Previously, he had only thought that Zhou Cheng learned everything quickly and would surely get into a good high school and a good university. His hopes for the boy had originally rested on what would happen several years down the line.
How could he have imagined that the boy would already exceed his expectations now?
With his youngest son so capable, he was naturally delighted and proud as a father.
Yet alongside his pride and delight, a sense of unease welled up in Zhuang Chaoying.
It was not as though he did not know how high magazines set the bar for accepting submissions.
He might never have eaten pork, but he had seen plenty of pigs run.
Growing increasingly uneasy, he could not help placing both hands on Zhou Cheng's shoulders and bending down. No longer caring that Song Ying was there, he grew serious. "Jingcheng, tell your dad the truth. You didn't copy something out of another newspaper or magazine and submit it, did you?"
Zhuang Chaoying could hardly be blamed for worrying.
Information was terribly difficult to access these days. Someone could copy a short piece from one region word for word, put their own name on it, and submit it in another province.
If such a thing went undiscovered, that was one thing. Once exposed, however, not only would those responsible be held accountable, their reputations would be utterly ruined.
Given Zhou Cheng's age, probably few people would believe he was the plagiarist. The person outsiders would suspect was him!
"Dad, what are you thinking?"
Zhou Cheng naturally understood Zhuang Chaoying's concerns, but he still could not resist rolling his eyes at him.
With everything packed into his head, even if he did not write anything original, he had more works to pay homage to than he