Chapter 115: The Former Superior

The first volume of *The Legend of the Condor Heroes* took the mainland martial arts novel market by storm.

This was not entirely unexpected. After all, *The Four Great Constables: Terror in Guandong* had performed quite well, selling over 200,000 copies. The sequel, *The Four Great Constables: Meeting in the Capital*, sold over 300,000 copies per volume, bringing the total for that trilogy to nearly a million. If one were to account for pirated editions, the figures would be even more staggering.

Given China's massive population, anything written to a decent standard is bound to sell. Whether or not it is profitable, however, is another matter entirely. The scourge of piracy is impossible to suppress; for any popular new book, massive quantities of pirated copies usually hit the shelves within a week or two.

With the average person’s purchasing power being quite low and their reading budgets tight—a book priced at twenty-odd yuan could cover a few days of meals—the conditions for piracy were undeniably bolstered.

If copyright protection were robust, a single series like *The Four Great Constables* would have already made Zhang Tan a fortune. Writing books is a lucrative business, especially for classic novels where sales are measured in the millions. Even if a writer only received a yuan or two per copy, they could easily earn several million in revenue.

J.K. Rowling, author of *Harry Potter*, became one of the wealthiest women in the UK thanks to that series, with annual royalty income exceeding one billion dollars. While *Harry Potter* does not have a massive footprint in China and publication numbers were relatively modest, the series still brought her over 15 million yuan in annual income, totaling well over 100 million yuan across all volumes.

China does not yet have a bestseller author on the level of J.K. Rowling, but there are several who pull in annual incomes around the ten-million mark. Back in the nineties, Jin Yong’s net worth had already reached over a billion Hong Kong dollars.

Now, it was Zhang Tan’s turn to shine.

Although he had achieved some initial success—reaching the level of an elite white-collar worker with a seven-figure annual income—he was still some distance away from becoming a "boss" among authors. His works had yet to be adapted, his name was known only to a specific circle of martial arts novel enthusiasts, and he was still very much in the "greenhorn" stage.

The revolution had not yet succeeded; the comrade still needed to strive.

...

Li Yan dropped Zhang Tan off at his rented room near Shuangdun Middle School and drove away.

Zhang Tan began tidying up the place. Having been away for two months, a layer of dust had settled over everything.

Back in the room, Zhang Tan felt a touch of sentimentality; he had almost bid this place farewell. As his income and fame grew, his parents, while treating him more like an adult and no longer restricting him at every turn, still hoped he would prioritize his studies. Consequently, they had proposed that he transfer to a high school in the city.

Zhang Quanshun had a former superior—a man who had been a deputy regimental commander in the 37352 unit years ago. After transitioning to civilian life, he was assigned to the Hefei Municipal Government. Due to the policy of prioritizing military-to-civilian transfers with a half-rank promotion, he was appointed as a deputy department-level official. Over the course of a dozen years, he had climbed a few rungs to become the Director of the Municipal Bureau of Labor and Social Security.

He was a man of some standing in Hefei. Every year, Zhang Quanshun and his wife would pay a visit to this former superior, who remained concerned for his old subordinates—few of whom had made it to Hefei—retaining a sense of camaraderie. During the Lunar New Year last year, Zhang Quanshun had even brought Zhang Tan along, specifically to show off his son’s success in publishing.

At the time, the Director of the Labor Bureau had been delighted, grabbing handfuls of small candies to stuff into Zhang Tan’s pockets.

However, Zhang Tan did not have a particularly good impression of the Director. First, the man’s bureaucratic posturing was painfully obvious, and his speech was full of habitual official jargon. Second, with his potbelly and bloated appearance, it wasn’t hard to guess whether he was a corrupt official or an honest one. Having spent his previous life as a disgruntled youth for a decade, Zhang Tan felt an instinctive aversion to such officials.

On the other hand, the Director’s daughter, Zhang Simeng, was quite attractive. She was a junior at the prestigious Anhui University. With fair skin, a tall stature, and a curvaceous figure, she was blossoming into a woman with a mature, alluring appeal. Living in a comfortable family environment, she carried herself with the air of a pampered socialite.

It was hard to imagine that Zhang Simeng was actually the Director’s daughter.

At the time, Zhang Tan had almost asked for her phone number, but ultimately lacked the confidence and couldn't bring himself to do it. He had only just released his traditional-character edition and was still in a "loser" mindset, feeling instinctively intimidated by the children of officials. He only cracked a few jokes, leaving behind an impression of being humorous and dashing.

Consider it planting a seed.

Just in case there was an opportunity in the future...

Ahem, back to the story.

During the summer break, Zhang Tan’s parents planned to pull some strings with the Director to help Zhang Tan transfer to a school in Hefei—No. 1, No. 6, or No. 8 Middle School, all of which were excellent institutions.

But this met with strong opposition from Zhang Tan.

Life at Shuangdun Middle School was far too carefree; he would have to be out of his mind to agree to go study at a high school in Hefei.

Seeing his opposition, his parents did not press the matter further.

Over the past year or so, the perspectives of Zhang Quanshun and his wife had changed significantly. Their vision had shifted from the small town of Gangji to a much broader horizon, and their thinking had moved away from old-fashioned conservatism, becoming more open-minded.

And so, Zhang Tan was able to continue his life at Shuangdun Middle School.

...

Transitioning from the first year to the second year of high school.

The freshmen arrived, carrying large bags and backpacks, walking into the campus with immense curiosity.

The second-year students strolled in leisurely, surveying the rookies with the air of veterans.

Before Zhang Tan could even step onto campus to critique the new girls, his rented room was already packed.

His classmates, having nothing better to do, had gathered there to brag, gossip, and discuss whether they planned to choose the liberal arts or science track.

School would officially start tomorrow, and they were facing one of the most significant choices of their lives.

"My folks want me to go into science. Detective, which track are you choosing?" Wang Long asked, puffing on a Hongmei cigarette.

Zhu Ran, also smoking, replied, "The Detective will definitely go for liberal arts. His physics and chemistry are a disaster. Zhou Yuxi said a few times she wanted to take first place, only to lose to the Detective."

"I’m planning on liberal arts too," Tang Tongxin said, waving away the smoke in front of her and coughing in complaint. "Can’t you guys smoke a little less?"

Wang Long puffed a smoke ring, acting cool: "Heads may roll, blood may flow, but we can't give up smoking!"

Zhang Tan pointed to the floor. "You smokers better stay behind and clean up for me. I just finished sweeping, and now you’re covering the floor in ash again."

He felt rather speechless. Ever since his rebirth, he had become a flamboyant figure at school and in class, the absolute center of attention. For some reason, his classmates loved tagging along with him, running over to his place whenever they had a chance, treating it like a home base.

Fortunately, Zhang Tan was easygoing and didn't sweat the small stuff; otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to tolerate such noise.

"In my opinion," Zhang Tan said, "when choosing between liberal arts and science, you should follow your interests. Regardless of the track, if you get into college, you'll be able to find a job later. But interest determines whether you can actually learn the material. If you aren't interested in science, studying it will be agonizing, and the same goes for liberal arts."

He paused. "In short, your parents' opinions are just for reference. What to choose is ultimately up to you."

Zhang Tan hoped his words would encourage them to think genuinely about their choices rather than blindly following instructions. Choosing the wrong track was a helpless situation; being forced to bury yourself in subjects you disliked was pure torture.

"Then again, for most of my classmates, it doesn't seem to make much difference which track they choose."

The undergraduate acceptance rate at Shuangdun Middle School was poor; having twenty or thirty students get into college in a year was considered quite good. Distributed across four advanced classes, that meant only six or seven students per class would make it to university.

"I used to be one of those dragging down the average, too," Zhang Tan thought. "As for now, I could probably get into any art school I wanted."

As the leading figure of mainland martial arts novels, surely the Beijing Film Academy or the Central Academy of Drama would be fighting to have him.