Before she finished speaking, children began to emerge from the water one after another, all soaking wet and wearing only their underwear. They walked past us, chatting and laughing while looking at us curiously; there were at least forty or fifty of them. In an instant, the once quiet swimming pool became as lively as a market, leaving only the petrified reporters behind.
The female reporter grabbed my hand and said, "Could I meet their teacher?"
I told her, "Their teacher doesn't come out for at least half a day or three hours at a time. We can come and see him after we've had lunch."
Everyone: "..."
After touring the four main stadiums, there wasn't much more to report. By this time, the exhausted group finally accepted my suggestion, and we drove straight back to the main gate. After circling around, we were confronted with a massive, seemingly endless wall. Several reporters simultaneously asked me, "Principal Xiao, what's this for?"
I said, "Oh, that's our teachers' dormitory area. They built this wall to prevent the kids from disturbing their rest. Students aren't usually allowed over there..." As I spoke, I froze. After driving a short distance, I saw many children sitting on the top of the wall, some eating bread, others flipping through books. The wall had become their toy rocking horse. I don't know how they got up there, it was so high.
I asked the driver to stop the car, and to avoid startling the children, I pretended to be friendly and said, "Little students, please get out first. Whose students are you?"
As soon as the unfortunate kids on the wall saw me, they shouted, "Principal Xiao is here! Run!" and jumped down one by one. I said urgently, "Hey... don't fall." You should know that the wall was two and a half meters high, like the second floor.
To my surprise, the children landed lightly and without a sound, and in the blink of an eye, they all ran off. Just as I was about to get into the car, a scene that drove me absolutely crazy unfolded: children came bounding over the wall like dumplings being dropped into a pot, like little deer. The ones who jumped high leaped over our heads and ran off, while the less agile ones apparently used a running start, paddling and kicking as they climbed up, all shouting as they jumped, "Run! Run! If the principal finds out we went over there, we'll be punished—"
After jumping past dozens of people, I finally caught one and demanded, "Whose students are you?"
The child lowered his head in fright and said, "We are Teacher Shi, and the previous group was Teacher Duan's class."
...I should have realized it sooner; it was taught by Shi Qian and Duan Tianbao!
The child whispered, "Principal Xiao, I won't do it again next time. There's really nothing at school to practice light-body skills on; the high ones are too high, and the low ones are too low..."
I stroked his head and sighed, "Do you know where you went wrong?"
"...I shouldn't have jumped over the wall."
"Wrong! Is this how your teacher taught you? Let me tell you, jumping over the wall is fine, but you shouldn't have been caught by me. Remember, if I catch you again, you'll be punished!"
The little rascal said "Yes," shrugged, and slipped out of my grasp, ducking between my legs and running away. I shrugged at the group of dumbfounded reporters and said, "Sorry for the commotion."
A local journalist said, "Principal Xiao, I know that these are similar skills to the Shaolin monks' 'Ladder Cloud Leap' and 'Gecko Climbing Wall.' Could you please demonstrate them for us? We didn't have time to take pictures earlier."
I laughed and said, "That's easy." As I spoke, I grabbed another child who had just jumped over the wall, pointed at him, and ordered, "Jump back!"
The child took a few steps back, ran up the wall, and disappeared on the other side as if walking on flat ground. The reporters flashed their cameras and applauded, finally saying in unison, "Principal Xiao, please demonstrate for us yourself!"
I waved my hand and laughed, "It's just a trivial skill, not worth promoting. Heh, not worth promoting." Meanwhile, I cursed inwardly: That's fucking ridiculous! A two-and-a-half-meter wall, even if I could climb up, how would I get down?
To prevent them from making me demonstrate again, I quickly shooed everyone back to the car and we continued walking. Before we'd gone five minutes, John and Jim suddenly started chattering excitedly. I quickly followed their gaze and saw that the wall ahead was covered in scribbles and ink splattered everywhere. My heart skipped a beat: Had they finally found a hidden corner? Was there any need for such excitement?
John jumped out of the car before it had even come to a complete stop and started banging on the wall. I said with a pained expression, "John, you have to understand. This wall is just too long, and we can't keep up with the management. It's unavoidable that the kids are being naughty..."
John grabbed my shoulders and shouted, "Do you know how many artists will emerge from here?"
Jim, while clapping, exclaimed, "Yes, its significance is no less than that of the Berlin Wall. Look how rich the creativity of children is!"
I looked at the wall, then at the two of them. Oh, so they weren't trying to expose us after all? So Westerners see graffiti and think of art.
That wall was actually quite interesting. The tallest one closest to me was probably the work of older students, written in running script: "The steamed buns in the cafeteria today had too much alkali." Below that, someone wrote in seal script: "I think it's alright." Further down, in small regular script: "What day is the poster talking about today?" Finally, in cursive script: "This post should sink..."
Next to this post, someone had started a drawing section. One drawing featured a dejected child with the caption: "Today Teacher Cheng scolded me for not working hard enough. I must work harder from now on." The style resembled the Yan school of painting. Below that, another child drew a disdainful expression, captioned: "Teacher Cheng usually doesn't scold people. Looks like you really aren't working hard." Further down was a drawing of a maidservant with an arrow pointing to it: "Our Teacher Wang (possibly a female teacher of academic subjects) said not to scribble on the walls..." This one looked a bit like a student of Wu Daozi.
Of course, besides these artistic works, there were also a lot of childish doodles. Fortunately, our school has a simple and honest atmosphere, and there were no posts like "Wang Xiaohong is a dog," "Li Erdan is a bastard," or "Zhang Xiaohua updates too slowly."
I struggled for a long time with the various problems that arose from this wall, and at one point even considered tearing it down. The real Berlin Wall and the Great Wall couldn't stop anything, let alone this mere brick wall. However, the Berlin Wall and the Great Wall later seemed to acquire other important meanings, so I stipulated: this wall would continue to serve its function of separating the old and new campuses, but those who could jump over it on their own would be forgiven (and there was no way to forgive them anyway); secondly, aside from profanity and insults, students could freely create art on the wall, which would be cleaned once a month, and the best artwork selected each week could be kept for a month… Thus, this "Yucai Wall," which I proposed, later became a unique feature and landmark of Yucai. Even Zhang Zeduan changed his mind, preparing to reproduce the entire "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" scroll on the Yucai Wall.
Finally, we gathered all the students at the Qinglong Martial Arts Arena for a collective martial arts performance, finally realizing John's vision. Old Zhang, who had gone to rest halfway through, returned to the scene. Amidst the deafening shouts of battle, Old Zhang solemnly and contentedly waved to the crowd below, leaving behind his classic, final warlord gesture on the land he deeply loved at Yucai.
A week later, Old Zhang passed away peacefully. I erected a grand memorial for him in front of the main gate of Yucai School. Besides stating his identity and name, it only had one comment, a line from Li Bai's poem "The Ballad of the Knight-Errant":
Though he dies, his chivalrous spirit remains, worthy of being a hero in this world.
Chapter Forty-Eight: Xiao Qiang
When you come to China, besides seeing the Great Wall and the Forbidden City, you must visit Yucai School. If you are in China now, then set off!
—Time Magazine (USA)
Yucai is a magical place. It brings together the top martial arts masters and art masters in China. We even have reason to suspect that it has gathered the most outstanding talents in Chinese history.
—The Times of London
Don't underestimate any child who walks past you. Whether they become a future champion or not, you certainly can't outrun or jump them. If you can hold your breath underwater for more than three minutes, then you might want to have a chat with them.
—Dong-A Ilbo, South Korea
Xiao, the current principal of Yucai School, is a leader with a unique personal charm, embodying both Eastern conservatism and Western humor. Well, I must admit: the reason I'm praising him so much is because he cured my stomach.
—The Washington Post
Stop asking. I was indeed defeated, but why do you keep emphasizing that my opponent was a driver?
—Mr. Asazomo Shiro, three-time Japanese karate champion
Unless we send our children to Yucai, we will keep losing all our gold medals, and we will no longer be on the same starting line.
—Statement published on the website by the Singapore Sanda organizers
The above are comments from world media, organizations, and even some individuals regarding Yucai School. It's fair to say they were truly impressed after visiting Yucai. However, I'm quite puzzled by Jim's opinion published in the *Washington Post*; I really can't see how I'm conservative. It's clear I'm not averse to blonde, blue-eyed, busty foreign women. As for humor, it likely refers to my locked Jinbei van; that guy Jim actually put a photo of me with it on the front page. And his last comment caused me a lot of trouble; farmers from nearby Yucai and even as far away as North America and Europe came seeking stomach medicine. Everyone knows the stomach is a relatively easy organ to malfunction, but its pain isn't always due to improper diet; it could also be stomach ulcers, high stomach acid, or even hunger. Except for the last one, which can be cured with two steamed buns, Bian Que's prescriptions cannot cure all ailments. He was also a very responsible doctor, which led him to specialize in stomach ailments for a considerable period of time afterward. This, in turn, made Yucai School not only a renowned school but also a master at treating stomach diseases...
Furthermore, after our school was featured in mainstream international media multiple times, it quickly became a tourist hotspot. Every day, foreigners of all nationalities and skin colors, carrying bags and cameras, streamed in. I considered following the example of a certain famous university in China, closing the school gates to prohibit unauthorized visitors. I even thought about simply welding the gates shut, since most people at Yucai are capable of jumping and leaping. But historical experience tells us that isolation is not a solution. Fortunately, although there are many tourists, we don't have to be responsible for their reception. At mealtimes, they still have to pay for their meals from our cafeteria, which is a way to earn foreign exchange. Another benefit is that the children are surrounded by these people every day, which broadens their horizons and builds their confidence. Even the shyest students can't help but use their newly learned foreign language skills to answer the foreigners' questions. Graduates from Yucai all have an English level of at least CET-6.
Actually, if we're talking about secrets, our school doesn't have any. Excellence comes from genuine talent, and those talented individuals are the biggest secret. However, this secret is kept in the hearts of everyone who knows it; it won't magically appear just because you accidentally pressed a mechanism on a rockery. That's why I feel at ease letting things unfold naturally.