Chapter Thirty-Five: Influence

A week later, at 7:00 in the evening.

As usual, at this hour each day, many people switched on their televisions to watch the national news program. Among them, some tuned in to stay informed about major events, others to catch up on current affairs, and for many, turning on the TV at this specific time had simply become a habit.

They had one thing in common: most were the pillars of their families, with children still in school or elders who, despite their accomplishments, never ceased to keep abreast of the nation's situation and developments.

Take Manager Zhang, for instance, now seated in front of the television.

Nearly forty, Manager Zhang was a client manager at a bank. His colleagues invariably addressed him by his title, and he had held this position for seven or eight years. Employees came and went—some promoted, others leaving for greener pastures—but his designation remained unchanged.

He understood he had little room for advancement, that the age for starting anew had long passed. The only consolation was that he had mastered his current role, and the higher-ups treated him well enough.

But who doesn’t wish to rise higher? Alas, his educational qualifications simply weren’t enough.

In recent years, the bank’s requirements regarding formal education had grown ever more stringent. Save for existing employees whose positions remained unchanged, anyone aspiring to a higher post now needed a matching original degree. Adult education credentials simply didn’t count.

At the same time, the bank offered excellent terms to newly recruited university and graduate students—the higher the degree, the higher the starting salary, and the shorter the path to promotion.

Watching those who once worked under him now stand as his equals, soon to surpass him, left Manager Zhang with mixed feelings. The days when hard work and cleverness alone could guarantee advancement were gone for good. He was increasingly aware that in this era, education was truly indispensable.

Without a degree, one could hardly take a step in society—unless, of course, one started a business. But entrepreneurship was hardly as simple as it sounded.

Because of all this, Manager Zhang had early on mapped out a path for his only son, young Zhang: to pursue education to the fullest.

Now, with the high school entrance exam approaching and his son about to graduate, Manager Zhang had no worries about his performance. With his strict supervision, getting into a top-tier high school would be no problem at all. At this moment, he was weighing whether to enroll his son in an English course for the summer, or perhaps a math class.

It never occurred to him to take his son on a trip or let him rest; in his mind, such indulgences could wait until after the college entrance exam.

Yet today’s news program made the slightest, almost negligible, dent in his unwavering conviction.

"A new initiative encourages cultivating children’s interests from a young age, helping them find mentors," the newsreader announced.

Within seconds, the broadcast moved on, but Manager Zhang had already caught the key message.

Interests! Mentors!

He couldn’t help but laugh aloud. Could such things put food on the table? Mentors—what was this, ancient times?

Glancing at his son, already finished with dinner and diligently studying in the office, Manager Zhang felt ever more certain that, one day, his son would understand the painstaking care behind his father’s decisions.

Many others shared Manager Zhang’s outlook—perhaps Manager Li, or Director Chen...

Some had little education themselves and hoped their children would become learned, avoiding their own mistakes. Some hadn’t thought it through at all; since everyone else agreed schooling was good, their own children mustn’t be left behind. Others understood well the practical value of education—that a degree was a passport to a stable future, a safeguard against hunger, whatever life might bring...

Yet, without exception, these parents never listened to their children’s own thoughts, nor ventured into their inner worlds. They believed that acting in their children’s best interests was enough.

There were, however, a few “enlightened” parents, who smiled in satisfaction at that news segment. They wouldn’t let their children forgo schooling entirely to pursue whatever they wished, nor would they insist on nothing but study. Their relationship with their children resembled friendship more than strict parenthood.

They agreed: at school, study seriously; outside, play joyfully. In their free time, children could pursue their own interests—games, within reason, without addiction; sports, the more the better; arts, with persistence, never giving up halfway.

Children from such families might not always top their classes, but they were never far behind. Most importantly, their childhoods were happy and free from pressure.

Interestingly, such parents were themselves usually well-educated.

People are different; everyone has their own ideas, and a single news item cannot easily alter years of conviction.

Yet to those in the media, it was more than a simple piece of news. Anything featured in the national news was an object of close attention. Especially since this time, it was about a website.

“Quick, find out what this ‘Mentor’s Portal’ is all about!” Editors at newspapers and web portals hastened to instruct their staff.

Some realized that perhaps a new era was about to begin.

By the next morning, every major newspaper carried reports on this website that had appeared out of nowhere just months earlier.

At last, it had entered the public consciousness, and its philosophy sparked wide debate across society.

There were supporters, admirers, detractors, skeptics—every possible viewpoint.

Unbeknownst to him, Li Zecheng discovered that the number of registered “apprentices” on the Mentor’s Portal had already surpassed ten million, and there were nearly ten thousand “mentors.” Many apprentices had even reached the qualifications to take on a mentor.

It seemed there would always be those who knew their dreams and set out early in pursuit.

Time moved to June 20th.

The Mentor’s Portal, founded by Lin Lang, had reached a stable and mature state. During this period, he had visited the company once to discuss the establishment of a “basketball system.”

As for Lin Nan, his son and the founder’s child, he had just finished writing the essay portion of his high school entrance exam in Chinese, reviewed his answers from start to finish, then rested his head on his hand and gazed fixedly at the basketball hoops outside the window.

For the subsequent math and science exams, Lin Nan was in much the same state: finishing quickly, double-checking, then daydreaming at the sight of the basketball court outside.

Six months of meticulous study had given Lin Nan a rock-solid foundation; the exam questions were simply flexible applications of what he had learned, and he was no fool—he felt confident about his scores in these subjects.

As for politics and history, those were open-book exams, nothing to worry about, and sports—well, basketball was Lin Nan’s daily ritual.

The only uncertainty—no, the only consistently weak spot—was English.

Lin Nan wondered why his father never taught him English. Did he have something against it?

Not that it mattered. Lin Nan had never liked English anyway, and even if his scores lagged, his overall results were more than enough to get him into Qingshui No. 1 High School.

Thus, the two days of exams passed uneventfully; to Lin Nan, it was like any other day.

He continued to train on the basketball court at dawn before the morning exam, and at dusk after the afternoon session, just as he always had.

Once the exams were over, Lin Nan dedicated even more time to basketball, inspired by having just finished watching “Slam Dunk” on his computer.

The twenty thousand shots of Hanamichi Sakuragi, the hundreds of thousands of shots by Rukawa Kaede, Mitsui Hisashi’s bitter regret over two years wasted...

Lin Nan grasped a fundamental truth: basketball required talent, but even more so, perseverance and sweat.

A minute of glory on the stage is bought by ten years of toil behind the scenes.

Only through endless drills could one achieve effortless grace in competition.

Crossovers, spins, dribbling between the legs, behind-the-back, pull-up jumpers, fadeaways...

Every day, Lin Nan practiced these skills repeatedly, combining them in sequences—crossover to pull-up, spin to fadeaway.

Through relentless training and integration, he honed his ability to dominate on the court.

Lin Lang once asked his son if he wanted to travel anywhere for the summer, to have some fun.

Lin Nan considered it, but decided he’d rather dedicate his summer entirely to basketball training, as there was nowhere in particular he longed to visit.

So Lin Lang respected his son’s wish. Lin Nan was growing up, and Lin Lang hoped that, from now on, his son would make and own his own decisions. Independence should be cultivated from childhood.

Meanwhile, Lin Lang once again set out for the capital, the nation’s political and cultural heart.

In a grand conference room, Lin Lang, Zhou Huaxing, Yao Ming, and a representative from the Sports Administration sat facing each other.

At their first meeting, Zhou Huaxing was already deeply impressed by Lin Lang—calm, composed, and utterly unafraid, which explained how he’d accomplished the feat of founding the Mentor’s Portal.

After all, the other three gathered here were people of significant standing, yet Lin Lang showed no sign of being intimidated.

Barely in his thirties, he clearly had a promising future.

In truth, Lin Lang felt not the slightest discomfort. On the contrary, there was a sense of kinship.

After all, in his previous life, he had known both Yao Ming and the official from the Sports Administration.

Back then, Lin Lang was known as “Coach Wolf,” the most renowned coach in the CBA. Every team he led invariably won the league championship.

His understanding of basketball was profound—he could maximize each player’s strengths and adjust tactics according to the opponent’s lineup.

Every player he coached respected him deeply.

Even NBA teams had come to China to invite him to coach, but by then Lin Lang was old, his beloved son Lin Nan had long since passed away, and he had no heart to leave his homeland.

Thus, it was not surprising that Lin Lang, active in the CBA, knew Yao Ming and the Sports Administration officials.

This time, everything was unfolding as Lin Lang had always dreamed, even surpassing his expectations in every respect.

At last, after thorough discussion, the four finalized the arrangements for establishing the basketball system.