Sold into a ghost marriage? Four-year-old and his thuggish father go on a killing spree.

The incident of the stolen clothes, like a gust of wind, subsided on the surface after it passed.

Liu Cuihua didn't dare to leave the house for several days in a row.

Gu Yanqiu's life returned to normal—working hard at the brick kiln during the day, repairing farm machinery at home at night, and collecting mountain products on weekends.

In addition to her daily duties as a housekeeper, Niannian has taken on a new task.

Gu Yanqiu bought her the cheapest notebook and a pencil stub.

Make her learn ten characters every day.

Niannian's learning ability is amazing.

She can do addition and subtraction problems that most children have to count on their fingers with just one glance.

She can memorize words that others need to read a dozen times, just by tracing them once.

Gu Yanqiu's limited knowledge, which he hadn't even finished junior high school, quickly ran out.

He began to worry that he could teach so little, and wondered if he would be hindering his bright daughter's development.

Just then, a group of new people arrived in Chengjiawan.

Those were several educated youths from the provincial capital, two men and three women, carrying large suitcases.

A look of confusion and curiosity crossed his face.

They were assigned to the old schoolhouse at the east end of the village, which had been abandoned for several years, and a new "educated youth settlement" was established there.

One of the male educated youths was named Chen Zhiyuan, 24 years old, a student in the Chinese Department of a university in the provincial capital.

He wore black-rimmed glasses, had fair skin, and spoke in a refined manner.

He was completely different from the men in the village who were tanned dark by the sun year-round.

Because he was an "educated person" and not very strong, the brigade secretary, Cheng Tiezhu, arranged for him to be a warehouse keeper.

This is an easy job; you don't have to work in the fields, and you're protected from the wind and rain.

Niannian first met Chen Zhiyuan on a rainy afternoon.

She helped her father return the hoe he had borrowed from the brigade warehouse.

As soon as I reached the door, I saw a person squatting on the wet bluestone steps, holding a fountain pen and writing something in a hard-covered notebook.

That person was Chen Zhiyuan.

He wrote with great concentration, his brow slightly furrowed, as if the whole world had nothing to do with him.

Niannian curiously tiptoed over and peered closer.

She saw that the notebook contained neatly arranged lines of text, a hundred times better than her father's handwriting.

She recognized a few simple characters, such as "sky," "earth," and "person."

But most of them were complex Chinese characters, none of which she recognized.

Chen Zhiyuan sensed the movement behind him, turned around, and saw a thin little girl with pigtails staring curiously at his notebook with her big, clear eyes as bright as spring water.

"Little sister, what are you looking at?" He smiled, his voice gentle.

"Uncle, what did you write?" Niannian asked in a clear voice, tilting her head up.

She wasn't shy; in this village, apart from those few bad families, all the adults were her "uncles and aunts."

"Poetry," Chen Zhiyuan replied, a hint of melancholy in his eyes.

"Poetry?" Niannian tilted her head. "Is it something like 'The sun sets beyond the mountains, the Yellow River flows into the sea'?"

Her father taught her this song.

Chen Zhiyuan was somewhat surprised; he hadn't expected that this little girl from the mountain village would know about Tang poetry.

The smile in his eyes deepened. "Pretty much, but I wrote this myself."

"Read it to me, okay?" Niannian's eyes sparkled with the most primal thirst for knowledge.

Looking into those pure eyes, Chen Zhiyuan couldn't refuse.

He cleared his throat and, in Mandarin with a provincial capital accent, softly recited:

"The setting sun hangs over distant mountains, and a lone boat is reflected in the nearby water."

"The barking of dogs startles the returning birds; the wind blows through the wheat fields, bringing sorrow."

The poem is short, with only four lines, carrying a touch of melancholy and homesickness.

After listening, Niannian remained silent for a while, her little brows furrowing.

Chen Zhiyuan thought she hadn't understood and was about to explain when he heard Nian Nian speak in an extremely serious tone.

"Uncle, I think the third and fourth sentences could be changed."

Chen Zhiyuan was completely stunned.

A five-year-old child is asked to revise a poem for a university Chinese literature student?

He found it somewhat amusing, but still patiently asked, "Oh? So, what do you think should be changed?"

"‘The barking of dogs startles the birds returning home’ is too ordinary; it lacks imagery." Niannian counted on her fingers, analyzing seriously, "Everyone knows that the dog barks and the birds fly away. But wouldn't it be better if it were ‘The barking of dogs shatters the clear reflection’? The barking of dogs shatters the reflection of the moon in the water, making the sound something visible."

The smile on Chen Zhiyuan's face slowly disappeared.

He stared wide-eyed at the little girl in front of him, as if he had seen some incredible monster.

"Then... what about the fourth sentence?" His voice was a little dry.

"‘The wind blows the wheat fields, a sorrowful sight,’ that's not good." Nian Nian shook her head. "'Waves' is too much, and 'sorrow' is too vague. Besides, it's spring now, where would wheat fields come from?"

"I think it could be changed to 'The evening breeze caresses the wheat ears, the new moon rises above the treetops.' The wind is gentle, blowing through the newly sprouted wheat, and the moon is out. Although it's still a bit lonely, there's hope. It's better than 'sorrow,' isn't it?"

After speaking, she raised her head and looked at Chen Zhi with her clear eyes.

Yuan: "Uncle, are you right?"

Chen Zhiyuan stood there blankly, and the expensive Hero brand fountain pen in his hand fell to the ground with a "thud".

He looked at Niannian, his mind blank.

A dog's bark shatters the clear shadows...

The evening breeze rustles the wheat ears, and the new moon rises above the treetops...

Is this... a poem that a five-year-old girl from a mountain village could come up with?

The artistic conception, the calligraphy, the keen perception!

He's simply... simply a monster!

From that day on, Chen Zhiyuan's life had an extra little "visitor".

Every afternoon, Niannian would appear at the warehouse door on time.

Chen Zhiyuan stopped writing those melancholic poems.

He began to systematically teach Niannian to recognize characters, starting with the most basic traditional Chinese characters.

He discovered that the child's learning ability was even more terrifying than he had imagined.

She could remember every word he taught her.

She could memorize the poems he recited after hearing them only once, and even offer her own insights.

"Uncle, why can't 'the bright moon shines among the pines' be 'the bright moon shines among the bamboo'? Aren't bamboo trees taller?"

"Uncle, in the poem 'Two orioles sing in the green willows,' what kind of bird is an oriole? And why are the green willows green? Can't they be any other color?"

She was like a dry sponge, frantically absorbing all knowledge, and forever retaining that most precious curiosity.

Gu Yanqiu was initially somewhat wary.

He secretly observed Chen Zhiyuan for several days and found that although the young man was somewhat bookish, he was an upright person. The way he looked at Niannian was pure appreciation and affection, without any impurities.

He was finally relieved, and one evening he even brought a small bag of dried mushrooms he had picked himself to the educated youth settlement.

He didn't say anything, but Chen Zhiyuan understood what he meant.

That was a father's most awkward yet most sincere gratitude.

As the days went by, Niannian's knowledge base began to grow explosively under Chen Zhiyuan's tutelage.

She was no longer satisfied with just Tang and Song poetry; she began to develop a strong interest in the books that Chen Zhiyuan had brought to the countryside.

"Self-Study Series on Mathematics, Physics and Chemistry", "Red Flag Magazine", "How the Steel Was Tempered"...

She read those books that adults found boring and tedious with great interest.

Chen Zhiyuan's appearance was like a ray of light, piercing through the closed sky of Chengjiawan and opening a door to a whole new world for Niannian.

In her little world, there was no longer only the mundane details of daily life and neighborhood squabbles.

The vast universe and the dream of poetry and distant places began to emerge.

This laid the solid foundation for her even more amazing performances later on.

That afternoon, Niannian was reading in the warehouse when she suddenly looked up and asked Chen Zhiyuan a question.

"Uncle Chen, the books all say that knowledge is power."

"Does that mean the more knowledge I have, the stronger I will be, and the better I can protect Dad?"

Chen Zhiyuan looked into her expectant eyes and was startled, momentarily at a loss for words.

He nodded, then shook his head.

He wanted to tell her that knowledge is indeed power, but at times, it can also bring endless pain and danger.

Looking into the girl's clear eyes, he finally just smiled and said gently, "Of course. So how much power does Nian Nian want to possess?"

Niannian lowered her head, looking at the complex mechanical diagrams in the book, and said in a very serious but firm tone:

"I want the power to make all the bad guys never dare to bully Dad again!"