Under the curious stares of the crowd, Jack Young and James Norris ran through their middle school English textbook routines, each feeling like they’d finally met their match—a couple of rookies recognizing each other’s true colors. Chess prodigies? More like two hopeless amateurs bonding over their shared mediocrity.
James Norris burst out laughing, "Ha! Sir, your Western learning really is something else. Your English is so authentic and fluent—way better than mine!" He reached out for a handshake, thinking he’d heard Jack Young grew up in the West, so why not throw in a little Western courtesy?
Jack Young shook his hand like a pro, face turning red with embarrassment. "Oh, not at all, not at all. My English is still pretty rough. If anything, I know a bit more Japanese."
Why does he know Japanese? Should I tell you he spent his college days learning Japanese just because he couldn’t get his hands on Chinese-translated PS games, and had way too much free time on his hands?
"Oh? So you're a real scholar!" James Norris exclaimed. "I just heard Jack Young is a whiz at math, physics, and chemistry—a true jack-of-all-trades! In times like these, we need people like you to save the country and keep us moving forward. Now that you’re back, have you found a place to stay?"
A place to stay? Dream on! Jack Young chuckled, "I just got here and came straight over. Woke up and immediately signed up—I haven’t even thought about where to crash yet."
Honestly, that was the plain truth. But to the folks listening nearby, it sounded like Jack Young had a heart of gold—straight off the boat and already working hard for the cause. What a national treasure!
James Norris was full of praise. "I’m impressed! At Jingwu Athletic Association, we value body, mind, and virtue, and we need lecturers like you. You’re new here, so you might not know your way around—this is the student registration area. Lecturers and instructors, please follow me to another room. Let’s go meet President Henry Huo!"
With that, he gestured for Jack Young to follow him and led the way.
Jack Young walked along, mulling things over—Jingwu Athletic Association? What’s that supposed to be? Weren’t we just talking about a place to learn martial arts? But hey, in this era, ‘Athletic Association’ has nothing to do with calisthenics or radio exercises—it’s just a fancy name for a martial arts school.
James Norris, body-mind-virtue, Jingwu Athletic Association, President Henry Huo, and this craze for Western learning—all these things together are giving me a serious sense of déjà vu.
Just then, under James Norris’s guidance, Jack Young arrived at the lounge. Inside, two middle-aged men were chatting happily—one with a braided queue in a traditional robe, the other sporting short hair and a Zhongshan suit.
Seeing Jack Young and James Norris come in, the two men paused their conversation and looked over. Jack Young squinted back—his five-hundred-degree nearsightedness meant he could only make out vague shapes, but he still got the sense that the guy with the braid had a piercing gaze and a tough, energetic vibe.
But compared to him, the man in the Zhongshan suit left an even deeper impression on Jack Young. Those eyes—bright, mysterious, impossible to read. In just a split second, Jack felt like the guy could see right through him, inside and out, which sent a chill down his spine.
"Oh, I didn’t know Dr. Thomas Tang was here—my apologies, my apologies." James Norris quickly bowed to the man in the Zhongshan suit.
"Mr. Norris, you’re too polite," the man replied with a gentle smile—one of those smiles that made you feel like you’d just stepped into a warm spring breeze. Pretty magical, honestly.
"President Huo, Dr. Thomas Tang, let me introduce someone. This is Jack Young," James Norris gestured toward Jack, "He may be young, but he’s already a master of Western learning, well-versed in math, physics, chemistry, and English. He just got back to China and rushed right over."
"Oh?" The man in the robe immediately stood up, clasped his fists, and said with a big grin, "Henry Huo of Jingwu Athletic Association—welcome, Mr. Young!"
———————————————
There’s an old saying: "Master math, physics, and chemistry, and you’ll be fearless anywhere in the world."
Back when Jack Young was in middle school, society hadn’t yet been flooded with all those privileged kids, and campus life was pretty wholesome and upbeat. That old saying still popped up in every math and science teacher’s mouth.
But times changed, job stress went up, and that old saying about mastering math, physics, and chemistry eventually faded out.
But today, right now, here at the Jingwu Athletic Association, standing in front of Henry Huo and James Norris, Jack Young really wanted to bow to whoever came up with that phrase—thanks to them, his English was a disaster, but his math and science were pretty solid. He might not be able to travel the world fearlessly, but tricking folks from the late Qing and early Republic eras? Piece of cake!
“Mr. Huo, Mr. Norris, Western science is all about precision. They love solving problems with exact numbers. Like, if you toss a stone up and watch it fall—how high, how far, how long it takes. For us, it’s all about gut feeling: ‘about a breath,’ ‘the time it takes to drink a cup of tea,’ ‘the time it takes for incense to burn’—all fuzzy measurements, based on experience.”
Jack Young was in his element, chatting away. His dad was a teacher, so he grew up in a bookish household, always watching his old man teach. That gave Jack a natural classroom vibe when he spoke. Henry Huo and James Norris got drawn in, and Henry asked, “So how do the Westerners do it?”
“Great question!” Jack switched into full-on teacher mode, drawing a coordinate grid on paper and sketching a curve. “This is called a parabola. It’s used to study how things move when you throw them. Every second, every position—it can all be figured out.”
Seeing Henry and James still a bit confused, Jack gave them an example they’d get: “This parabola is what led to ballistics. When cannons fire, most folks here just eyeball it. But Westerners? They’ve got exact research—where it’ll hit, how big the blast radius is. Study it, find the problems, improve it. That’s how their guns got so fierce.”
“Oh!” Henry and James suddenly got it, both staring intently at Jack’s diagram.
Henry Huo marveled, “Such a simple curve, yet so much knowledge comes from it. Sir—” He grabbed Jack’s hand. “Strengthening the body is good, but opening the mind and nurturing virtue is the real way to build a strong nation. I’ve spent my life as a martial artist, so I know a bit about fitness, but for wisdom, we need people like you. Please, you must teach this knowledge to others.”
“Master Huo,” Jack Young smoothly slipped his hand free, “that’s exactly why I’m here.”
“Excellent!” Henry Huo jumped up, excited. “James, gather the students! This afternoon, we’re having a class—let’s talk about Western precision!”
That afternoon, Jingwu Athletic Association set aside a room for the lesson.
Jack Young stood at the podium, squinting at the crowd—sixty or seventy folks, young and old, men and women. Word was, besides the students, some instructors were there too. Everyone wanted to hear what this new Mr. Young had to say about Western science.
Even Henry Huo and James Norris sat up straight in the front row, paper and brush in hand. The brush and inkstone next to the paper gave Jack a kick of mixed-up novelty.
Jack Young cleared his throat. “Hello everyone, I’m Jack Young. Today, I’ll be talking about Western science—specifically, natural science, which uses numbers to study the world. Let’s start with something we all know: math. Mr. Norris used to run a business, so he’s probably a pro at accounting. Mr. Norris, tell us—how do you keep your books?”
Jack Young talked himself hoarse all afternoon. His teaching was lively and fun, with examples that were either super simple or so tricky they made people want to tear their hair out. The Jingwu folks were blown away and wouldn’t let him leave.
It wasn’t until night had fully fallen that, at Henry Huo’s order, everyone finally dispersed.
As they headed out, some folks were still arguing:
“So, that pool—if you’ve got a few pipes filling it and a few pipes draining it, how long does it take to fill up?”
“I’m telling you, filling and draining at the same time—those Westerners are nuts. But if the pipes have different flow rates, as long as we figure out the differences, we should be able to calculate the time…”
Henry Huo and James Norris exchanged smiles at the sound of the debate. That kind of arguing—that’s the hope for the future.
They threw Jack Young a welcome banquet, got to know him, and set him up with a private room. From that moment, Jack was officially the Western science instructor at Jingwu Athletic Association.
Late at night, Jack Young lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and muttering, “When I wake up, I’ll probably be back to my regular guy self, right?”
He closed his eyes, not noticing the flash of gold in his left palm—a bead, amber-like, appeared, the very relic the little girl had given him.
The bead slowly floated up, glowing softly with yellow light, then seemed to dissolve right into Jack Young’s chest, as if there were no boundaries between body and magic.