92: Inform widely

On Baoshan Road in Zhabei, Lu Fan stood before a vast expanse of ruins, his brow furrowed and his heart heavy.

Through the few remaining walls, one could vaguely discern that this had once been a magnificent building.

This was the former site of the Eastern Library, the place Xia Yunting had been longing for.

"I'm too late... I've come much too late..." Lu Fan murmured to himself, his disappointment plain to see.

As readily as he had promised Xia Yunting to find the Eastern Library's collection, he was now equally despondent.

The sight of these ruins, completely reduced to dust, instantly made his promise seem hollow and powerless.

If even the building was gone, how could the books have survived?

Lu Fan crouched by the roadside and began to smoke gloomily.

"Brother Fan, what are you doing here?" a gentle female voice called out from beside him.

Lu Fan turned his head and saw Tang Li holding several old books in her arms, accompanied by a few young women, all looking at him with concern.

Refusing to give up, he felt as if he were grasping at a straw and asked for one final confirmation: "Was this place the Eastern Library before?"

"You're looking for the Eastern Library? Sigh... there's been nothing here for a long time."

The young woman holding books next to Tang Li spoke with a look of regret.

"Wasn't the Eastern Library known as the number one library in Asia? How did it end up like this?"

Lu Fan's face was full of confusion; in his memory, the library had been destroyed during the Battle of Shanghai.

Tang Li looked at the shocking ruins, her eyes filled with deep sorrow and anger.

"When the 'January 28 Incident' broke out, the Japanese planes dropped their evil bombs."

The Commercial Press's printing factory, its editorial department, and this Eastern Library... they were all bombed!"

Her voice carried a suppressed grief and indignation: "And that wasn't the end of it!"

"On February 1st, Japanese ronin frantically set fire to the Commercial Press's warehouse."

The fire raged for days and nights. Hundreds of thousands of precious ancient books and rare editions... all... all were turned to ash!"

Hearing this, Lu Fan's heart sank to the bottom. The Eastern Library had been destroyed for five years already.

Elder Xia's commission would likely never be fulfilled.

"Is there... really nothing left at all?" Lu Fan asked, clinging to the last sliver of faint hope.

Tang Li took a deep breath to calm her emotions.

Seeing the deep disappointment in Lu Fan's eyes, she suddenly remembered something.

Her eyes brightened slightly. "Brother Fan, there certainly aren't any complete sets left, but we might be able to find some scattered volumes."

Those words reignited Lu Fan's hope, and he asked urgently, "How do we find them?"

She pointed to the sprawling, low-slung, and dilapidated shantytown in the distance. "Brother Fan, did you know?"

"When the library was bombed and the printing house was burned back then, many ordinary people in Zhabei rushed into the fire and ruins regardless of the danger."

"They didn't understand how precious those books were, but they knew it was culture, it was heritage, and it couldn't just be gone like that!"

Many people risked their lives to save the books. Some were injured by falling debris, and some even..."

Tang Li's tone was full of respect. "Many of the books that were rescued were handed over."

"But some... were quietly hidden away by people who were literate or who knew how to cherish them."

During the years we've been volunteering here, we've seen several families with books from the library's collection, though most are now in fragments."

The frustration in Lu Fan's eyes vanished, replaced by the excitement of finding a way forward.

An hour later, a simple yet eye-catching stall was set up on the former site of the Eastern Library.

On a piece of cardboard, written in thick ink, it read:

"Buying old books at high prices, especially ancient texts, fragments, and books with the 'Eastern Library' or 'Commercial Press' stamps."

The news spread through the shantytown like the wind.

At first, only a few curious people gathered to watch.

But when Lu Fan produced real silver and gold to exchange for several worn-out books from the Eastern Library's collection, a crowd began to gather.

Old men, women, and half-grown children, once they understood what was being bought, hurried home to rummage through their belongings.

They pulled out "written papers" that had been tucked away at the bottom of chests, used to paper walls, or even meant for starting fires.

Lu Fan patiently looked through every fragmented scroll and book brought to him.

Most were ordinary literacy primers, almanacs, or even newspapers, but his eyes were sharp, not letting any possibility slip by.

A gray-haired old man wearing a patched tunic tremblingly handed over a book whose pages were stuck together.

Lu Fan carefully pried them apart; though the pages were stuck and the edges charred,

the clear "Eastern Library Collection Stamp" on the title page lifted his spirits.

He immediately paid the old man five silver dollars, far exceeding expectations.

With a concrete goal in sight, a new wave of exchanges quietly began.

Before long, he had collected several hundred books from the Eastern Library's collection.

During the hours spent at the stall, Lu Fan witnessed the poverty, decay, and struggle of the people at the bottom of the Zhabei shantytown.

The ten-mile foreign concession of the Shanghai was infinitely scenic, but beneath the surface of prosperity lay piles of bones.

This shantytown was that burial ground.

An idea became clearer and clearer in his mind.

Adhering to the philosophy that it's better to teach a man to fish than to give him a fish, he took this opportunity to announce a recruitment drive.

He then whispered to Zhao Chengqiang, who was helping maintain order nearby.

Zhao Chengqiang, who also came from the Zhabei shantytown, listened with eyes that grew brighter and brighter.

With Lu Fan's authorization, he stood up excitedly and shouted, "Fellow villagers and elders, the book collection continues! If you have good books, bring them over!"

Seeing the crowd's focus on him, he raised his voice again: "Also! I have a large number of job openings here."

My boss is in New Port, in the northern suburbs of Changsha, building a large industrial zone, and we need many hands."

Strong laborers, hardworking women, and quick-handed youngsters—we want them all!"

The crowd fell silent instantly, every pair of eyes filled with disbelief and longing.

In this era, a stable job held a fatal attraction.

"What kind of work?" someone asked boldly.

"In the beginning, it's manual labor: leveling land, digging trenches, moving materials, and building roads."

Seeing that he was making an impact, Zhao Chengqiang began to explain even more vigorously.

"Later, for building factories and dormitories, we'll need carpenters, masons, and general laborers."

Room and board are included, wages are paid daily—in cash! No deductions! As long as you're willing to work, you'll have food to eat and money to take."

"Is that for real?"

"Where is New Port in Changsha?"

"Room and board included? That's so good?"

"Really paying in cash?"

The crowd erupted instantly, everyone asking questions at once, the flames of hope igniting in their eyes.

"My name is Zhao Chengqiang, and I'm also from Zhabei; many of you should know me."

"Those interested can go to the entrance of the Liuhe Textile Factory tomorrow to register."

There, you'll see a detailed recruitment advertisement and the salary and benefits you care about most.

Those who want to go and meet the requirements can be hired on the spot.

Chinese people don't cheat Chinese people. Everyone, please help spread the word."

Zhao Chengqiang called out from his high position, switching directly into advertising mode.

"Alright! Tomorrow morning I'll go to the Liuhe Textile Factory to check it out. If it's true, I'll sign up immediately."

"I'm going too!"

"Let's go together."

"Together, together! With such a good opportunity, let's all go together."

One person took the lead, and the people around them responded one after another.

Looking at those hopeful eyes, much of the gloom in Lu Fan's heart dissipated.

The Battle of Shanghai would bring immense suffering; by providing work as a form of relief and having them work in Changsha, it might seem like he was making them leave their homes.

But at least, he was providing a way for these struggling people to support themselves with their own hands and move toward a new life.

It could be considered as him leaving behind a spark of hope for this suffering land in advance.