hometown, and of his sister who had starved to death; his turbid tears dripped onto the newspaper.
Such scenes were playing out in every corner of Beijing. From the Six Nations Hotel, where dignitaries gathered, to the Tianqiao Teahouse, where peddlers and laborers congregated; from progressive young people in Western-style cafes dressed in Western suits, to old men and women basking in the sun at the entrance of hutongs—everyone was talking about that "dream."
Due to the overwhelming response, newspapers that did not reprint the article were completely ignored, and many newspapers joined in the reprinting effort to boost sales.
In just a few days, Qin Hao's speech spread like a spring breeze across North China. Cities like Tianjin, Baoding, and Taiyuan began reprinting the speech. The editor-in-chief of Shanghai's *Shen Bao* even wrote an editorial praising it as "a cry of the new era."
……
In Xi'an, Lu Zhaopeng was substituted for Professor Chen when he suddenly noticed some students making small movements. He frowned and tapped on the desk.
"Hey you two in the back row, do you have anything interesting to share with everyone?"
The two students sheepishly looked up. One of them hesitated for a moment, then pulled a newspaper from under the table and whispered, "Teacher Lu, we just saw Mr. Bai Zihan's speech in *New Youth*, and we just couldn't help but..."
Lu Zhaopeng paused slightly, then stepped down from the podium and took the newspaper. His gaze swept over the headline—"I Have a Dream"—and his expression shifted from solemn to relaxed.
"I knew long ago that Zihan was no ordinary person. Sure enough, he became famous overnight in the capital. I have a dream. Well said, very well said."
The student whose newspaper had been taken heard him speaking softly and couldn't help but ask curiously.
"Mr. Lu, do you know Mr. Bai?"
"We're more than just acquaintances; we grew up in the same village."
"Ah, Mr. Lu, could you tell us about Mr. Bai?"
……