Chapter 2

Zhou Shuo thought for a moment and said with a bitter smile, "What are you thinking, girl? You’re even defending me. Don’t put your mind to this. The teacher’s work doesn’t need your concern. Focus on your studies."

In the end, his sense of dignity as a teacher made him abandon this thought. He was a teacher; how could he let these innocent children be exposed to the complexities and darkness of society so early?

"I’m 17 years old!" He Youyou pouted in protest, "Isn’t it just about using connections and backdoor channels? Isn’t that how society works? Do you think I don’t understand anything?"

Zhou Shuo, torn between laughter and tears, scolded, "It’s not as simple as you think, and it’s not about using connections and backdoor channels! I don’t know where you learned such things at your age. Be careful, or I’ll talk to your parents."

He Youyou, annoyed, said, "Hmph, Mr. Zhou, you really are like a dog biting Lü Dongbin, not recognizing a good deed when you see one."

"Alright, alright, thank you for your concern, but you should focus on your studies. The final exams are coming up, and you shouldn’t be thinking about adult matters."

After finally persuading He Youyou to leave, Zhou Shuo sat alone in the computer lab. Leaning his head against the window, he looked down at the playground, pondering his next move.

In his previous life, when Zhou Shuo experienced these events, he was just a young and inexperienced teacher, being pushed around by fate. Although these things happened to him, he didn’t really understand the ins and outs.

Gao Shuai? Strange, did He Youyou tell him this name?

Zhou Shuo tried to organize his thoughts but found the information in his memory to be extremely limited. It was as if this event had never happened to him. He only had a vague recollection of the process: rumors had been circulating for a long time that he would be replaced, then someone from the Education Bureau came to observe his class, and before the final exams, the school notified him of his transfer.

But the name Gao Shuai, he clearly saw it in the online classmate directory. Later, his classmates criticized Gao Shuai for his lackluster performance as a computer teacher, just reading from the textbook, letting students play Minesweeper and Solitaire, and not managing the class at all...

As for what backdoor channels Gao Shuai used and what tricks he played behind the scenes...

He had no interest in finding out. Zhou Shuo had always been indifferent to interpersonal relationships and the petty machinations of others. After all, he was young and believed that talent would shine wherever it was.

Of course, his stubborn personality hadn’t changed in twenty years. If this place doesn’t want me, there will be another place that does. If no place wants me, I’ll go into business!

At this moment, Zhou Shuo was more focused on whether he should stay at No. 2 High School as a teacher. For others, going into business might be a scary choice, but for him, it was a broad and smooth path. Even if he just lived off his savings, buying some stocks and real estate, he wouldn’t have to worry about food and drink for the rest of his life.

But in life, if you don’t have to struggle for survival, you should still have some pursuits, right?

Going into business? Zhou Shuo recalled Li Baozhi’s words.

"The mission of the group has always been one: 'to make money!'"

Make money, and then be controlled by money, becoming a slave to it, and forgetting your life’s ideals?

Sorry, Zhou Shuo wasn’t that kind of person. If his ideals could be bought with money, it would take an astronomical amount. Who could earn 200 billion dollars alone? And even if they did, without enough talent, his ideals couldn’t be realized.

Yes! Zhou Shuo clenched his fist, thinking angrily. Does China lack money in the future? It doesn’t. But China’s chip manufacturing still lags behind the United States, Japan, and South Korea. Why? Because it lacks talent!

He made a vow in his heart: I will start from here. This time, I will achieve my ideals in a different way!

This spacious computer lab was Zhou Shuo’s private domain. When there were no classes, few people would disturb him. After sitting there for the whole afternoon, he had many thoughts, but still hadn’t decided how to deal with Gao Shuai’s challenge.

The next day was Saturday, and Zhou Shuo got up early. 1994 was the first year to implement a two-day weekend. However, Zhou Shuo had organized a computer interest group at No. 2 High School, with activities scheduled for Saturday mornings. He couldn’t help but sigh, being a teacher was no easy task!

Riding his big 28-inch bicycle, Zhou Shuo went straight to the computer lab. When he pushed the door open, more than ten students were already sitting in front of the computers waiting for him.

"Brother Zhou is here!" "Good morning, Brother Zhou!" "Good morning, Mr. Zhou!"

The students greeted him as he entered. The interest group was different from formal classes. Zhou Shuo hoped to create a relaxed atmosphere. Here, they were just people with similar interests, no teachers, no students, only friends.

Before he could even sit down, a boy raised his hand and shouted, "Brother Zhou, come here, I have a question. Look at this Tower of Hanoi game I wrote. How should I define these variables..."

"Brother Zhou, I have a question too. How should I set up this function call in the subroutine?"

"Explain it to me first, Mr. Zhou! This recursive algorithm is driving me crazy!"

Zhou Shuo wiped the non-existent sweat from his forehead and raised his hands in surrender, "Take it easy, I’m not Sun Wukong, I can’t split into eight pieces!"

Zhou Shuo explained computer knowledge to the students one by one. He didn’t force them to learn specific things but let them choose what they were interested in, so the problems they faced were varied. After walking around the lab, he couldn’t help but marvel at the students’ talent.

Perhaps their programming wasn’t standard, their knowledge wasn’t solid, and their skills weren’t proficient. But this couldn’t hide the occasional flashes of creativity in their programs. They had boundless imagination, which meant they had infinite possibilities.

Seeing them, Zhou Shuo felt like he saw the dawn of his ideals.

Zhou Shuo sat back at the teacher’s computer, the only new 486 in the lab, which was much better than the old 386s. However, there was no switch in the lab, and the 386s didn’t have network cards. His so-called teacher’s computer couldn’t control the students’ computers like the ones in the future.

After walking around, he saw that the systems on the dozen or so computers had various issues due to the students’ unfamiliarity. But because the problems were different, there was no quick way to restore a functional system. This made Zhou Shuo miss the one-click restore feature of future computers. Actually, this feature wasn’t complicated; it just required data compression and restoration, with no special requirements for computer performance.

He had just started to have some ideas and hadn’t written a few letters when the door to the lab suddenly opened. Zhou Shuo looked up and saw a balding middle-aged man walk in. He quickly stood up and said, "Director, why are you here?"

The man was named Gao Wendong, the head of the teaching department at No. 2 High School. Hearing Zhou Shuo’s words, he frowned and said, "What, I can’t come here?"

Zhou Shuo scratched his head and laughed, "I didn’t mean that. It’s Saturday today, and it’s rare to see you at school."

Gao Wendong’s face darkened even more and retorted, "So you’re saying I’m not enthusiastic about my work?"

Zhou Shuo, feeling annoyed, laughed self-deprecatingly, "I’m just a clumsy talker, Director, don’t take it to heart."

Gao Wendong looked at Zhou Shuo meaningfully and said, "You should be careful. Being a good teacher requires more than just being clumsy with words."

Before Zhou Shuo could understand the deeper meaning of Gao Wendong’s words, he turned to look at the students in the lab and asked, "What’s going on here? Why are there so many students in the lab?"

Zhou Shuo quickly answered, "This is our computer interest group activity."

Gao Wendong scanned the lab and said to Zhou Shuo, "Zhou Teacher, I’m not saying this to criticize you, but this is a critical time. You’re still holding interest group activities? The students should be focusing on reviewing their cultural subjects to prepare for the upcoming final exams. How can you add to their burden?"

Zhou Shuo was taken aback and said, "But the students are very enthusiastic about learning. I can’t stop them from learning, can I?"

Zhou Shuo couldn’t help but feel puzzled. Although the final exams were approaching, all the students in his interest group were in the first year of high school, and their academic load wasn’t as heavy as those in the second and third years. The teaching department’s reach seemed a bit too long.

"Ridiculous! Do you have any sense of the bigger picture?" Gao Wendong glared at Zhou Shuo and said, "Courses like yours should give way to cultural subjects at critical times, and you should actively reduce the time you take from the students’ study time. Don’t you understand this?"

Zhou Shuo frowned and countered, "Director, I think learning computer knowledge is also very important. The future society will be an information society, and not knowing computers is almost the same as being illiterate..."

"Enough! Don’t say another word!" Gao Wendong rudely interrupted Zhou Shuo and coldly said, "Is the college entrance exam about computers? You’re just a part-time teacher. Even if computers are important in society, in school, they come after cultural subjects. Computer classes are just part of quality education, like music and art. Only the subjects that can get you into college are important, not these miscellaneous courses. You need to understand this!"

Gao Wendong’s words left Zhou Shuo speechless. He didn’t oppose the emphasis on cultural subjects, but these students were only in the first year of high school and had plenty of time to learn things they were interested in, rather than being buried in mountains of homework too early. But he was facing the head of the teaching department, who set the teaching plan. How could he argue with him?

Gao Wendong turned to the students, who were nervously watching the two of them, and said sternly, "Since you’re all here today, don’t go home. Go to a classroom and study on your own!"