Rebirth 04: Starting from Taking an Unconventional Approach

Chapter 178 Oral History of My Hometown

The two stopped by the river and watched two wild ducks float across the water. They didn't move or make a sound, just drifted silently across the gray surface.

"That 'oral history of your hometown' you mentioned later... when did you come up with that idea? You didn't just make it up on the spot, did you?"

"Half and half?"

Wen Shuyan turned her head and looked Han Fei up and down: "Hmm?"

"The idea has been around for a while," Han Fei said. "You know our 'Roots-Seeking Project,' right? It's about collecting stories from ordinary people—the mute, the old bachelor, the construction workers. After we started doing it, sometimes I thought it was such a waste to just put all this stuff on the Qingniao platform. Students in schools, especially those in rural schools, are surrounded by stories, but nobody teaches them how to listen, how to remember, or how to ask questions. But if you proactively approach the education commission with this kind of suggestion, they'll think you're there to do business. Someone has to bring it up, and it has to be in an 'educational' setting."

"So, you could say that Chen Zhengyuan's actions backfired, giving you the opportunity you've been waiting for?"

Han Fei laughed heartily: "Well, you could say that. He gave me a way out, and I used it to my advantage to get to the third floor."

"But your plan, you even thought of all the details? Compiling guidelines, publishing for free, setting up submission channels, this doesn't sound like something you came up with on the spur of the moment."

"The framework is always in my mind," Han Fei said. "As for the details, I fill them in as I go on stage, and then slowly fill them in afterward. As long as the general direction is right, the details can be added later. The key is to make people believe that you are serious, and not just saying it casually."

Wen Shuyan squinted at Han Fei, a slight smile playing on her lips: "So that's how it is. What others see as trouble becomes a stepping stone in your hands. Others might be at a loss when faced with this kind of situation, but you can pave a way out on the spot, and the words you speak seem to have been ingrained in your mind long ago. I'm not as good as you. Before I went on stage today, I revised my script seven times, repeatedly checking every punctuation mark."

"That's another kind of skill of yours," Han Fei said with a smile.

"Another skill?"

"Take it one step at a time," Han Fei said. "Your habit of repeatedly confirming and carefully considering every word is a more solid and enduring skill, isn't it? My impromptu speeches are fine once in a while, but if I were to improvise on stage every day, I would be exposed in no time. If you want to do something thoroughly, you have to be like you. Even Qingniao's success wasn't based on a flash of inspiration, but on refining it like you do with your drafts, going over them again and again, paragraph by paragraph, book by book."

Wen Shuyan smiled slightly, looking at the ground: "The people from NetEase and the reporters should be leaving by now. Are you going to...?"

"Okay, I'll call Ruiyi over right now," Han Fei said, taking out his phone.

The two stepped onto the path again, heading towards the school. The evening sun slanted across the student buildings, streets, and riverside trees, finally settling on the river and bathing everything in a brilliant golden hue. This Shanghai sunset was incomparably beautiful; Han Fei didn't know of any other city that could compare, though there were certainly others, he just didn't know them.

When they returned to the front of the small auditorium, the reporters had already dispersed. They continued walking, intending to meet Zhang Ruiyi at the school gate, when someone shouted Han Fei's name. They turned around and saw Zhang Huaili waving as he walked towards them.

Zhang Huaili nodded slightly to Wen Shuyan, then smiled and extended his hand to Han Fei.

"President Han, I've finally found you."

"Principal Zhang is looking for me?"

"Oh, it's not me looking for you," Zhang Huaili said in a low voice, glancing around as if he couldn't let anyone else hear what he was about to say. "It's Director Li from the Municipal Education Commission. He'd like to invite you over for a chat. It's in his office on the third floor of the Arts and Sciences Building. It'll just be a few words, won't take up much of your time."

Han Fei glanced at Wen Shuyan. Wen Shuyan smiled and nodded at him.

"Principal Zhang, did Director Li say what it was about?" Han Fei asked.

"Needless to say, your speech on stage just now, explaining oral history, quality education, and the preservation of local culture so clearly, how could the leaders not be moved? I know Director Li; he's not the type to talk to just anyone. The fact that he's willing to speak up means he genuinely believes your work is valuable. You'll see when you get there." Zhang Huaili paused, "The leaders are short on time; they have to rush back to the city for a meeting later, so you see..."

"Okay, I'll be right there," Han Fei said, then looked at Wen Shuyan, "Ruiyi's here, could you greet her for me? I'll come down after I'm done talking."

"Don't worry, go ahead." Wen Shuyan smiled slightly. "I'll wait for her at the school gate."

"Director Li, this is Han Fei, the president of Qingniao Publishing House." Zhang Huaili said with a smile to the middle-aged man sitting at the desk, then turned to Han Fei, "President Han, this is Li Guohua, the deputy director of the Municipal Education Commission."

"Hello, Director Li," Han Fei said, extending a hand. "My speech on stage just now was a bit rushed and I apologize for any intrusion."

Li Guohua stood up, his eyes filled with fervor. His thick white hair had been specially combed, and the length was just right so that the ends could fly freely up and down.

"President Han, you're too kind. What you just said couldn't be summed up in a mere 'hasty' statement. Empathy is also part of education," he said. "That's well said, it shows you've truly thought about it." He gestured for Zhang Huaili to leave and let Han Fei sit in the large armchair opposite his desk.

Han Fei took the teacup from Li Guohua and took a sip. This office was very similar to the publishing house office where he had spent countless hours: pale colors, simple decorations, a modern Spartan style—not deliberately minimalist, but somewhat soulless. This room was designed for efficiency, so you could leave quickly.

"President Han, are you a local from Shanghai?" Li Guohua asked.

"I was born and raised here," Han Fei said. "I lived in Hongkou when I was a child, and later moved to Pudong. I've watched the lights on this side of the Bund light up one by one."

Li Guohua nodded, his gaze lingering on Han Fei's face for a moment, then he pulled open his coat sleeve and glanced at his watch.

"Okay," he leaned back in his chair, placing his hands on the armrests, "Time is limited, so I'll get straight to the point. To be honest, our Education Commission has been promoting local culture in schools for the past few years," but the results have always been less than ideal. Either the materials are too rigid, and students simply don't like reading them; or they turn it into a one-off essay contest, creating a lot of excitement for a few days, but then nobody mentions it anymore.

But your proposal about "oral history of one's hometown" is a novel approach, and I've taken it to heart. Not only have I taken it to heart, but I also think it's worth doing. So I'd like to ask you a few questions in person.

"Director Li, please go ahead."

"You mentioned in your speech that the 'Oral History of My Hometown' project was inspired by your process of collecting writing materials. What exactly was your process of collecting writing materials like?"

Han Fei nodded and began to explain the concept and implementation of the Roots-Seeking Project, omitting the trivial details and focusing only on the key points. He also told several stories collected during the project. Li Guohua listened attentively, his face showing an almost fascinated expression.

When Han Fei finished speaking, Li Guohua smacked his lips and nodded repeatedly, seemingly still wanting more.

"These stories you're telling weren't told by professional writers?"

"Most of them didn't even finish high school," Han Fei said, "but their stories are more compelling than those of many professional writers because they grow from the mud."

Li Guohua nodded thoughtfully and asked his second question: "If the Education Commission really supports you in doing this, which district do you plan to start in? And how do you plan to do it?"

Han Fei took a sip of tea: "My suggestion is not to be greedy. First, select one district, and then select three to five enthusiastic schools within that district to conduct pilot programs. I briefly mentioned what Qingniao can do at the meeting. Specifically, firstly, we can compile a 'Hometown Oral History Practice Guide' to teach teachers and students how to conduct interviews, record, and organize information; secondly, we can provide a submission platform and editorial support, and students' compiled works can be selected for publication on Qingniao's website and magazine; thirdly, at the end of each semester, we can compile the best works from that semester into a book and send it free of charge to the participating schools and education commissions."

"What about the funding?"

"Qingniao was responsible for the initial guideline development, platform maintenance, and editing and review," Han Fei said. "If the pilot program is successful, we can discuss funding later if we want to expand the scale. The Education Commission doesn't need to make any promises now."

"Oh?" Li Guohua said in surprise, "Why are you being so generous? It can't just be for charity, can it?"

Han Fei smiled quietly: "Director Li, to be honest, and please don't think I'm mercenary. Although Qingniao is a publishing house, what we lack most is precisely being seen. Publishing magazines and short story novels in rural towns is very costly. But if our name can be associated with the Education Commission's 'Local Culture Enters Schools' project, even just adding Qingniao Publishing House's name to the end of an official document from a pilot school, that would be more effective in enhancing our brand than spending hundreds of thousands on Google Ads. Furthermore, these accumulated stories, provided they are completely compliant and authorized by the parties involved, can certainly fill our own content library."

Li Guohua couldn't help but smile: "You've killed multiple birds with one stone. Let me ask you another question: what do you do when students write things that touch on sensitive topics, like village petitions, cadre issues, or domestic violence? Publishing them might cause trouble..."

It's troublesome; not distributing it would dampen students' enthusiasm.

"Regarding this, my principles are three 'don'ts' and three 'dos'."

"Okay. What are the three things you shouldn't do?"

"First, we do not actively guide the narrative; our 'Practice Guidelines' will not contain any targeted or suggestive guidance. Second, we do not disclose sensitive content; if a story contains content that is clearly unsuitable for public dissemination, we will communicate with the school and parents and only archive it internally, without publishing it. Finally, we do not criticize or modify the facts; we respect the narrator's memory and feelings and will not tamper with the story for the sake of making it more appealing."

Li Guohua nodded: "What about the three essentials?"

"We must protect privacy, respect the individuals involved, and convey positive values. If we are unsure, we will ask the moral education director of the pilot school and experts appointed by the education commission to jointly review it. Qingniao only provides technical and platform support; we are willing to share the ultimate responsibility for content security with the education commission."

Li Guohua stared at Han Fei for a while, then a smile slowly appeared on his face: "Little Han, how old are you this year?"

"Twenty-five."

"Twenty-five years old," Li Guohua sighed, "you speak and act with more maturity than many fifty-two-year-olds. Do you know what I admire most about you?"

Han Fei smiled slightly and shook his head.

Li Guohua chuckled: "Your considerations are not only comprehensive but also practical. You just said that the Education Commission doesn't need to make any promises right now, and that hits the nail on the head. In all my years overseeing basic education, I've seen too many projects entering schools. Eight out of ten are just there to sell books, and the other two are there to ask for money. This is the first time I've encountered someone like you who proactively says that the Education Commission doesn't need to invest money, and that Qingniao is willing to do a pilot project first. Get things done first, show the results, and then talk about other things. This kind of thinking shows that you have confidence in your ideas, and it also shows that you're not someone who's eager for quick success."

"Director Li, you flatter me," Han Fei said. "Qingniao has only been alive for a few months. We know better than anyone that the value of doing things is more important than the prestige of asking for money. If the job is done well, the money will naturally come; if the job is done poorly, even if a contract is signed, it's useless."

"I'll ask you one last question," Li Guohua said. "What do you think would be the greatest significance if this were to succeed?"

Han Fei gazed at the sky, lost in thought: "When I was little, my dad often told me something. He said the greatest ability of writing is not to make people remember you, but to make people see others. I didn't quite understand it before, but after I took over Qingniao, the more I did it, the more I realized that this statement was true."

Li Guohua's smile widened: "Great, excellent. Xiao Han, I support your plan on behalf of the Education Commission. As for how to proceed, take some time after you get back to prepare a detailed plan and submit it to me. I'll have a colleague from the Basic Education Department liaise with you." He handed over a business card that read: Li Guohua, Deputy Director of the Shanghai Municipal Education Commission. "My office phone number and mobile number are on here. You can call directly if there's an emergency."

"Thank you, Director Li," Han Fei said, putting his business card into his suit pocket.

Li Guohua smiled slightly, glanced at his watch, and stood up. Han Fei followed suit.

"It's getting late, I need to rush back to the city for a meeting. Call me when you've finished the proposal, and we'll meet again."

"Okay. I'll get on it as soon as possible," Han Fei said.

Li Guohua shook hands with Han Fei and walked towards the door, then suddenly turned back: "By the way, Han. That President Chen from Wangyi, everyone here could see his performance today. You're young, and it's really not easy for you to remain so calm."