Chapter 2 Programming Is Not a Dinner Party
Not long after picking up his uncle, Su Yuanshan's father, Su Xinghe, also returned home after his meeting. The brothers-in-law sat together chatting about everything under the sun, while Su Yuanshan seized the chance to slip into the study and start fiddling with the computer.
He quickly connected the monitor and mouse, pressed the power button, and after a short wait, a blinking cursor appeared on the screen.
Su Yuanshan knew that this was the moment Windows 3.0 waited for him to input that ritualistic command:
—Win.
He chuckled, thinking of the phrase that would later become popular, "Ye Qing Hui" (my youth has returned).
Smiling, he used the clunky trackball mouse to open the desktop menu.
Just as he remembered, although "officially" the computer had been gifted to him, the software installed was clearly intended for his father's use: Pascal, VC/C++, and even Fortran. Whoever had helped Zhang Ke set it up must have known exactly what a computer engineering professor needed.
The 486 computer, equipped with a 50MHz CPU from last year's batch, was significantly faster than the older 386 models but lacked a floating-point unit.
With only 4MB of RAM, no sound card, and just a basic ISA 2D graphics card, it was modest by Western standards but already impressive for China at the time.
Windows hadn't been localized into Chinese yet, and apart from a built-in Solitaire game, there wasn't much else to play with.
Su Yuanshan launched C++ and smiled again at the ancient interface.
Back in 1991, time was still on his side.
He had enough time to build an ahead-of-its-time, user-friendly EDA tool. With this tool, he could open doors to partnerships with semiconductor companies—not for profit, but to build connections.
Especially since Japanese semiconductor firms were already sensing a crisis and looking to open new markets in China.
It was important to remember that back then, Nikon was the leader in lithography machines, and the future juggernaut ASML was barely a rookie in comparison.
Pulling his mind back from these thoughts, Su Yuanshan grabbed a notebook and pencil and began thinking about the biggest problem he would soon face:
—How to convince his father that his son had suddenly become a genius.
...
"Eh?"
A surprised voice came from behind.
Su Yuanshan knew it was his father and uncle entering the study, but he didn't turn around. Instead, he made a show of deep concentration, continuing to write library code.
At that time, compilers hadn't yet standardized; both TurboC/C++ and VC/C++ coexisted in the market.
Zhang Ke, seeing his nephew typing rapidly, assumed he was practicing English. Just as he was about to call out to Su Yuanshan, Su Xinghe grabbed his arm and leaned closer to the screen.
As a computer science professor, Su Xinghe immediately understood what his son was doing.
And that was why he was so surprised—this kid could already write libraries by himself?
Su Yuanshan paused and frowned deeply. Turning around, he greeted them as if just noticing their presence: "Dad, Uncle."
His uncle laughed, patting his shoulder. "Kid, learning English?"
"Hehe, I want to make a piece of software," Su Yuanshan grinned at his uncle, then looked at his father: "Dad, how do you fix crashes caused by dangling pointers?"
No one understood a techie better than another techie.
Thus, Su Yuanshan blocked his father's potential scolding with a technical question—and deliberately kept it simple.
Su Xinghe was momentarily stunned before laughing: "The answer is simple: don't use pointers illegally."
He immediately followed up with another question: "What kind of software are you trying to design?"
"Well, I heard some graduate students at school talking about pagers recently. I looked into how they work and realized their chips are fairly simple, so I thought about tinkering with one. But the computers in the lab only have Protel, which is okay for PCB design but terrible for chip design... So I figured, why not write my own software specialized for chip design?" Su Yuanshan waved his well-thumbed Integrated Circuit textbook with a grin.
His father listened, momentarily dazed, and then laughed: "You rascal! Ambitious! But you've only just started learning C++, haven't you? And now you dare talk about writing an EDA tool?"
Su Yuanshan coughed: "Only just started learning? Please, I'm your son, Professor Su Xinghe! I've been practicing programming since I was a kid—don't you remember teaching me C++ encapsulation when I was twelve?"
That line made Zhang Ke laugh uproariously: "Brother, your son's got a point. A tiger doesn't breed a dog!"
Su Xinghe scratched his head sheepishly but couldn't suppress his smile. The idea of his son inheriting his passion for programming filled him with pride.
Still, Su Xinghe reminded him: "But developing an EDA isn't something you can do alone."
Su Yuanshan smiled: "That's why I plan to build the basic framework first—and then ask you for help, Dad."
Su Xinghe laughed: "Even with my help, it's not enough."
"Then I'll recruit Senior Qin, Senior Tang, and the whole gang from the graduate department if I have to!"
Hearing his son's wildly ambitious talk, Su Xinghe first wondered if the boy had gone crazy. But seeing the clear and determined look in Su Yuanshan's eyes, he realized that his son truly believed this could be done.
After a moment's thought, Su Xinghe gestured for his son to let him sit at the computer.
There wasn't much code yet—mostly basic frontend framework, still entry-level—but he could see immediately: his son's programming habits were excellent—proper comments, clear structure, precise logic.
"Yuanshan, let me explain something to you. A full EDA software suite, with all its auxiliary tools, requires hundreds of thousands to millions of lines of code. Because it's specialized software, it also requires a deep understanding of electronic circuits; otherwise, the code ends up a mess. Plus, you'll need to interface with semiconductor manufacturing companies."
"Also, Huada has been working on EDA software for years already. We even have PandaCAD installed in my office."
Su Xinghe looked at his son, meaning: give up on this foolishness.
"I've seen PandaCAD. It's no good," Su Yuanshan said after a brief pause, smiling: "Dad, I used to think my C++ skills were lacking. But after looking at your source code, I realized... I'm actually pretty good. Heh."
"You little brat," Su Xinghe laughed again: "Thinking you're some kind of prodigy. Fine! Wait here."
Su Xinghe went back to his study and returned with two floppy disks.
"This is a simple electrical component lookup tool written by your Senior Qin. It has some bugs—his C++ is rough, but among the graduate students at our university, he's one of the better ones. If you can fix the bugs, then we'll talk."
"What bug?"
"Figure it out yourself."
With that, Su Xinghe left the room, dragging his brother-in-law along.
...
Su Xinghe believed his son had outstanding programming skills for his age—after all, he had been practicing since he was a child—but even so, he didn't believe a high school student could develop a full-fledged EDA tool.
Not at this stage.
Su Yuanshan dove into the source code.
Qin Weimin, the graduate student who had written it, would later become Su Yuanshan's direct superior at Guoxin. His skills were top-notch, a typical hardcore techie.
Su Yuanshan quickly found the bug, corrected it, and added proper comments. Then, since he was already at it, he began optimizing the entire codebase.
A knock sounded.
"Xiaoshan, dinner's ready," came his uncle's voice.
"Okay! Could you ask Dad to come too?"
Su Yuanshan hit compile one last time, satisfied. He had boosted the program's responsiveness by nearly 50%.
Su Xinghe entered slowly, confident that his son must have struggled.
"Well, brat," he chuckled, "learning that programming isn't like eating a free meal?"
Su Yuanshan smiled slyly: "Dad, not necessarily."
He stood and offered his father the chair.
At the dinner table, there weren't many rules. Zhang Xiuyun was long used to her husband getting lost in his work, so she just filled everyone's bowls and happily chatted with her brother.
Meanwhile, Zhang Ke wasn't really listening; he scooted closer to Su Yuanshan and whispered: "Kid, did you really fix it?"
"Of course," Su Yuanshan said, picking up a piece of cured pork. "Uncle, where are you planning to strike it rich next?"
"That's just it—I don't know. I wanted to ask your Dad, but he didn't have any good ideas. Waste of a computer," Zhang Ke joked.
Su Yuanshan chuckled: "Dad's a scholar. If you want real business advice, you should ask Mom—hey, Mom! What's the hottest money-making opportunity right now?"
"Real estate, of course! Haven't you heard about the madness down south?" Zhang Xiuyun called out, dropping a sausage into Su Xinghe's bowl: "Su Professor! Dinner's ready!"
Su Yuanshan shrugged and whispered to his uncle: "See? Real estate's your best bet."
Zhang Ke laughed wryly: "With such a massive bubble forming, jumping in now is suicide."
Su Yuanshan didn't argue. The real estate bubble in the south was indeed inflating—but the real explosion, the devastating collapse, wouldn't come until June 1993.
Just then, Su Xinghe emerged from the study, his expression unreadable. He sat at the table, picked up his chopsticks, and stared intently at his son.
Su Yuanshan remained calm: "Dad, eat."
"You taught yourself calculus?"
"Yep."
"...You trying to fool me, boy?" Su Xinghe grumbled. Calculus wasn't something first-year high school students casually self-studied.
"I even dabbled in linear algebra. I don't need to master everything; I just learn whatever I need when I need it," Su Yuanshan said cheerfully. "But never mind that—what do you think of your son's skills?"
Su Xinghe mock-threatened him with his chopsticks.
"By the way, Dad, isn't our university planning to establish a School of Electronic Engineering?"
Su Yuanshan ducked the chopstick, smiling mischievously: "You're still young and healthy. You should take on bigger responsibilities!"
Su Xinghe paused, sausage halfway to his mouth.
Seeing the opening, Su Yuanshan pressed on: "First, we create a world-class EDA suite. Then we cultivate microelectronics talent. Who knows? Maybe we'll kickstart China's entire semiconductor industry!"
"Bah," Su Xinghe laughed, putting down his chopsticks. "Tell me your plan."
"It's complicated. I'll organize a report later—with workflow, team needs, all of it."
Seeing how Su Yuanshan fluently rattled off the names of semiconductor factories most people had never even heard of, Su Xinghe finally understood:
His son had been planning this for a long, long time.
"You've been going to my office and the computer lab during break… not to mess around, but to lay the groundwork?"
"What else?"
Su Yuanshan grinned, conveniently forgetting that he had originally been playing a homemade tank game there.
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