The bespectacled man across from Chen Zier had little interest in the stock market and was more inclined to chat with Chen Zier instead. Setting aside the topic of stocks, he asked something more personal: "Young man, which part of Huaiyang are you from?"
"I'm from Yueshui County, under Huaiyang's jurisdiction," Chen Zier replied. Sensing the man might be an official, he wasn't particularly concerned for himself, but his father ran a small business in Huaiyang. So, he took the initiative to introduce himself further: "My name is Chen Zier, and I'm heading to Zhonghai University for my studies. And you, sir? May I ask your name?"
In 1996, being a university student still held considerable value, unlike in later years. Moreover, Zhonghai University was considered a prestigious institution. Upon hearing this, all three of them—including the girl—looked at him with newfound respect.
The lean man beside him noticed more. Chen Zier's earlier interjection had carried a hint of intentional engagement. While the young girl might not have picked up on it, the man recognized Chen Zier's underlying motive and silently labeled him as "shrewd." After all, in a society built on relationships, lacking social awareness was a serious drawback.
The man across from him replied, "My surname is Tan. Tan Zhitao. And this is my daughter, Tan Wanxi."
Chen Zier smiled. "*'There is a beautiful one, with clear eyes and lovely grace.'* A fitting name, and beautifully chosen."
Tan Zhitao laughed heartily at the compliment. Tan Wanxi, however, blushed shyly and remained silent. This wasn't an era where praising a girl with "*There is a beautiful one*" would be immediately assumed to refer to her. The young girl, who had earlier scolded her father with such fierceness, now turned quiet and introverted in front of strangers.
Tan Zhitao said, "Very few people can immediately identify the origin of her name. As a top student who got into Zhonghai University, you still found time to read the *Classic of Poetry*?"
The line—*"There is a beautiful one, with clear eyes and lovely grace. We meet by chance, fulfilling my heart's desire"*—came from the *Airs of the States* section of the *Classic of Poetry*. It described a beautiful maiden whose eyes sparkled with emotion, and how a chance encounter captured the speaker's heart.
Chen Zier waved it off. "Please, no more praise. It was just a lucky recall. But you, sir, have applied your learning beautifully, giving your daughter a truly lovely name."
"Exactly! Look at my family's old man—no education to speak of. He gave me, a grown man, the name Sun Hong. Everyone who hears it thinks I'm a woman!" The man beside them was also quite talkative. Having had no chance to jump in earlier, he seized the opportunity now.
Chen Zier hadn't caught the exact character at first and almost laughed, thinking, "*Sun Hong?* That really does sound feminine."
"You all thought it was the 'Hong' for 'red,' didn't you?" Sun Hong continued. "Wrong! It's the 'Hong' for 'grand'!"
Chen Zier and Tan Zhitao both wore expressions of sudden understanding.
As the conversation continued, Chen Zier learned that Tan Zhitao was indeed an official—a section chief in the city's Finance Bureau, which made him a minor authority in his own right. Tan Wanxi was heading to Zhonghai Normal University for her studies. As for Sun Hong, he had spent years drifting around Zhonghai and now ran a stall there selling discs. Put nicely, he was a retailer; put bluntly, he dealt in pirated goods. In the 1990s, barely any discs or records were legitimate.
The topic of the stock market died abruptly. Tan Zhitao wasn't very interested, Chen Zier didn't know much about it, and Sun Hong couldn't keep the conversation going alone.
As time passed, most passengers gradually quieted down. By 9 p.m., Chen Zier felt a bit hungry and prepared a cup of instant noodles. Some people were already dozing off in their seats. The girl across from him could lean against her father, but when Chen Zier considered leaning against Sun Hong, the very thought made him dismiss it entirely.
With nothing else to do, Chen Zier pulled out a book he had brought along. The one he was halfway through was titled *Built to Last*, translated into Chinese as *基业长青* ("Enduring Enterprises"), a bestseller by American author James C. Collins. It had earned a place on Forbes' list of the 20 Best Business Bestsellers of the 20th Century. Being selected as one of the top 20 business books over a span of 100 years spoke volumes about its quality.
Chen Zier found it quite engaging. The book debunked twelve common myths, and while its arguments weren't necessarily absolute truths, its fresh perspectives provoked continuous reflection. For example, the author suggested that a brilliantly talented and charismatic leader could actually be detrimental to a company's long-term development. Such leaders might boost short-term performance significantly, but from a broader or alternative perspective, they could make the company overly dependent on one individual. This meant the company's fate became tightly intertwined with that person's lifespan. If that were the case, how long could such a company truly last? Moreover, what if such a leader made a critical mistake?
Almost instantly, Chen Zier thought of Apple Inc., as the most brilliant CEO he could recall was Steve Jobs. "Maybe there's some truth to this..." he mused, somewhat convinced by the argument. Before his rebirth, he had witnessed the launch of the iPhone 7—where merely changing the camera warranted calling it a new generation. That wasn't the Apple style people were familiar with anymore.
But people had to get used to it, because the style of Jobs that everyone loved was gone. This meant that the more talented a leader was, the greater the damage to the company's long-term development after their departure. However, Collins's arguments shouldn't be taken as absolute truth—several of the "good" companies cited as examples in the book later performed poorly. For instance, Motorola, which Collins praised as a visionary company, was destined to be acquired, as only Chen Zier knew. Two decades later, some would seize on this to dismiss the book entirely. It could only be said that the world changed too fast, and even classics depreciated.
As the train rattled along, sitting upright made it difficult to fall asleep. Tan Zhitao had dozed for over half an hour but woke up feeling sore all over. He stretched his shoulders, which had grown stiff from his daughter leaning on him, but couldn't find a more comfortable position. Glancing around, his eyes fell on the young man across from him, engrossed in his book. It occurred to Tan that he should have brought something to pass the time too.
Putting on his large brown glasses, his vision cleared, and he realized with a start—the kid was reading a book in *English*!
Chen Zier wasn't trying to show off. It was just that no Chinese edition of *Built to Last* had been published yet, so he'd had to ask someone to bring it back from Hong Kong. As a skilled language teacher, he had truly mastered his specialty—both spoken and written English were effortless for him. When tutoring classes were in vogue, he had even earned some quick cash and used it to backpack frugally through Western countries. His previous life had been comfortable enough, just not particularly exciting.
Several thoughts flashed through Tan Zhitao's mind. At this time, very few people could read books in English fluently. His admiration for Chen Zier deepened.
Waiting for a moment until Chen Zier put the book down to rub his neck, Tan said, "I never expected you could understand a book by an American author. That's truly impressive!"
Chen Zier scratched his head, unsure how to respond. Tan probably didn't realize how many years of effort had gone into achieving this. But he was also curious. "Uncle Tan, how did you know it's an American book?"
Tan Zhitao pointed to the small print on the cover. "I may not be able to read the whole thing, but I recognize the word 'America'." He then asked, "How does your brain work? My daughter just got into university, so I know how exhausting and time-consuming the college entrance exam is. How did you manage to get into Zhonghai University *and* study the *Classic of Poetry* *and* reach this level in English all at once?" He added, "You look barely eighteen or nineteen. I've studied English myself—it's something that requires accumulation. It seems I've met a young genius!"
Hearing Tan lay it out so methodically, Chen Zier had to admit it did seem hard to explain. Since it was difficult to justify, and a humble reply might come off as overly modest, he opted for the simplest approach.
"Thank you!" he said with a smile, radiating confidence and politeness.
Tan Zhitao had already made up his mind. His daughter was too shy and timid. She'd be alone in Zhonghai with no one to look out for her. This Chen Zier seemed like a fine young man—a fellow townsman, nearby, and a top student. Perfect.
So he asked, "Where is your university located in Zhonghai?" He wanted the address to stay in touch.
Chen Zier recalled the information on his admission letter. "In Shenhang District, on Taiyuan Road. I haven't been there yet—I'll need to find it."
Tan Zhitao's face lit up. "So close? Zhonghai Normal University is also on Taiyuan Road!"
This was unexpected for Chen Zier. He was pleased too—Tan Zhitao was, after all, a minor official. Staying connected couldn't hurt. With this mutual understanding, they both felt reassured that they could get to know each other better after disembarking. As midnight approached, they settled back in their seats to rest without further conversation.
Chen Zier managed to doze off briefly but not deeply. In a groggy state, he felt the train finally arrive in Zhonghai. Once inside the city, the train slowed even more. Occasionally, a black Santana would speed past the window, heightening the restlessness of those eager to get off—Chen Zier included. After such a long journey and a nearly sleepless night, his back and legs ached.
It was almost 5 a.m. The dawn sunlight had just begun to spill over this burgeoning city. In Chen Zier's eyes, Zhonghai at this time was shabby and dilapidated—rows of low, gray concrete buildings, narrow roads, and plenty of dust, a far cry from the prosperity it would boast two decades later. Only the occasional modern structure hinted at the city's fierce ambition. The opportunities in this wave of momentum were vast and numerous!
The thought stirred a thrill in Chen Zier's heart.
Tan Zhitao seemed to notice Chen Zier's unusual expression and mistook it for the awe of a country boy entering the big city. He smiled and said, "The first time I came here, I was very nervous too. I thought Zhonghai was an extraordinary place."
Chen Zier couldn't help but smile wryly. So, he was being seen as a country kid overwhelmed by the city. After a moment's thought, he said, "To put it in slightly literary terms, this is my second rendezvous with the world."
Tan Zhitao chuckled dismissively, assuming Chen Zier was referring to the contrast between Huaiyang and Zhonghai.
But what Chen Zier truly meant was his past life and this present one.