Chapter Thirty-Three: Reform (Part One)

“So how should we go about reforming it?” Li Zecheng softly voiced the most crucial question.

Wan Cong waited eagerly at his side; neither of them showed any particular excitement. Reform was indeed a sacred undertaking, but it was by no means simple—and Lin Lang had already discussed similar matters with them several times before. For now, the most important task was figuring out how to make parents accept ShishuoNet, and how to attract a large number of qualified teachers.

Zhou Huaxing’s smile was full of meaning as he turned to Li Zecheng and said, “Surely your Director Lin gave you some instructions upon learning of my arrival?”

Li Zecheng paused briefly, then smiled. “Nothing escapes your attention, Elder Zhou.”

He then turned his laptop screen toward Zhou Huaxing. On it, a document displayed two lines:

CCTV1: Advertisement.

CCTV10: Education Feature.

Simple words, yet the most direct and effective method.

Zhou Huaxing understood perfectly well the weight that CCTV News carried in the hearts of the Chinese people—and so did Lin Lang. If a company or brand advertised on CCTV, it meant it had passed rigorous scrutiny and was highly trustworthy. Conversely, if a company was singled out for criticism by CCTV, its reputation would plummet.

In this era, before smartphones had become ubiquitous as they would in later years, television was still the primary pastime for most people. The evening news after dinner, the scheduled dramas before bed—perhaps the younger generation watched TV less frequently, with the internet holding much more appeal for them, but parents still made up the majority of viewers. And in China, it was always the adults who decided family matters and disciplined the children. The children themselves had little say, and could change little.

Lin Lang’s plan was clear: first, advertise on CCTV Channel 1, so that parents would become aware of, interact with, and eventually trust ShishuoNet—while also attracting teachers. Then, on CCTV Channel 10, also known as the Science and Education Channel, collaborate to launch an educational program—introducing the charms of various professions, documenting the hardships and eventual triumphs of those chasing their dreams.

“A stroke of genius—killing two birds with one stone! Your Director Lin is a born educator. I wonder when I’ll have the pleasure of meeting him. If ShishuoNet truly succeeds, it will be a great blessing for our country!” Zhou Huaxing withdrew his gaze from the laptop and looked at Li Zecheng.

Li Zecheng smiled. “We’ll take your good wishes to heart, Elder Zhou. Director Lin will come by after his son finishes the high school entrance exam—you’ll definitely meet. He’s long admired you, knows of your immense contributions to education, and is aware that you volunteer to teach in Longyang Village every year.”

“Oh?” Zhou Huaxing was visibly surprised.

Longyang Village was a remote, unknown mountain village in Sichuan Province, one among countless impoverished villages in the region. Earthquakes were frequent, and many families had been torn apart. By chance, Zhou Huaxing had come to Longyang during the post-disaster reconstruction; the village was home to dozens of children who had lost their parents.

He witnessed their lonely yet resilient lives—children barely eleven or twelve working in the fields, those of seven or eight helping where they could. Life was harsh and poor, yet whenever kind-hearted outsiders brought them good food, new clothes, toys, or schoolbags, their faces would light up with radiant smiles.

Counting this year, Zhou Huaxing had volunteered as a teacher in Longyang for four years, spending a month each year there. Though the living conditions were spartan, he didn’t mind—for he had grown up the same way. Every time he heard the children cheerfully call him “Grandpa Zhou,” he felt a deep happiness.

Yet he was puzzled how Director Lin had learned of this. His volunteer teaching was a well-kept secret; only the villagers and his fellow volunteers knew. After spending time together, everyone knew his identity, but they’d all agreed not to spread the word.

Could it be that Director Lin was one of them? But Zhou Huaxing couldn’t recall anyone fitting that description. No matter—for Zhou Huaxing, Lin Lang’s standing rose even higher.

Seeing the earnest gaze of the two young men before him, Zhou Huaxing smiled, “Rest assured. I’ll call a meeting as soon as I return and help connect you to the right people at CCTV.”

“Thank you, Elder Zhou!”

“Thank you so much!”

Wan Cong and Li Zecheng’s faces lit up with excitement. Although Wan Cong had already secured Jay Chou’s endorsement, that was aimed at the youth. In China, it was the parents who determined their children’s future. If the CCTV plan succeeded, the day ShishuoNet would become a household name would not be far off.

Afterward, the two young men warmly saw Zhou Huaxing off to his flight.

All along the way, Zhou Huaxing’s assistant was filled with curiosity—since when had Elder Zhou and these two young men become so close?

…

QS County, Cozy Home Community, in the study of a certain residence.

Lin Lang was reading Li Zecheng’s message bearing good news: a simple hand gesture—OK.

A gratified smile spread across Lin Lang’s face. Though he had been almost certain of success, he couldn’t help but feel elated when it was finally achieved.

In his previous life, Lin Lang had known of Zhou Huaxing—a respected elder in education, though by then he had already passed away, and Lin Lang had learned his story through the news. It was then that Zhou’s annual teaching in Longyang Village became public knowledge.

According to past events, Zhou Huaxing lived to the age of ninety, teaching in Longyang for thirty years. The children he had once taught all grew up.

Could anyone imagine someone volunteering to teach in a poor, remote mountain village for a month every year—for thirty years? And those thirty years spanned from age sixty to ninety! Unimaginable! Who wouldn’t prefer a comfortable retirement, enjoying a life of leisure? Yet Zhou Huaxing devoted his entire life to education and to the next generation, teaching until his final breath.

Truly, he was the most diligent gardener tending the flowers of China’s future. Lin Lang couldn’t help but feel ashamed in comparison.

When Zhou Huaxing’s volunteer teaching was made public, countless Chinese were left speechless. Many young people, who rushed back after a week of volunteering and then flaunted it everywhere, wished they could crawl into a crack in the ground, unable to hide their shame.

The young live for reputation; the old live for action. What a lament for society!

And so, in this life, Lin Lang was determined to step forward sooner. The reason he pushed the creation and development of ShishuoNet so quickly was time.

The greatness of any nation required the accumulation of time—an accumulation made up of progressive development policies, solid fundamental infrastructure, and the continuous cultivation of talent.

It was this last—the cultivation of talent—that Lin Lang was determined to dedicate himself to. He wanted, within his own lifetime, or even within Elder Zhou’s, to help his country establish a flawless educational system, one that would nurture countless outstanding individuals and make China the world’s most powerful nation.

...

The next day, Beijing, Ministry of Education Building.

Inside the conference room on the eighth floor, a group of middle-aged and elderly officials in their fifties and sixties sat around a stately redwood table—all senior executives within the Ministry.

At the head of the table sat Minister Zhou Huaxing.

“In recent years, the implementation of nine-year compulsory education has been largely successful on a broad scale. Now we have two tasks before us. First, to fully expand it nationwide, so that every child can attend school—whether they are born in the countryside or the city, in the mountains or on the plains. As long as they are Chinese, they should receive the education suitable for their age.”

He paused to sip from his cup of cooled boiled water before continuing, “Second, reform. We all know that reform is a massive undertaking, entailing enormous effort and expense—it cannot be accomplished overnight. For now, please look at the detailed introduction to ShishuoNet on the laptops in front of you. This will be the first step in our reform direction.”

At his words, the seasoned professionals present all turned to their laptops and began reading.

With the progress of the times, their tools had advanced too; compared to the books of decades ago, computers were indeed more efficient.

Soon, everyone had gained a preliminary understanding of ShishuoNet. Of course, some were already familiar with it, though they had kept silent.

Zhou Huaxing was well aware that every department had its factions, and his was no exception. It was not a matter of right or wrong, but of differing philosophies. People would always have their own ideas; it was impossible for everyone to think alike.

But this time, no one could block his resolve for reform—and he already knew who would oppose him.

Sure enough, the expected voice spoke up.

“Minister Zhou, while the grand vision painted by ShishuoNet is impressive, and all the ideas are well-founded and thoroughly considered, in practice it would require an enormous investment of manpower, material resources, and funding. For starters, not every household even owns a computer. Then, requiring every middle and high school—even elementary schools—to set up all kinds of clubs and hire various specialized teachers, along with the necessary sports, music, and other equipment, how much would that cost? Our country’s economic strength has grown, but there are still so many areas in need of funding—military, science and technology, even basic infrastructure still lags behind developed countries. Is it really appropriate to invest so heavily in education now? Would it even deliver immediate results?”

Vice Minister Zhang’s practical remarks prompted many around the table to nod in agreement, though Zhou Huaxing had anticipated these objections.

He answered at once, “Indeed, investment in education is always a long-term endeavor. But is education not the most important foundation of a nation? Has everyone forgotten Liang Qichao’s ‘On Young China’?

‘If the youth are wise, the nation will be wise; if the youth are rich, the nation will be rich; if the youth are strong, the nation will be strong; if the youth are independent, the nation will be independent; if the youth are free, the nation will be free; if the youth advance, the nation will advance; if the youth surpass Europe, the nation will surpass Europe; if the youth dominate the world, the nation will dominate the world!’

Each of us here was once young—thanks to the nation’s careful nurturing, we were able to achieve and give back to our country.

Yes, China has made tremendous progress, and in many fields is now a global leader. But our education has already fallen too far behind.

Once, Premier Zhou said, ‘Study for the rise of China,’ giving countless students a clear and visible goal, motivating them to work hard and achieve. That’s how we managed, from almost nothing, to develop the atomic bomb and become the third nation to send humans into space.

But now? How many children know why they study? For a diploma, for a degree? For a ticket to a good job or company? Some children do have clear goals and work hard for them, but compared to the vast size of China, they are only a tiny minority. The majority of children still have no clear vision or direction for their lives.”