Huang Xueli shifted forward in his seat.
"Teacher, you've been retired for quite a few years now. From your perspective, how do you see the times we live in?"
Song Yi picked up his teacup, took a sip, and set it down.
"That famous line from Dickens fits perfectly: it was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
Wang Xiaoliang chimed in. "Then let's talk about the bad today, not the good."
Song Yi smiled and pointed a finger in the air.
"All right, you've come a long way, young man. Let's talk about the bad, then."
He paused.
"Take what we were just discussing. Xiaoliang, you won that supermarket contract on your own merits back then, didn't you? There were no private deals between us, correct?"
"Correct."
"But did anyone believe that? Most people probably believed them. Huang knew we'd been smeared. Did he speak up? He didn't."
Huang Xueli's expression stiffened.
Song Yi waved a hand. "I'm not harping on this particular incident. I'm talking about a broader phenomenon. Most people would think Huang did the right thing. Protecting yourself is only human nature. But if everyone does that, fewer and fewer people will speak the truth."
He paused.
"Look at academic fraud these days. Some people plagiarize their entire papers and even become professors before they're exposed. Did nobody notice before then? Of course not. Everyone knew, and nobody said anything."
Wang Xiaoliang didn't interrupt.
"And what's even more outrageous? Some people say-all writing is copied anyway." Song Yi's voice grew heavy. "What does that mean? Plagiarism is theft. Someone spends months, even years, working away at their writing, and a plagiarist takes it, copies and pastes it, makes a few changes, and it becomes theirs. That's theft. Stealing someone else's wisdom, their hard