Chapter 300 – Zhou Yimin’s Suggestion

Teacher Wang shook his head. “I can’t give any advice.”

After all, whether to go or not both has its pros and cons. It depends on how you want to raise the child.

If you only want to develop his mathematical ability, then he has to go—he shouldn’t stay in primary school. But if you want the child to develop in a more well-rounded way, then take it step by step. Don’t rush things and force him to grow prematurely.

If he gave an opinion now, and something went wrong later, he’d be the one blamed.

So, he felt that it was better not to make any recommendations on this kind of matter. Of course, he could help analyze the pros and cons of both options with Cheng Siguang, but he should not participate in the actual decision-making.

“Yimin, what do you think?” Cheng Siguang turned to Zhou Yimin.

In truth, tonight he mainly wanted to get Zhou Yimin’s opinion.

By comparison, he valued Zhou Yimin more.

Zhou Yimin thought for a moment, then said, “I think we should let Shengli go to middle school and focus on developing his math. Let him fully utilize his mathematical talent. Otherwise, it’d be a real pity to waste such a gift.

As for falling behind in other subjects, just try to catch up as best he can.

Honestly, it’s not necessary to be excellent at every subject. A person’s energy is limited. It’s unrealistic to master every subject or field, and it only adds to Shengli’s academic burden.

A person only needs to master one area or one profession to succeed.

The worst is to know a little bit of everything, but not be truly good at anything—just a jack of all trades.”

Zhou Yimin expressed his true opinion.

In the future, it would be very common for students to excel in only one subject.

“But if his grades in other subjects are bad, would that make it harder for him to get into college?” Cheng Siguang voiced his concern.

He hoped Shengli would go to university in the future. But if he only excelled at one subject and failed the rest, it might be hard to reach the university admissions cutoff.

After all, even if he got a perfect score in one subject, it’s only 100 points. It wouldn’t be enough to raise the total score much.

As for the logic behind Zhou Yimin’s earlier words—of course he understood it.

“That could be a bit troublesome,” Teacher Wang said.

Zhou Yimin replied, “Getting into university wouldn’t be a big issue. As long as you’re outstanding enough, even if the other subjects don’t meet the standard, some schools will still accept you.

If you master math, physics, and chemistry, you’ll never have to fear going out into the world.”

That last sentence even shocked Teacher Wang.

“Master math, physics, and chemistry, and you’ll never fear going out into the world?”

Zhou Yimin: “……”

Alright, he let that one slip again.

That saying didn’t become popular until the 1980s.

During the 1980s, with policy changes in the country—like “the key to the Four Modernizations is the modernization of science and technology” and “intellectuals are part of the working class”—society as a whole began to respect knowledge and those who possessed it.

At that time, there was a strong awareness of technological innovation and reform. The idea of “integrating theory with practice” emphasized that one had to see and understand problems before they could analyze and solve them. Math, physics, and chemistry became powerful tools for unlocking productivity and directly helped stimulate students’ interest and sense of achievement in learning.

That’s how such a slogan came about.

“In short, if he masters math, physics, and chemistry, he basically won’t have to worry about finding a job in the future.

Uncle Cheng, as long as Shengli learns math well and masters it, I’ll ask my Uncle Zhang to help recommend him for university admission. That won’t be a problem.” Zhou Yimin even gave his personal guarantee at the end.

He intended to cultivate Shengli into a mathematician. Since the kid had the talent, why not?

In later years, people would say that math is the mother of science, and science is built on a foundation of mathematics.

Right now, there wasn’t yet any formal system for special admissions or guaranteed university placement.

By 1970, Peking University and Tsinghua University decided to abolish the entrance exam system and adopt a method of mass recommendation, leadership approval, and school review to select students from among workers, peasants, and soldiers. The academic period was shortened to 2–3 years.

Even with recommendation-based admission, certain requirements still had to be met—for example, having at least a junior high school education, two years of work experience in a factory, rural area, or the army. Age-wise, 20 was the target, but exceptions could be made for outstanding candidates.

That was perhaps the precursor to special admissions.

Still, official special admissions didn’t begin until the mid-1980s. In 1984, China started piloting the guaranteed admission student system, which could be considered the prototype of special admissions.

“Really?” Cheng Siguang was overjoyed.

He knew Zhou Yimin had connections.

If he said someone could help get a recommendation, it was basically guaranteed. As for who this “Uncle Zhang” was, Cheng Siguang didn’t dig deeper.

If that was the case, then he’d definitely send Shengli to middle school and have him go deep into mathematics.

Teacher Wang gave Zhou Yimin a long, meaningful look. You’ve really been hiding your capabilities.

Back then, when you were accepted into university but didn’t go, that had already puzzled him.

Zhou Yimin nodded. “It shouldn’t be difficult.”

In fact, within five or six years, that wave would start to rise, and by then, universities would shut down—it’d be hard to even attend. So right now, Zhou Yimin could speak without pressure.

“Then I’ll leave it to you, Yimin.”

Just then, Huang Suqin began bringing the dishes to the table.

“Shengli, Shengyi, come eat!”

Cheng Siguang poured drinks for Zhou Yimin and Teacher Wang. “Come on, let’s have a toast.”

When Teacher Wang saw the cured meat, salted fish, and eggs on the table, his eyes nearly turned green. He sighed inwardly—Cheng Siguang was really generous. Many people couldn’t even eat this well during the New Year.

While eating, Zhou Yimin said regretfully, “What a shame we’ve fallen out with our elder brother up north. Otherwise, with Shengli’s mathematical talent, he could’ve even studied abroad and become a mathematician.

Also, I heard that those northern countries held their first International Mathematical Olympiad just last year. Maybe someday Shengli could represent our country in that competition.”

From what he knew, in 1956, a Romanian mathematician named Professor Roman proposed the idea, and in July 1959, the first International Mathematical Olympiad was held in Romania. It’s been held annually since then, only interrupted once in 1980.

The purpose of the competition was to inspire young people’s mathematical talent, spark their interest in math, identify future scientific talent, and promote international exchange and development in mathematics education.

In later years, the IMO would become a big deal. China would send its first team to participate in 1985.

“Oh? That’s a thing?” Teacher Wang had never heard of it before and found it intriguing.

Cheng Siguang’s face lit up with anticipation—he hoped Shengli could one day participate in such a competition and win glory for the nation. And of course, also bring honor to himself and the Cheng family.

As for studying abroad—that wasn’t realistic.

But if there were a chance, he’d sell everything he had to send Shengli abroad.

Zhou Yimin smiled. “A friend told me.

Right now, our relationship with the north is tense. Maybe in a few years, when Shengli is grown, the situation with those countries won’t be so strained, and then we’ll be able to participate.

So, studying hard and being prepared now is never a bad idea.”

Even in the 21st century, Russian mathematics remained exceptionally strong—it was a mathematical holy land in the eyes of many.

(End of Chapter)