How Terrifying This Young Man Is

Chang'an Fang had never read The Complete Works of Lu Xun before. In his impression, Lu Xun always wrote in vernacular Chinese, so he was a little surprised to see that the first few pieces were in classical Chinese. He flipped through them quickly and then came upon an essay titled "On the Partial Arrival of Culture." At first, he skimmed it, half translating, half guessing at the meaning, but he couldn't help turning back to read it in earnest.

Cheng Mengfei glanced at Chang'an Fang, then at Shen Mo, feeling deeply gratified. She taught Chinese language simply because it was the only subject she could teach—just following the textbook was enough. She wasn't particularly fond of reading herself, but like all parents who hadn't studied well and hoped their children would get into college, she wished for Shen Mo to develop a habit of loving books.

However, while Shen Mo was obedient enough, her interest in reading could only be called average. She mostly came to the study to play on the computer; it was rare to see her so quietly absorbed in a book. This change delighted Cheng Mengfei, making her think it was truly fortunate that her niece had such a studious, diligent, and well-mannered desk mate.

Shen Chengyan sighed in front of the computer. Cheng Mengfei went over and quietly asked, "What's wrong?"

Shen Chengyan shook his head without replying. Cheng Mengfei glanced at the screen—a jumble of graphs, lines in all sorts of colors, dizzying to look at. She didn't get involved, simply left the room, and after a while reappeared at the doorway, asking, "Chang'an, would you like some tea?"

Chang'an Fang replied, "I'm fine with anything."

Cheng Mengfei smiled and went downstairs, returning shortly with a tray holding four glass cups, each filled to about seventy percent, fragrant steam curling from them. She handed the first cup to Chang'an Fang.

"Thank you, Teacher Cheng."

The glass was a bit hot to touch, so Chang'an Fang didn't dare pick it up, instead leaning over to sniff it. "Smells wonderful."

Cheng Mengfei laughed, "It's Longjing sent by someone else, I hear it's very precious. I rarely drink it myself, but today we're lucky thanks to you."

Seeing Chang'an Fang genuinely reading The Complete Works of Lu Xun, Shen Chengyan came over for a look, drawing in a breath. "Hey, you're really reading it? I can't make sense of those first few essays."

"What?"

Cheng Mengfei divided the four cups between the two desks, two at the study table, two at the computer desk. Hearing her husband's words, she came over to look as well, surprised to see the pages filled with classical Chinese. She asked Chang'an Fang, "Can you understand it?"

Chang'an Fang smiled shyly, "Not really, I guess at half of it."

Shen Chengyan laughed, "Then why are you so serious about it?"

"I think..." Chang'an Fang hesitated, searching for words. "It's quite interesting."

"Oh?"

Shen Chengyan was intrigued, leaning closer. "Tell your uncle, what do you find interesting?"

Chang'an Fang thought for a moment. "The essay I'm reading is called 'On the Partial Arrival of Culture.' It's about... well, I'm not sure what the main theme is. But it talks about how some practices or ideas in China at the time—arrogance, the notion of being a superior nation—are wrong. Yet, fully Westernizing, holding everything Western as the standard, 'if it doesn't match Western logic, don't say it; if it doesn't match Western methods, don't do it,' that's also mistaken. Both extremes are flawed. That seems to be the main idea, though I can't say I fully understand."

He pointed to a passage, continuing, "This section seems to say that some people wanted to adopt Western democracy, arguing that ancient autocracy was the tyranny of one person, but if everything is decided democratically, with the minority always following the majority, it becomes the tyranny of the majority. Anyone who disagrees would be wiped out in a 'legitimate' way."

"I heard Grandpa talk about democracy abroad, where everyone votes for the president. It sounds..." He paused, "It seems good, but also a bit scary. Like, if our class elected a monitor or head teacher, everyone would probably choose someone who lets students talk in class, doesn't care about homework, maybe even someone who just lets us play. If everyone wants to play, then maybe those who care about discipline or studying are 'wrong,' and even those who want to study themselves might be 'wrong.'"

"Of course, countries like that must have better rules. I'm just imagining possibilities."

"And then there's material culture. If everyone only cares about material things, people's hearts get wrapped up in materialism... Teacher Cheng, does 'material' mean money?"

"Ah, more or less."

Cheng Mengfei was stunned for a long moment before collecting herself. She exchanged glances with her husband, both seeing shock and bewilderment in each other's eyes. Regaining her composure, she crouched beside Chang'an Fang, one hand on the back of his chair, looking at him, "Did you figure all this out yourself?"

Chang'an Fang smiled shyly again. "Some of it from reading, lots I didn't understand, so I guessed."

Cheng Mengfei drew a breath, wanting to say something, but for the moment couldn't find the words. She turned to her husband.

Shen Chengyan was equally baffled. The depth of thought the boy showed was beyond even his own experience. To hear such insights from a twelve-year-old, childish as some of it was, was astonishing.

He thought a moment and asked, "Do you often think about these things?"

"No," Chang'an Fang shook his head. "Only when Grandpa mentioned them before, and then just now when I saw them, they came to mind... Uncle Shen, am I not supposed to think about these things?"

"No, not at all." Shen Chengyan shook his head. "It's not that you shouldn't. I'm just surprised that someone your age thinks about so much—you... you..."

He stumbled over his words, collecting his thoughts. "What books do you usually read? What have you read?"

"Textbooks, fairy tales, martial arts novels sometimes—but not much, because those belong to Grandpa and Dad, and they won't let me read them. Yesterday at the bookstore I looked at Fortress Besieged, but didn't finish."

"That's fine."

Shen Chengyan seemed to relax. "As long as you don't read random stuff. With your mind, reading the wrong things could be trouble..."

He paused, asking his wife, "What books are required for middle school students?"

"The Four Great Classics, Robinson Crusoe, Camel Xiangzi, How the Steel Was Tempered..." Cheng Mengfei listed several titles all at once, inwardly relieved. If she hadn't recently made a book list for Shen Mo, she'd probably only have remembered the Four Great Classics.

"Start with these, finish the middle school list, then move on to the high school ones." Shen Chengyan's expression was solemn. "Lu Xun is fine, too. Just be careful about those books in the store about 'success stories' and 'life philosophy'—don't read those."

He feared Chang'an Fang would ask why, since he knew the general reason but found it hard to explain clearly. Luckily, Chang'an Fang just nodded seriously. "I understand. I won't read random stuff."

Shen Chengyan quietly breathed a sigh of relief, giving Chang'an Fang another look, and felt a spontaneous affection growing—this kid really was smart and sensible.

Shen Mo sat nearby, her bright eyes blinking, utterly bewildered.

Chang'an Fang resumed reading. Shen Chengyan and Cheng Mengfei exchanged glances—no words spoken, but their eyes conveyed the deep, unspoken shock in their hearts.

Truthfully, Chang'an Fang's performance wasn't remarkable among his contemporary peers, let alone among the dazzling stars of history. Yet the impact of a genius appearing right beside you is never quite matched by anything seen in the news.

Still, after the initial astonishment, it was just as it was—after all, he was only a child.

Cheng Mengfei had a habit of napping at midday. She stood for a while, covering her mouth to stifle a yawn, then turned to Shen Mo. "Mo Mo, do you want to sleep?"

Shen Mo tilted her head thoughtfully for a second, then nodded.

Cheng Mengfei patted her head and smiled, "No need to go back—sleep with me."

"Okay," Shen Mo nodded.

Cheng Mengfei turned to Chang'an Fang, "Chang'an, do you want to sleep?"