Chapter 012: The Detective

Yu Na let the students take a break, use the restroom, and reminded them that they would soon be selecting class officers. Those who wanted to run for a position should start thinking about their campaign speeches. The classroom instantly erupted into a lively commotion; the ambitious students were eager and restless.

In his previous life, Zhang Tan had never run for class office, and this time around, he had even less interest. So, without hesitation, he stood up and headed for the restroom, which was located beyond two adjacent teaching buildings—a fair distance away. The restroom itself resembled a castle, newly constructed, its walls still gleaming white.

On the way, Cao Yuchuan trailed alongside Zhang Tan. Blending into the familiar and unfamiliar crowd, Zhang Tan walked with his hands in his pockets, humming a tune: “On the banyan tree by the pond, the cicadas sing of summer... Why hasn’t that girl from the next class passed by my window yet...”

With his nonchalant gait, hands in pockets, and a song on his lips, Zhang Tan inevitably drew attention. He could feel numerous eyes lingering on him, but that didn’t disrupt his self-absorption.

To be honest, Zhang Tan now felt very much like a man who had lived twice, viewing everything around him as though reliving a long, strange dream. There was none of the usual anxiety—only a relaxed, carefree attitude. Since one could live a lifetime with a frown or with a smile, Zhang Tan chose to smile.

“Hey, look! A beauty!” Cao Yuchuan suddenly interrupted Zhang Tan’s reverie, pointing ahead.

Not far away, three girls were walking side by side, likely just returning from the restroom. Zhang Tan glanced over and instantly recognized them—they had become classmates after the second-year reshuffling.

On the left was an entirely ordinary girl, so unremarkable that Zhang Tan couldn’t recall her name. The girl in the middle was Zhou Chengcheng, who bore a striking resemblance to Faye Wong and was now in Class Two of the first year, one of the “Four Beauties” of their grade. On the right was Liu Luyao, who wore a familiar, practiced smile and looked much like the Japanese actress Yuu Asakura; she, too, was counted among the Four Beauties.

As for the origin of the “Four Beauties of Year One,” Zhang Tan couldn’t quite remember where the moniker came from. It seemed to have started as an inside joke in Class Two, which boasted four particularly attractive girls. Before long, the title had spread and become a legend across the entire grade.

In Zhang Tan’s opinion, the label was rather unfair, for Jing Liu was just as lovely, if not more so—innocent and pure. These Four Beauties, meanwhile, were surrounded by unsavory rumors: early romances, flirtatiousness, and the like. After all, Shuangdun High wasn’t a prestigious school; its student body was uneven in quality, especially compared to the schools in the county seat of Changfeng.

“If I recall, three of the Four Beauties ended up in Class Seven in our second year...” Zhang Tan mused, observing these unpretentious girls of the era.

He added to Cao Yuchuan, “We should take a good look around our class and pick out our own Four Beauties.”

“We can’t let Class Two steal all the glory.”

“I’ve already checked out all the girls in our class—none are especially pretty,” Cao Yuchuan replied.

“My, that was quick—you’ve already surveyed all the girls in our class?”

Cao Yuchuan blushed slightly. “There are only about twenty girls, after all.”

“Thirty boys, twenty-four girls—fifty-four students in total,” Zhang Tan reported precisely. Why did he remember the number so clearly? It was because, in his first year, he’d been so obsessed with the game “Legend of Mir” that his grades had plummeted. In a mock test, he had ranked fifty-fourth in the class.

“You’re just as observant as I am. You’re checking out the girls, while I observe everyone and try to deduce their backgrounds. Have you read the complete works of Sherlock Holmes?”

“I’ve heard of them.”

“Holmes could deduce a person’s situation from the smallest details; I’m learning from him.”

“Really? Then what can you deduce about me?” Cao Yuchuan’s interest was piqued.

Zhang Tan glanced at him sidelong, searching his memory while keeping a calm exterior. “From what I can tell, you’re from Luoji Township, with one younger brother and one younger sister... and you like playing pool.”

“Wow, you really guessed it! I’ve never told anyone I have a brother and a sister.”

“It wasn’t a guess—it was deduction.”

Even after relieving himself, Cao Yuchuan was still puzzling over how Zhang Tan could have known about his siblings. In his eyes, Zhang Tan was growing more enigmatic and impressive.

“How did you learn to do that—just from reading?”

“By learning, observing, listening, and thinking as much as possible.”

Still half-convinced by Zhang Tan’s bluff, Cao Yuchuan returned to the classroom muttering about it. Then, for reasons unknown, he began to play with Zhang Tan’s name. “Hey, Zhang Tan—if you say your name backwards, it’s Tan Zhang—Detective Zhang!”

“You’ve got potential, kid. You’ve uncovered my nickname; yes, from now on, you can call me Detective Zhang.”

Detective was indeed Zhang Tan’s nickname. High school students loved to give each other nicknames; to go without one was practically a sign of being an outcast. This time, however, his nickname had arrived a few days early.

The class officer elections were rather dull. No one really knew each other yet, so the results were entirely based on first impressions. In the end, Ding Chunlong, with his prematurely mature looks, was elected class monitor for Class Five of Year One, pending a one-month probation period. If he performed well, he’d be confirmed in the role. Tang Tongxin, a girl with striking tiger teeth, became the Youth League secretary, while Zhou Yuxi, whose penmanship was exquisite, was chosen as sports rep.

Who became a class officer was of no consequence to Zhang Tan. After a noisy morning, all the trivialities were settled.

Afternoon classes began in earnest, with mathematics as the first lesson. The textbook, issued by the People’s Education Press, had a blue cover featuring a computer and a function curve on its screen.

The math teacher was Luo Jinsong, a tall, stout man with a booming voice. Under his teaching, it was nearly impossible to fall asleep.

Zhang Tan couldn’t sleep anyway. Flipping through the math book, he admired the elegant lines of the function curves but had no idea what their convoluted forms meant.

“All the things I learned back then, I’ve returned to the teachers,” Zhang Tan realized ruefully. He now found even following the lessons a struggle and thought to himself, “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have paid the tuition. The product’s gone, and the money’s lost.”

Looking at the earnest faces around him, Zhang Tan felt increasingly out of place in this era.

“I might as well write my martial arts novel,” he decided.

Opening his notebook, he buried himself in writing. The story of “The Four Great Constables Shock Guandong” was short to begin with, and the more he wrote, the more fluent his pen became. He had always been a capable writer, and with memories of the future as his template, his writing speed soared. His wrist soon rediscovered the familiar rhythm of his school days; the feeling of writing was ingrained in his very bones.

When the forty-five-minute class ended, Zhang Tan found he had written nearly fifteen hundred words. “A class period, forty-five minutes, and I wrote fifteen hundred words—soon I’ll be up to two thousand. Not bad at all.”

At this rate, he’d soon reach ten thousand words and be ready to submit his work for publication.