Chapter Nine: Confrontation

Watching the righteous indignation on his parents’ faces, Zhang Wenhao couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly. He thought to himself, usually his parents were as honest and meek as could be, but when it came to protecting their own child, they were fierce as tigers guarding their cub. The thought moved him deeply—these two were truly the only people in the world who believed in him wholeheartedly.

That afternoon, Zhang Wenhao’s parents had requested leave from work on purpose, and the three of them set out together for Jiangcheng No. 1 High School. At that moment, all the senior grade teachers were gathered in the office, preparing for the afternoon’s classes. When they saw the Zhang family arrive together, their attention was instantly drawn to them.

The senior grade director, Jia Daguo, spotted the three and brought them to his desk. He had someone fetch two extra chairs for Zhang Wenhao’s parents, who sat down while Zhang Wenhao stood by their side.

“It’s like this,” Director Jia began, “Zhang Wenhao ranked eighth in the entire grade in the recent mock exam, and even scored full marks in Mathematics and the Liberal Arts comprehensive test. This result has caused quite a stir in the school. Given that this achievement is rather extraordinary, we’d like to discuss the situation with you, as his parents.”

Zhang Xingping didn’t answer directly, but instead, with a stern face, said, “Director, I have a question I’d like to ask.”

“Please go ahead.”

Zhang Xingping countered, “Why is it that only our family was called in today? You just said my son ranked eighth, so you wanted to speak with us, which we understand. But why weren’t the parents of the students ranked first to seventh called in as well?”

“Well…” Jia Daguo forced a sheepish smile. “The main reason is that Zhang Wenhao’s improvement was simply too dramatic. From 382 points before the winter break to 678 points now. You know, senior year performance isn’t about just one semester or one year, but about the accumulation of knowledge from junior high and all through high school. At this stage, it’s almost impossible to raise one’s scores so rapidly.”

Zhang Xingping replied, “Director, no one knows their own child better than a parent. I understand Wenhao’s character inside and out. Even when his grades were poor before, he never lied to me—not about a single point. There was once he got a zero in math; he still brought the paper to me for my signature. And this winter break, Wenhao spent at least sixteen or seventeen hours a day locked in his room studying. As a father, I’ve witnessed his effort with my own eyes, but you haven’t.”

At this point, Ma Qianyong strode over, snorted coldly, and said disdainfully, “Even if someone were a genius, it would be impossible to improve this much in a single winter break, even if they studied twenty-four hours a day without eating or drinking.” Then, changing his tone to a warning, he added, “Cheating is a very serious offense. If the school finds evidence of it, the consequences will be most severe! There will be absolutely no leniency!”

Zhang Wenhao, thoroughly disgusted with Ma Qianyong, retorted, “Mr. Ma, if I said you could win a Nobel Prize, it would be impossible, wouldn’t it? Yet there are so many Nobel laureates in the world—are you saying all of them won by cheating?”

To contradict a teacher so openly in front of all the grade-level staff left Ma Qianyong unable to save face. Already fuming, he became even more incensed, pointing at Zhang Wenhao and saying, “If you claim you didn’t cheat, then let’s confront it here and now! Let’s see if there’s any truth to your results!”

Zhang Wenhao replied with a cold smile, “Very well! Mr. Ma, you teach Chinese, so you know that if you don’t memorize the textbook material, it’s hard to score high. Since you want a confrontation, please bring out last semester’s Chinese textbook. In front of all the teachers and Director Jia, you can ask me anything from the entire book, whether or not it’s a key point. If there’s even a single question I cannot answer, I’ll admit to cheating!”

“Fine!” Ma Qianyong scoffed inwardly. A textbook is packed with information and countless knowledge points; even the best students can only master the key points. For Zhang Wenhao to claim he can answer anything, whether or not it’s required, is impossible without knowing the book by heart.

Ma Qianyong pulled out last semester’s Chinese textbook and teaching guide from his drawer, flipped randomly to a page, and asked, “In Zhu Ziqing’s ‘Moonlight Over the Lotus Pond,’ can you recite the fifth paragraph?”

Without hesitation, Zhang Wenhao began, “The moonlight flows like water, quietly pouring over these leaves and flowers…” Without a moment’s pause, he recited the entire paragraph flawlessly, as if giving a formal reading. The teachers were all rendered speechless in amazement. Although many were from other subjects, hearing him respond so fluently, so seamlessly, to a random question left them in disbelief.

After finishing the entire passage, Zhang Wenhao added, “By the way, this paragraph is on page thirty-six of the textbook.”

Ma Qianyong was inwardly shocked, but still preferred to believe it was luck. He immediately found another piece: the preface to Ba Jin’s ‘Torrent.’ He asked, “‘Torrent’ says, ‘All this has formed a surging torrent, heading for a single sea.’ What does this ‘single sea’ refer to?”

As soon as he finished, several teachers crowded around to check the answer sheet in Ma’s hand, eager to see whether Zhang Wenhao could keep up. Without hesitation, Zhang Wenhao answered, “‘The single sea’ refers to the torrent’s direction and goal; it symbolizes a person’s ‘faith’ in life. ‘But I have not lost my faith: my faith in life.’ In the context of this essay, ‘the single sea’ is freedom and the pursuit of freedom.”

“It’s truly word for word…” some teachers exclaimed, checking the teaching guide.

Ma Qianyong’s palms were sweating, his legs unsteady. After fumbling for a while, he suddenly said, “Recite the full selection from ‘The Story of Su Wu’!”

A few Chinese teachers looked surprised. ‘The Story of Su Wu’ wasn’t a key text, nor was full memorization ever required; it was rarely tested, so the teachers never asked students to recite it. Clearly, Ma Qianyong was now nitpicking, deliberately making things difficult, since Zhang Wenhao had claimed he could answer any question, whether or not it was a required point.

Zhang Wenhao shot Ma Qianyong a look of utter disdain, a confident smile playing on his lips—a smile that sent beads of sweat running down Ma’s brow and back. He dreaded Zhang Wenhao actually reciting the passage, for then he’d truly lose all credibility.

At that moment, Zhang Wenhao began in a clear voice, “The law knew that Su could not be coerced, so the Chanyu… The Chanyu tried even harder to make him surrender, so he locked Su in a deep cellar…” All the teachers, including Director Jia, gathered round the textbook. Several Chinese teachers checked the text as Zhang Wenhao recited the entire passage from start to finish. Though his delivery was not impassioned, he recited every word without a single mistake.

Not a word was missed.

Zhang Wenhao looked coldly at the flustered Ma Qianyong, sneering inwardly: “You brought this humiliation on yourself.”

“A genius indeed!” an elderly Chinese teacher couldn’t help but sigh. “To have such a profound memory and understanding of the textbook—his memory is truly extraordinary! For a student like this, even a score of over seven hundred is entirely plausible.”

Director Jia nodded apologetically, walked over to Zhang Xingping, and said, “I really must apologize. What happened today has left us teachers feeling like frogs at the bottom of a well, limited by our own narrow view. On behalf of the school, I offer our apologies to Zhang Wenhao and to both of you as his parents.”

By now, Zhang Xingping was so overwhelmed with pride at his son’s astonishing memory—enough to silence the entire faculty—that he’d forgotten all about the school’s earlier suspicions. A rush of unprecedented pride and joy filled his heart.

Overjoyed, Zhang Xingping no longer wished to argue with the school. After a few polite words with Director Jia, the family of three left the office.

Director Jia personally saw them out of the building. Zhang Xingping patted Zhang Wenhao’s shoulder with delight and said, “Good son, you’ve really done your parents proud!”

Turning to Song Huafang, he added, “Wife, let’s let our boy go back to class. You and I will go to the market and get some good ingredients. Tonight, our family will have a real celebration!”

Zhang Wenhao laughed, “Dad, didn’t we already celebrate at lunch today?”

“That doesn’t count!” Zhang Xingping waved his hand. “There was no wine—how can that be a celebration? I thought I’d have to go back to work this afternoon, so I didn’t buy any. I’ll go get a good bottle now, and tonight, you and I will have a proper father-son toast!”

Zhang Wenhao could only smile and say, “Alright then, you two go ahead. I’ll skip evening study tonight and come home to drink with Dad!”

———

Tears! My dear friends, you’re reading but not voting—such heartbreak!