Chapter Twenty: The Plan Begins

(Happy Mid-Autumn Festival to everyone!)

When Lin Nan treated all those incomprehensible terms as mere symbols and focused only on the numbers, he quickly solved the final problem as well. Setting down his mechanical pencil, Lin Nan flexed his wrist and fingers. Looking up, he noticed that two or three students, also strong in mathematics, had finished as he had, but they sensibly refrained from reporting to Old Mei that they wanted to go home.

After about half an hour, Old Mei’s voice came from the front of the small classroom: "You’ve almost finished these six problems, haven’t you? The difficulty of the preferred admission test is about the same. If anyone hasn’t completed them by now, you definitely need to improve your problem-solving speed. Next, I’ll explain them to you."

Then Old Mei meticulously explained the six problems to the class. Every student, including Lin Nan, listened attentively. Old Mei talked through the solution process, then discussed the underlying approach, and even delved into the mindset of the exam’s author, ensuring each student firmly grasped the methods for tackling such questions.

When the explanation ended, Old Mei wrote down another six problems of the same type on the small blackboard. This time, only twenty minutes were allotted for answers before the next round of explanations began.

With that, the first math tutoring session came to an official close.

At home, when Lin Nan recounted his unusual experience to Lin Lang, the latter was astonished—he had never expected such an outstanding teacher to be present in QS County.

Seated in his study, Lin Lang pondered for a moment, then picked up his pen and added Mei Xiabing’s name to the educational plan on his large sheet of paper.

Looking over the paper on his desk, Lin Lang saw his general plan was nearly complete. Lin Nan’s studies and basketball training could now proceed independently, requiring little of his oversight for the time being.

Though the high school entrance exam was only half a year away, Lin Lang remained entirely unconcerned.

Setting down his fountain pen, he closed his eyes and leaned gently back in his computer chair, limbs relaxed, carefully reviewing in his mind if anything had been overlooked.

At this moment, if anyone could have seen the educational plan beneath the desk lamp, they would be utterly amazed. But could this plan truly succeed?

At the very top of the white paper were two large characters: "On Teaching."

Any reader from Huaxia would know this referenced a famous essay by Han Yu, a literary giant of the Tang Dynasty. The piece expounds the importance of learning from teachers, satirizes the prevailing disdain for mentorship, and serves to enlighten youth and transform social attitudes.

Beneath it was a short phrase: "When three walk together, there must be one I can learn from." This is, of course, from Confucius’ Analects.

Further down ran row upon row of "interests and hobbies": art, martial arts, sports, literature, the sciences, and so on.

Each "interest" was subdivided—art into singing, dance, painting, musical instruments; martial arts into Wing Chun, taekwondo, free combat, boxing; sports into basketball, soccer, running, rock climbing, diving, parachuting; literature into writing, history, geography; the sciences into physics, chemistry, astronomy, biology, and more.

In short, the entire page was densely filled with nearly every hobby or potential profession imaginable.

Among them, two items were circled: basketball and gaming.

These two, one could say, represented the youth of many, and were also the subjects Lin Lang had studied most deeply in education in his previous life.

For young people, sports and games exert a profound influence, often becoming decisive factors in their personal development.

What Lin Lang set out to do in this life was to ensure every adolescent lost in confusion could truly understand themselves, find their ideal path, and strive toward it.

That night, Lin Lang informed his wife, Ye Xinlan, that he would be away for a few days and that Lin Nan’s meals would be in her care.

Ye Xinlan gazed at her husband, sensing he grew ever more mysterious. Since Lin Nan’s thirteenth birthday, it was as if he had changed completely.

Yet, she found the transformation pleasing—for instance, she now fell asleep every night, nestled securely on his shoulder and in his arms.

Moreover, under his guidance, Lin Nan had truly undergone a renewal. Seeing her son’s daily happiness and confidence filled her with joy.

Ye Xinlan was not overly curious by nature, but she couldn’t help but ask softly, “Where are you going?”

Lin Lang smiled lightly: “To a place full of opportunity and challenge.”

...

Shenzhen—the largest special economic zone in Huaxia.

For decades, this once barren region had developed at a pace that astonished the world.

Now, it bore no resemblance to its impoverished past: skyscrapers loomed everywhere, transportation networks sprawled in all directions. Countless businesses and talents had flocked here, and in the span of mere decades, they had flourished.

Most renowned among them was the local powerhouse, Wanlin Group, a conglomerate spanning commercial real estate, luxury hotels, cultural tourism, film and television, sports, and online finance—one of the world’s top 500 companies.

The next day, at two in the afternoon.

Stepping out of the taxi and standing beneath the headquarters of Wanlin Group, Lin Lang gazed up at the towering building, sunlight casting shimmering reflections across its many stories. A trace of longing flickered in his heart, only to be extinguished in the next instant.

In his previous life, Lin Lang’s material conditions had not been lacking—in fact, they were quite good. Yet, after living more than half his life, Lin Lang had come to realize a fundamental truth: nothing in the world compares to a happy and whole family.

Having spent several hours on a flight, Lin Lang was feeling a bit weary. His eyes quickly scanned his surroundings.

Not far away, he spotted a Starbucks. The comfortable, tranquil atmosphere seemed a perfect choice.

He strode down the street and entered.

Settling into the peaceful environment, Lin Lang ordered a coffee and reclined on the sofa, closing his eyes to rest.

Gradually, the face of someone awaiting his rescue surfaced in his mind.

Wan Cong, sole heir to the chairman of Wanlin Group.

In this life, Lin Lang had no connection with such a figure. But in his previous life, he had served for a time as Wan Cong’s basketball coach.

He knew well what kind of person Wan Cong was: simple, passionate about sports, born into wealth, eager to make his mark, but always dismissed as playing at trifles by his father.

He was loyal, always true to his friends, yet found it difficult to make genuine friendships.

In his past life, Lin Lang had been one of the few true friends Wan Cong ever had. At the time, Lin Lang devoted himself entirely to education, and Wan Cong recognized him as someone worthy of respect and sincerity.

Thus, Lin Lang was privy to many of Wan Cong’s affairs—such as the fact that, around this time, he must have just returned from studying abroad, and that on a day as fine as this, he would certainly be playing basketball at the park near Wanda Group around five or six in the evening.

Most crucially, Lin Lang knew a secret about Wan Cong.

Staring at the four golden letters atop the Wanlin Group building, Lin Lang realized he could think of no faster nor better way.

By 2012, Huaxia’s internet industry was already well established. Lin Lang himself was not well-versed in this field; even with his rebirth, launching his educational plan online by himself would be difficult and time-consuming, even if ultimately feasible.

After all, his goal had never been to make money or promote himself, but to advance the education of all children.

Therefore, the ideal strategy was to seek Wan Cong’s collaboration. Wan Cong had vision as well as strength.

And the secret Lin Lang knew was the key to opening that door.

...

Five o’clock in the afternoon, Donghua Street Basketball Park, Shenzhen.

At this hour every day, the courts were at their busiest, and today was no exception.

In the corner, on an unremarkable court, a young man indistinguishable from any ordinary person was practicing shots repeatedly.

Clearly, he had just arrived, for his shots kept missing—he was likely trying to find his rhythm.

Meanwhile, Lin Lang, upon entering the park, headed straight for the quieter, less crowded corners, knowing full well that Wan Cong would never play on the busiest courts.

However, Lin Lang had initially entered from the opposite end and spent several minutes searching before reaching the right spot.

The moment Wan Cong appeared within Lin Lang’s sight, he recognized him at once.

A limited edition purple jersey, number 24, pink Kobe 4 ultra-low basketball shoes—his gear was impeccable, though his persistent misses were rather hard on the eyes.

Lin Lang smiled to himself, dressed in casual clothes, and walked over.

As he reached the sidelines, Wan Cong’s latest shot clanged off the rim and bounced toward Lin Lang, who picked up the ball as Wan Cong turned to look.

They exchanged a glance, and Lin Lang mimed a shooting gesture. Wan Cong nodded slightly.

Seeing this, Lin Lang bent his knees, arched his back—a good half-court’s distance from the basket—gauged his strength, then powered upward, channeling all energy into his hands at the peak of his jump.

With confidence and decisiveness, he released the ball, and it soared far toward the hoop.

Both men’s eyes followed the ball as it flew.

With a crisp swish, the ball fell cleanly through the net.

Heaven was on his side. Lin Lang smiled.

Wan Cong smiled too.

Such a lucky shot was rare, worth a smile in its own right.

Lin Lang approached Wan Cong, smiling lightly: “Brother, care to shoot around together?”

Wan Cong smiled back and nodded.

Lin Lang had known he would agree—privately, Wan Cong was just an easygoing, ordinary young man, never arrogant or overbearing.

At the same time, Wan Cong glanced at the bodyguard standing by the court: dressed in black, not particularly tall, but with sharp eyes.

After observing Lin Lang for a moment, the bodyguard nodded to Wan Cong.

All clear.

Lin Lang and Wan Cong then stood on opposite sides of the basket, each practicing their shots.

The difference was, Lin Lang’s accuracy was impressive, with many swishes, while Wan Cong’s remained glaringly poor.

Staring at the basketball in his hands—a companion through his overseas college years—Wan Cong aimed carefully, then shot with utmost seriousness.

The ball circled the rim several times, then spun out.

Wan Cong gave a wry smile, thinking, “Today really isn’t my day for basketball.”

He turned and walked away, calling loudly over his shoulder, “Brother, you keep practicing, I’m heading off.”

The bodyguard followed at once.

Watching Wan Cong’s turning figure and hearing his words, Lin Lang sighed gently: “Still as willful as ever…”

He immediately called out, “Wan Cong, wait up, I have something to discuss with you.”

Wan Cong’s expression shifted slightly, but he neither turned nor stopped.

Lin Lang called again, “The three moles from ‘A Chinese Odyssey’.”

Wan Cong’s raised left foot slowly settled back to the ground. He turned, puzzled, to look at Lin Lang.