Chapter 63: The Village Teacher

Making strides too fast can easily lead to a setback.

However, Zheng Fei had no intention of missing this opportunity to launch a periodical, because the present was the absolute best time to establish one.

At this juncture, any official unit could apply for a publication license, and approval was relatively easy to secure.

If he missed this golden application window, once the authorities realized there were too many bizarre and unorthodox magazines emerging, they would immediately start tightening the issuance of publication permits.

Applying at that later stage would not be nearly as simple. Zheng Fei planned to have Editor-in-Chief Mo secure the publication license for the *King of Drawing* periodical first.

Once the license was acquired, whether it would be published semi-annually or monthly was entirely up to them to decide.

......

Wearing a heavy cotton-padded jacket, Zheng Fei sat before his desk, the tip of his fountain pen tapping lightly against the tabletop as he lost himself in thought.

In the island nation, a single serialized issue of *Weekly Shonen Jump* contained nearly twenty stories, spanning over five hundred pages.

Zheng Fei’s ambition was not yet that grand. When the comic magazine was eventually approved, he planned to start by serializing four or five comic titles.

Each issue only needed to be a little over a hundred pages long. Right now, however, his primary objective was accumulation; aside from *Fung Wan*, Zheng Fei intended to produce two more comic books this year.

Yet over the past few days, Zheng Fei had also considered an immense number of subjects, as there were countless works from his past life that had achieved massive popularity.

Titles like *Fox Spirit Matchmaker*, *Zhu Xian*, and *Chinese Paladin* had all crossed his mind, but some of these works were far too avant-garde, while others involved immortals and demons.

Although the creative environment of this era was relatively relaxed, the explosive success of *Fung Wan* had already strained the nerves of quite a few traditional lianhuanhua (traditional Chinese comic book) artists.

There was no help for it; after all, modern comic books and traditional lianhuanhua were direct competitors in the same market, and a battle to the finish inevitably meant a life-and-death struggle.

One could only say that the ensuing bloodshed would only grow increasingly fierce. Therefore, when it came to selecting a theme, Zheng Fei had to exercise the utmost caution, ideally choosing one that would leave his detractors with no angle to attack.

Zheng Fei had also considered that martial arts films were currently the most popular genre of the era, and he could easily produce a martial arts comic. For instance, he was quite fond of Tony Wong's *The Four Great Constables* series.

Yet drawing comics based on his works required explicit authorization, and at this particular point in time, that author was likely being slandered by the Taiwan authorities.

The Taiwan authorities had confiscated a copy of *Ming Pao Monthly* from the Shenzhou Poetry Society that he had founded.

The issue contained poems by the Great Leader, alongside works by Ba Jin, Cao Yu, Shen Congwen, and others, and they had also seized a bottle of Yunnan Baiyao.

Consequently, they had slapped him with the charge of "propaganda for bandits," and it was estimated that he had yet to be released.

If Zheng Fei remembered correctly, however, it should be within this very year that Tony Wong would travel to Hong Kong to develop his career, provided he successfully secured a spot on the delegation tour.

Upon arriving in Hong Kong, Zheng Fei truly wished to meet this grandmaster. Securing the comic adaptation rights would undoubtedly be the ideal outcome.

It was no exaggeration to say that if *The Four Great Constables* series were adapted into a comic, it could sustain them for a very long time—and *Cold Blood* was also part of this very universe.

......

After pondering for a long time, Zheng Fei decided upon a theme that his rivals would find difficult to criticize. Coincidentally, Zheng Fei was an avid fan of Liu Cixin and had always longed to adapt his science fiction into a comic.

Now that he had crossed over and been reborn, wasn't this the perfect opportunity?

*The Rural Teacher* could arguably be considered one of Zheng Fei’s absolute favorite short stories. The spine-tingling sensation he felt, in particular, when the children finally recited Newton's three laws of motion at the end, was unforgettable.

On a personal level, the impact *The Rural Teacher* delivered to Zheng Fei far surpassed Liu Cixin's later masterpiece, *The Three-Body Problem*.

Furthermore, the protagonist of this short story was a rural teacher—a truly great rural teacher.

With so many protective buffs stacked in its favor, even if that person surnamed Jiang wanted to tear into his work again, he would have to think twice about whether he dared risk the wrath of the entire teaching profession.

Zheng Fei tapped his fountain pen a few times, then immediately set about outlining the entire narrative, deleting and replacing plot elements that did not fit the era.

......

Just as Zheng Fei put pen to paper, a senior high school student at Yangquan No. 1 High School in Shanxi was listening attentively to his teacher's lecture.

Hidden inside his desk drawer, however, was a copy of Arthur C. Clarke's *2001: A Space Odyssey*.

Ever since the night he finished reading that book, the starry sky in his eyes had become entirely different from the past.

At the same time, he had already begun secretly writing science fiction, though his writing was not yet very good, and he dared not show it to anyone else.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Accompanied by a knock on the door, Zheng Shuyao called out excitedly from outside, "Brother, Father wrote back to us! It's addressed to you."

Zheng Fei disliked having his train of thought interrupted while he was creating, but hearing that Zheng Yuanshan had written to him still touched a chord.

When he opened the bedroom door, Zheng Shuyao was brimming with excitement, her smile so radiant it seemed ready to overflow.

The envelope was still unsealed.

Looking at the slightly awkward handwriting on the envelope, Zheng Fei guessed that Zheng Yuanshan’s right hand probably hadn't fully recovered yet and still couldn't write smoothly.

Zheng Fei tore open the envelope. This time, there was only a single sheet of letter paper, and just like last time, some money was tucked inside.

Yet the amount was noticeably less than before—just two five-yuan bills and a few one-yuan bills.

Zheng Fei had already heard from his younger sister that the family's financial situation was poor; even the money for her train ticket had been borrowed from relatives.

He had mailed a hundred yuan last time, and now they had sent over a dozen yuan. They must have sent him virtually all their worldly possessions.

......

*To see these words is to see me:*

*The moment I received Shuyao's letter, I was deeply moved. No doubt you have already heard from Shuyao about my fall from the horse.*

*For a long time, I desperately wanted to write to you, but I couldn't even manage the simplest task of holding a pen.*

*......*

*......*

*Xiao Fei, thank you so much for taking in Shuyao. Shuyao tells me you've already published a comic book that's even better than traditional lianhuanhua.*

*Your father is truly thrilled and so proud of you. I long to come back and see you, but you need not worry too much about my health.*

*Under Aisha's care, my condition has improved this year, and I can now walk using crutches.*

*......*

*......*

At the very end of the letter, Zheng Yuanshan wrote: *Xiao Fei, could you mail a copy of your comic book to me? This failing father of yours truly wants to know just how extraordinary his son has become.*

Zheng Fei had originally harbored deep resentment toward this father of his, but ever since hearing Zheng Shuyao recount his ordeal, he had fallen into a prolonged silence.

Truth be told, after enduring so much, the mere fact that he was still alive required immense courage. For an artist, the most terrifying thing imaginable was never being able to hold a pen again.

"Brother, what did Father say in the letter?"

Zheng Shuyao widened her eyes, desperate to know the contents.

Zheng Fei glanced at her, then couldn't help but pinch her uptight little nose. "Father wrote to tell you to study hard."

"And what else?"

"To tell you to listen to me."

"I don't believe it. He must have written more than that. Let me see the letter."

"This letter is for me. Why should I show it to you?"

"Just let me take a quick look."

Because he had been far too busy lately, Zheng Fei hadn't been keeping a close eye on his younger sister's studies, and he had no idea how she had been performing.

"I heard people talking. Didn't you guys just have your mid-term exams?"

Zheng Shuyao tensed up instantly, then nodded.

Zheng Fei reached out a hand. "Where are the test papers, then?"

Zheng Shuyao squirmed awkwardly, flashing a sheepish grin. "Brother, if I didn't do well on the exams, are you going to scold me?"

"Of course not. How could I ever scold you?"

"You said it yourself."

Once Zheng Shuyao returned to her room and brought the test papers out, Zheng Fei froze in place upon seeing the scores.

He looked at the test paper, then looked at Zheng Shuyao. "Are you serious? You got a hundred on mathematics?"

Zheng Shuyao grinned broadly. "Of course it's true!"

Refusing to believe it, Zheng Fei examined the handwriting of the score closely; there were no signs of alteration.

Still skeptical, he carefully cross-referenced the test questions, and sure enough, it was a hundred marks without a doubt.

Could Zheng Shuyao genuinely be a genius? What Zheng Fei didn't know was that watching him burn the midnight oil to draw comics had equally inspired Zheng Shuyao, who also studied late into the night before going to sleep.

Her math grade was stellar, but her scores in other subjects lagged somewhat behind: she had only managed 87 in Chinese, botany had barely scraped a passing grade, while ideological politics and history were respectable.

For a transfer student who had never attended primary school, this performance far exceeded his expectations; he had fully anticipated she would be trailing at the bottom of the class.

Never had he imagined she would land comfortably in the upper-middle tier, with mathematics pulling far ahead of the rest. Seeing that she had tested so well, Zheng Fei smiled and said:

"Let's skip cooking tonight. Your brother is taking you out for pork cutlets."

"Yay!"