The day before a new course began, Zhu Yun opened her book to review as usual.
The first lesson covered introductory theory. Zhu Yun skimmed through it at a light pace, then flipped ahead.
What came after made her eyes slowly grow wide.
She didn’t yet know the specific meaning of those functions, but the underlying architecture of the programs had left a deep impression on her.
This is the cross-the-river-and-die game.
The speed at which Zhu Yun turned pages grew faster and faster, the mediocre textbook rustling loudly in her hands.
When she reached the last page, she drew a long breath.
She closed the book.
Stared at the thick, bold characters on the cover.
“C Language…” It was the first time since the end of the college entrance examination that Zhu Yun had felt a blazing, combative enthusiasm for any subject.
That night she read until well past midnight. She was awake again before six the next morning, and kept reading.
By the time class started, she had worked through three chapters.
The C Language instructor’s surname was Lin. Word was he was a professor of considerable standing — just past fifty, already mostly bald, and with the aged look common to people who had spent their lives in front of computers. He was also very fond of smiling, which had only multiplied the wrinkles on his face, giving him the appearance of a wizened little old man.
The class was held in a multimedia room.
Multimedia rooms were the easiest places in the world to zone out and slack off.
For one thing, several rows of computers were all running at once, generating heat alongside the students, and after more than half an hour the air became stifling. For another, the computer screens provided a natural barrier — as long as the teacher stayed at the front, you could sleep in whatever position you liked and no one would say a thing.
But Zhu Yun, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain — as if she had someone to prove something to — had made up her mind to take this course seriously. She walked into the classroom and sat down in the front row, as close to the teacher as possible.
The bell rang.
Zhu Yun’s eyes drifted involuntarily around the room.
Not here yet?
…Surely he wouldn’t be arrogant enough to skip altogether.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the top scorer strode in with his characteristic long steps. He had apparently just woken from a midday nap — his golden hair was standing up in every direction like a Super Saiyan.
He walked straight to the back row, and had barely sat down when a classmate informed him:
“That machine won’t turn on. It’s broken.”
“…”
Li Xun stood, looked around.
Zhu Yun found it quietly amusing — the back seats in a university classroom were claimed on a first-come basis. Not knowing even that, and he’d been taking a nap?
Old Professor Lin had finished preparing his lesson plan, steeped his tea, cleared his throat, and was just about to begin — when he looked up and found Li Xun standing on one foot at the back of the room, like a stork.
He waved Li Xun over and pointed in Zhu Yun’s direction.
A sense of foreboding immediately settled over Zhu Yun.
…
Sure enough, Old Professor Lin continued: “There’s a seat available here, young man.”
Zhu Yun’s inner voice: “No——!“
The Super Saiyan walked over and dropped down into the seat beside her. Zhu Yun looked down at her textbook without any expression.
Old Professor Lin began the class.
He cradled his teacup and addressed the students: “Has anyone had any prior exposure to C Language? Or perhaps tried writing a small program in C before?”
Zhu Yun cast a sideways glance at Li Xun in her mind.
Raise your hand. Didn’t you already make a cross-the-river-and-die game?
Seeing no response, Old Professor Lin smiled. “Everyone’s quite modest.”
He set down his teacup.
“As everyone knows, we are living in the information age. The pace of development in computing is extraordinarily rapid, and the same goes for programming languages. Compared to the newer languages emerging today, C Language is rather like myself standing before you — well past its prime.”
Old Professor Lin wore a kindly expression, his smile tinged with mischief.
“But as the saying goes, ‘ginger grows spicier with age.’ There are advantages to being old. C is rich and rigorous. Whether you go on to study algorithms, compilers, databases, or operating systems — the skills you learn from C Language will be sufficient to serve as the foundation for everything you do in programming.”
“But before we begin, there is one thing I want to say to all of you, and you must remember it. Seven words: mastery lies beyond technique.“
The students below all listened in quiet attention.
Old Professor Lin raised one finger, his gaze clear and sharp.
“You have every right to be proud of yourselves for getting here. But remember — do not fall into the trap that good students so often fall into: drilling the textbook to death.”
Zhu Yun felt a sudden sting, as if something had lodged itself in her throat.
“Over four years of university you will learn many programming languages, but no matter which language it is, remember — do not get lost chasing clever tricks and shortcuts. You must learn to look at problems from a broader perspective, even with the simplest program.”
“All right — what I’ve said just now probably isn’t entirely clear to you yet. It’s something you’ll come to understand gradually through the process of learning. Now, everyone look at the screen. Let’s begin.”