Chapter 80

Chapter 80

Professor Zhang, fifty-three years old, is a professor in the physics department of Peking University. He has a genial personality and students often come to him with questions about their coursework. Even though the Cultural Revolution over the past few years have left the university with few new students and the campus was almost empty, Professor Zhang still receives visits from many students during holidays.

With no students to teach, Professor Zhang spends his free time in the Peking University library. A few years ago, the Red Guards denounced these books as worthless and wanted to burn them all, but thousands of teachers and students at Peking University risked their lives to protect these precious volumes. Recently, however, Professor Zhang noticed a strange child in the library.

Old Zhang glanced again at the young girl in the distance—truly peculiar!

She was so young, probably not yet fifteen, yet she came to the university library to read? Even if she were a relative of some professor, a child her age would normally be reading classic novels. But the book in her hands was *Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy*! Old Zhang scratched his head, wanting to go over and ask, "Can you actually understand this book?"

A few days later, Professor Zhang found that the girl had switched her reading material to *The Feynman Lectures on Physics*. This was too much for Professor Zhang. If she were showing off elsewhere, he could ignore it, but in the quiet solitude of the nearly empty library, such pretension was intolerable. He decided to go and set the kid straight.

Two heavy knocks on the table broke Feng Xia's contemplation. She looked up at the visitor. It was the end of August, still a bit warm, but the old man before her was already wearing a long-sleeved work jacket and reading glasses.

His hair was gray, his face plump and kindly, yet his gaze at Feng Xia was rather complicated.

"Do you understand these books?" The old man's tone was somewhat blunt. Feng Xia put down her book and looked at him calmly. Perhaps her demeanor provoked him, and he asked bluntly, "Do you know Newton's three laws of motion?"

Feng Xia picked up a pen and wrote the answer. Her handwriting was elegant and free-flowing, impressive in its beauty, with annotations beside the letters. Old Zhang nodded—she had grasped the basics.

Then, as if testing her, Old Zhang posed increasingly difficult questions, some of which Feng Xia couldn't answer. She answered honestly, admitting when she didn't know, and got about seven out of ten correct. As she responded, the wrinkles on Old Zhang's face gradually relaxed, and by the end, he seemed to have shed years, looking at Feng Xia with immense satisfaction.

When Old Zhang finished questioning, Feng Xia opened her notebook, which listed the problems she had encountered while reading. With Old Zhang right there, he became the best teacher. True to form, he explained each one clearly and even gave her a couple of practice problems. After checking her answers, Old Zhang nodded with approval and walked away, hands clasped behind his back.

Over the following days, the two of them spent their time in the library together. Usually, they read together in the morning, and in the afternoon, Feng Xia sought Old Zhang’s guidance. Then he would give her one or two test papers to complete. Feng Xia’s reading pace accelerated. By mid-September, Old Zhang could confidently say that she was as knowledgeable as a third-year physics student at Peking University, if not more so.

Occasionally, others came to the library—although few people were at Peking University, it wasn't entirely empty—but the little corner where Feng Xia sat was almost never visited. Feng Xia assumed it was just too remote, but in reality, Old Zhang had placed a barrier sign outside. He had grown to love this student who appeared out of nowhere: smart, diligent, and flawless in every way. Just then, there was an exam that Old Zhang had to proctor. Unwilling to leave the girl behind, he simply took her to the big classroom and had her take the exam with the other students.

The classroom was sparsely populated with about a dozen students. They all knew Old Zhang well and greeted him warmly as he entered. Seeing him with a young girl, they assumed she was his relative and didn't pay much attention, though they admired her striking beauty—fair skin as white as snow.

Then they waited quietly for the exam to begin. Old Zhang seated Feng Xia in the first row, handed her a test paper, and she picked up her pen and started writing without hesitation, unfazed by the curious glances. When the other students received their papers, they were stunned, their minds racing. "Oh my god, is this little sister going to take the exam with us? Has the professor lost his mind?" They quickly composed themselves and began working. The paper was challenging for these second-year students, and they scratched their heads and squirmed like monkeys.

Only the girl in the dark green shirt at the front wrote with fluid grace, answering fluently. In just over half an hour, Feng Xia submitted her paper, then pulled out a Russian book on fluid mechanics that Old Zhang had given her. She was proficient in both English and Russian, reading and writing them without difficulty.

Old Zhang graded the papers at the lectern. Feng Xia’s answers were succinct, with not a single extra word, and her paper was neat, with almost no deductions. He gave a wry smile and gave her a score of 109, deducting one point with the comment: "Don't be proud; keep striving."

About an hour later, the other students handed in their papers at the last possible second. The back sections were incomplete, and the bonus questions were mostly unanswered. Old Zhang sighed—the Cultural Revolution had truly hindered their learning.

He looked at the students, then held up Feng Xia’s paper. "This is the correct answer sheet. Compare it with yours first, think it over, and compile the questions you don’t understand. I’ll explain them next class." Then he left with Feng Xia.

Once they were gone, the classroom buzzed like a beehive.

The male student at the front, wearing thick glasses, took the paper and spread it out. "109 points—she only lost one point. Li Hua, do you think you can get 80 this time?"

The student named Li Hua shook his head. Everyone gathered to look at the paper: clear, beautiful writing that was a pleasure to read. Suddenly, someone shouted, "But wait—she didn't make a single mistake. Why was one point deducted? Oh, I get it! The professor must have deducted a point to keep her from getting cocky. This little sister is freaking amazing! Is she the professor's granddaughter?"

A girl with sharply arched brows retorted, "Who cares who she is? We should admire her problem-solving skills. A hero is a hero no matter where they come from. She’s so young and so talented—she deserves our respect. Quick, show me how she solved the bonus questions. I have no idea."

Old Zhang had brought Feng Xia to the exam to stimulate the students, and she exceeded his expectations. Her paper was flawless. The old man sipped his tea with satisfaction, watching the girl reading across from him, his eyes and heart full of admiration. How wonderful! If he could finish teaching her, he could die with no regrets.