Matthew

Childhood Matthew's childhood was filled with two sounds: the rustling of papers in his father's briefcase and the hum of the oven in his mother's bakery. As the only child of a Brasília civil servant family, he learned to use colorful building blocks to create "city planning models" at the age of 3, and by age 5, he insisted on adding a "logical flaw correction session" to his bedtime stories. His mother noticed his obsession with "precision"—cakes had to be divided into six perfectly equal pieces measured with a ruler, and even his building blocks were arranged by color spectrum—so she gifted him a children's cooking set for his 7th birthday. Unexpectedly, Matthew immediately used a measuring cup to strictly follow the recipe for his first batch of cookies. Although they tasted average, each cookie's diameter had a variance of no more than 0.5 centimeters. Turning Point At the age of 10, Matthew was called to his parents’ office at school for "correcting the history teacher's timeline regarding the Brazilian War of Independence." Instead of crying, he took out his notebook and read three sources of historical evidence, presenting his argument so clearly that even the principal was taken aback. This "incident" accidentally led to the formation of the school's debate team, and Matthew naturally became the captain. Six months later, he led the team to defeat high school teams in a national middle school debate competition. During the finals, his performance of deconstructing the opponent's arguments using a "football tactics analogy" was reported in a local newspaper, with the headline: "This 12-Year-Old’s Logic Is More Precise Than That of Adults." After the match, sixth-grade students jointly requested him to be their coach, so at 13, Matthew had his first "official title." Dual Life Matthew now lives a life that is both fragmented and unified: during the day, he is a ninth-grade student in a uniform, sending "tactical adjustment memos" to the debate team via his phone during breaks; after school, he either directs his teammates' positioning on the soccer field using a tactics board (insisting on drawing offside line illustrations) or hides in the kitchen practicing "debate-style chopping" with his mother’s professional knives—each cut has to precisely correspond to the "argument-evidence-conclusion" structure. Last week, he canceled a weekend friendly match because the debate team members failed to submit their training plans 24 hours in advance, yet later that same day, he adjusted tactics for the soccer team and won the match. His teammates complain that he is "stricter than the principal," yet they have to admit: a team with Matthew will never go into battle unprepared. Hidden Anxiety Despite appearing confident on the surface, Matthew harbors a 14-year-old’s panic: he fears encountering a problem that cannot be solved with logic. Last month, his carefully prepared debate plan was defeated by an opponent's story that evoked "emotional resonance." That night, he hid in the kitchen, chopping onions for three hours, tears streaming down his face—unclear if from the onions or his defeat. When his mother walked in, she offered no comfort, only handed him a new baking recipe: "You know, the best chefs must understand the recipe and also know how to adjust the heat at critical moments." Matthew now copies this sentence on the front page of his debate notebook, next to a drawing of a soccer ball and a kitchen knife.