Cutting-Edge Technology R&D Center

Chapter 4: Wang Hao’s Student

“Brother, are we almost there? I see smoke.” Zhang Xin walked with a look of despair on her face, but when she spotted what appeared to be smoke in the distance, her expression suddenly lit up with excitement. “We’re almost there. That’s cooking smoke—the villagers are making breakfast,” Wang Hao said after glancing in that direction. “Great! We’re finally here,” Zhang Xin shouted excitedly. She wasn’t the only one feeling revitalized—Zhang Xin’s parents and Zhang Nan felt the same way. They hadn’t rested once along the way, and the mountain path was extremely difficult to navigate; at times, there wasn’t even a trail, forcing them to climb up cliff-like mountain walls. The further they walked, the deeper their admiration for Wang Hao grew… After rounding a mountain ridge, they finally caught sight of a small mountain village. From a distance, a stream flowed gently; the village was surrounded by farmland and nestled among high mountains. At that moment, many people were busy working in the fields, while a few yellow oxen grazed leisurely not far away. “How beautiful.” This blend of human life and nature immediately moved Zhang Xin to marvel at the scenery… In the distance, a small waterfall cascaded down, and by the pool formed at its base, quite a few women were washing clothes. Wang Hao watched the four of them, captivated by the scenery, and didn’t speak up to disturb them. But just then, the excited voice of a middle-aged man suddenly rang out. “Teacher Wang is here… Teacher Wang is here…” Zhang’s father didn’t understand, because the man wasn’t speaking Mandarin but a dialect—one of the many spoken in Ganzhou City. “Xiao Hao, is that the Hakka dialect? It really is hard to understand,” Mr. Zhang’s father turned to ask Wang Hao. “Yes, this is the Hakka dialect commonly spoken in southern Gan,” Wang Hao nodded. Being Hakka himself, he always felt a deep sense of familiarity whenever he heard the Hakka dialect on his trips here from Ganzhou City. “Teacher Wang is here!” The crowd working in the fields nearby immediately grew excited. “Daniu, make sure to give Teacher Wang a warm welcome. I’ll go tell the village chief right away…” Without waiting for Daniu to reply, he ran straight out of the field... heading toward the village. “Teacher Wang, these are…” Daniu looked somewhat puzzled at the people behind Wang Hao. “These are my parents and my younger brother, and this is Uncle Daniu,” Wang Hao introduced them to each other. Mr. and Mrs. Zhang, along with their children Zhang Xin and Zhang Nan, were all taken aback… Although they didn’t fully understand the conversation in the Hakka dialect, the Hakka pronunciation of “parents” differed slightly from the Mandarin version—though the difference wasn’t significant—meaning they had caught some of it. This was the first time they’d heard Wang Hao introduce them this way, though it was possible he simply hadn’t had a similar opportunity before. Mr. and Mrs. Zhang suppressed their excitement. Mr. Zhang turned to Da Niu and said, “Hello.” Both Mr. and Mrs. Zhang were former teachers—in fact, they were both university professors—and exuded a strong scholarly air. Their greeting, coupled with Mr. Zhang’s outstretched hand, left Da Niu at a loss; he hurriedly wiped his hand on his shirt. “Teacher Wang, we’ve been waiting for you!” A hurried voice rang out from the village… Only after the voice was heard did several figures come into view. “Let’s go over there. Don’t let the old village chief keep us waiting,” Wang Hao said to the others as he watched the figures emerge in the distance. Zhang’s parents nodded, watching with admiration as Wang Hao chatted comfortably with the villagers. He carried himself entirely like an adult; they saw not a trace of the immaturity one might expect from a high school senior. Zhang Xin and Zhang Nan, meanwhile, had stars in their eyes. Like adoring fans, they looked up at their older brother Wang Hao with admiration, as if there were no problem he couldn’t solve. “Village Chief, Uncle Zhen, hello…” Wang Hao hurriedly greeted them. The group chatted as they entered the village. Zhang’s father was also talking with the man Wang Hao had addressed as Uncle Zhen. He noticed that most villagers couldn’t speak Mandarin, and Uncle Zhen was one of the few who could speak a little. After exchanging a few words with the village chief, Wang Hao headed toward a small courtyard built of stacked stones. He knew the village children were all there, waiting for him; since they’d walked rather slowly, they’d indeed been kept waiting for a while. Mr. Zhang also wrapped up his conversation with Uncle Zhen and looked at Wang Hao with a touch of emotion in his eyes. From Uncle Zhen’s few words, he could sense the deep respect he held for Wang Hao. Moreover, he learned something that left him utterly stunned: in just one year, Wang Hao had actually trained a top-scoring student in Xijiang Province—the very student who, a year ago, had been hailed as a miracle. A student who had been average in his sophomore year suddenly made tremendous strides in his senior year. In just two or three months, he went from being a struggling student at the bottom of the class to the top of the entire school. After that, his performance became unstoppable; for the final half-year leading up to the college entrance exam, he consistently maintained the top spot, with a massive lead over the second-place student. As for why Zhang’s father knew this so well, he had once remarked that this student’s story was nothing short of an underdog’s comeback. He had specifically followed the story and recalled an interview with last year’s top scorer. He recalled that the top scorer had once said the person he was most grateful to was a mentor—a teacher who was even younger than he was… When Zhang’s father saw this, he couldn’t help but sigh, lamenting the decline of morals in society—that even eighteen- or nineteen-year-olds were now creating sensational headlines. He didn’t pay much attention to what happened afterward. It seemed the media had visited the school, but in the end, they couldn’t find the teacher the provincial top scorer had mentioned, and the matter was eventually dropped. But he never expected to hear news about that top scorer again—and this time, the top scorer’s account sounded as if it were actually true. What’s more, the top scorer’s teacher turned out to be the son he had adopted, which struck him as utterly unbelievable. But looking at Uncle Zhen’s unassuming face and the look of excitement and pride he showed for his son, he found himself, for some reason, beginning to believe it. “Brother, you really explain the lessons well,” Zhang Xin said, listening intently. In this small courtyard enclosed by stone walls stood a thatched hut with open sides. The roof was covered with a thick layer of oiled paper to keep out the rain, but Zhang’s father and the other three didn’t go inside because it was already filled with children. “Xiao Hao’s grades are inflated,” Zhang’s father remarked as he listened to Wang Hao explain the math. The way Wang Hao made complex concepts accessible even drew Zhang’s father in unconsciously. He looked at the students inside the thatched hut—of varying ages—and noticed that not a single one was distracted; they were all listening with complete concentration. Some were only five or six years old; though their expressions sometimes betrayed confusion, they listened intently… and took notes every step of the way. “You’re the one exaggerating! Let me tell you, Xiao Hao is so sensible—he would never cheat,” Zhang’s mother snapped, glaring at Zhang’s father in a low voice, afraid of disturbing Wang Hao’s lesson.