In the Stillness of Change
- Teenie Zhang
- Jun 26
- 5 min read
“In truth, we are all pushed forward by time. Even if you could travel back, many things would still unfold the same — for you are still yourself.”
He sat firmly on the sofa, without overwhelm, without pressure. There was a quiet acceptance in his eyes, as if he had long made peace with the turning of the world. From his chat, I could only feel the optimism, the chillness, and the calmness nestled in his heart. This truly struck a chord with me.
Mr. Yingkai’s chillness derives from his childhood. His parents afforded him a lot of freedom when he was a child, entrusting him with the liberty to make his own choices. He recalled that he once stole some money from his home to buy a game console and thought that his parents had never figured it out. Only recently did his mother jokingly tell his wife about the stealing he had once done.
“I thought my parents never knew. I love their way of education.”

During his childhood years in Hongkou, every day after school, he would take his toys with him to wander across Lu Xun Park, walk on North Sichuan Road, stroll through the local food stalls, read books in the Xinhua bookstore, and pass by the famous Hongkou Football Stadium.
Then, he attended the High School Affiliated to Fudan University. There he started dating, which brought him familiarity with every cinema, restaurant, and shop nestled within the Wujiaochang area.
There were no restrictions for him; there was only independence and freedom — he would make his own decisions.
He seemed to easily surpass his peers in academics — he had never taken any after-school lessons.
Before college, he seemed to be enjoying life in every aspect.
I told him that he was the “overachieving kid from next door,” which he soon dismissed.
“For the overachieving kid, there might be another overachieving kid from next door, especially in the college years.”
Due to underperforming in the Gaokao, he failed to get into his dream school, Tsinghua University, and instead enrolled in Fudan University, majoring in Math.
He claimed that those four years were torture for him. There were classmates who could spend only an hour reading a paper, while he had to spend an entire week finishing it. The high scores and grades that were easy to get before became hard; his low GPA made those four years tough to endure.
“Those years drained me — I found them both exhausting and heartbreaking.”
After graduating from college, he followed the route of success by societal standards. He joined a large company and started a stable job, just as any Fudan graduate might do. However, he was not satisfied with his current life, as the oppressive environment and the late working hours were unbearable. His path wasn’t shaped by what society deems worthy, but by his own longing for a life he genuinely yearns for. He thus decided to quit his job and transition to becoming a teacher—first at the international division of his original high school, and then at YK Pao School. This is his seventh year at YK Pao.
“Unlike working in the office, where I have to interact with older people the majority of the time, teaching in school means I am able to interact with more younger people. I absolutely love my job.”
I asked him whether he regretted any decision he had made. He paused for a moment, then looked me in the eyes and said unshakably, “No.”
After some random chatting, I asked him about his favorite books from his childhood. His answer astounded me, barely allowing me to recognize him as a math teacher. He loved The Da Vinci Code and Angels and Demons when he was young; the religious aspect of the books truly attracted him. Now, he enjoys Isaac Asimov’s Foundation and writings by Cixin Liu.
“When I read a book, if I truly enjoy it, I will definitely search the author up and read other books or articles written by them.”
During his spare time, he also enjoys playing video games, watching football games, and traveling.
His face lit up when talking about video games. He plays a wide range — from Xbox to PlayStation to Switch. He often plays League of Legend, a video game he began playing during college. Occasionally, he even plays video games with his students, enjoying this unexpected and unique aspect of the student-teacher relationship.
Everyone seems to be aware of Mr. Yingkai’s passion for football — it’s something he simply cannot conceal. While many identify him as a loyal Manchester United supporter, few know that he is also a devoted fan of the China National Football Team, despite their consistently underwhelming performances. His unwavering hope that China will one day excel in football is something he cannot hide.
Traveling also plays a significant role in his life. Every summer and during long holidays, he embarks on journeys around the world with his wife. This summer, they plan to visit Turkey. In the past two summers, they traveled to New Zealand and Australia, embracing new experiences — bungee jumping, trekking across a glacier-covered mountain, and staying in a cozy B&B near a lake.


“Having lived in Shanghai for the past thirty years, the city has become deeply familiar to us. My wife and I simply love exploring the unknown — that’s why traveling is the ideal choice.”

When asked about his favorite place to visit, he immediately responded: Old Trafford, the home of Manchester United. He has been there four times already, yet each visit still brings back a sense of surreal awe. A stadium he had only ever seen on screen finally materialized before him — in real life.
“Visiting Old Trafford is something I’ll never forget — it truly feels like a dream come true.”

I laughed, “If you truly enjoy something, you are definitely the one to commit the most to it. You would make your own decision, and completely follow it.”
He agreed, “If I truly enjoy something and find passion in it, I become fully committed — determined and deeply enthusiastic.”
“There are a lot of chances in your life. Remember to try to enjoy it.”
At that moment, I felt like I was no longer a student interviewing a teacher, but a child listening to an older brother sharing stories in the warm, amber-lit common room. The world slowed down. The grown-up he is now — a teacher, a husband, a traveler — seemed to dissolve, leaving behind the boy wandering through Lu Xun Park with his toys, stopping by street stalls, thumbing through books in the Xinhua bookstore, and glancing at the old football stadium with wide-eyed wonder.
I could almost see him — carefree, curious, and full of quiet dreams.
And maybe, deep down, that boy has never really gone away.
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