Chapter 170 Washing the Car

The Anhui provincial college entrance examination score thresholds were released. The premier undergraduate cutoff was 561 points, while the general undergraduate cutoff was 520 points.

Looking at his score of 407, Zhang Tan felt quite embarrassed to face anyone. After finishing the exams, he had been boasting to the gatekeeper old man that he could score around 430. Now he realized that every single subject yielded a few points lower than he had expected.

He was either aiming higher than his actual abilities or simply being careless.

No matter what, for an art student, this score was still a very respectable achievement.

...

"Beijing Film Academy it is, then. Beijing Film Academy is also a prestigious institution. Yangyang wants to be a director, and only by going there can he truly learn something." Tan Mingxia chewed on the title of Peking University for a moment, then chuckled derisively.

Ordinary people would be overjoyed just to get into any university, yet here she was, fretting over which university her son should attend.

Peking University or Beijing Film Academy—what difference did it really make?

With that thought, Tan Mingxia stopped worrying blindly about her son's education.

"What Yangyang makes from writing a single book is enough to outearn what others make in a lifetime. Even though he spends money a bit lavishly, he is not the type to squander his family's wealth. Neither his father nor I will ever need to worry about him for the rest of our lives."

As usual, before noon at half-past eleven, after having lunch at home, she would head out to a mahjong parlor in the residential compound to play for a while.

"Elder Sister Tan, off to play mahjong?" asked Teacher Liu's family member from the first floor with a warm greeting.

Tan Mingxia paused, stopping at the exit of the stairwell. "That's right, I'm going to sit at the mahjong parlor. Xiaojuan, have you eaten yet?"

"Just finished. Haven't even washed the dishes yet, just came out to throw away some trash."

"You should make young Teacher Liu wash them."

Xiaojuan pretended to complain, saying, "That man of mine is lazy with his hands and feet, can't make any money, and doesn't want to exert himself, yet he struts around the house acting like a grand lord all day long."

Tan Mingxia smiled and said, "A state-employed teacher—that's a wonderful profession. Why would you need to make that much money? Living a comfortable little life is more than enough. Who knows how many people envy the two of you? One is a school teacher, and the other is a kindergarten teacher. Both are respected professions."

"Who would envy us? Everyone envies you, Elder Sister Tan, for having a great writer for a son. Tan Zhang's novels are so well-written and adapted into television dramas. One of them is so wildly popular right now—out of the one or two hundred households in and around our compound, who doesn't know your son's name?"

"Oh my, oh my," Tan Mingxia hurriedly said with modesty. "He just happened to take the right path. He didn't give his father and me anything to worry about."

"When has Tan Zhang ever given you cause to worry? You and Boss Zhang will enjoy blessings that never end for the rest of your lives, Elder Sister Tan."

"It's just the fate of laborers. We farmed half our lives in the countryside, and now living in the city, my whole body feels uncomfortable. His father has it a bit better, helping his son set up and manage the company, busy all day long. I really have nothing to do; if I don't go play some mahjong in the afternoon, I wouldn't even know what to do with myself."

"Now that is what you call a blessing."

"What kind of blessing... Oh my, I can't talk anymore. You go ahead and be busy, Xiaojuan, I'm heading to the mahjong parlor. If I go too late, there won't be any seats left."

After exchanging a few polite pleasantries with Xiaojuan, Tan Mingxia hurried off toward the mahjong parlor.

She claimed to be in charge of logistics at the Luzhou Studio, but cleaning was handled by hired professional cleaners, the studio didn't provide meals, a meal allowance was already factored into her salary, and office procurement only required her signature. Therefore, Tan Mingxia genuinely had very little to do at the studio. She would drop by the studio in the morning and simply play mahjong all afternoon.

Playing mahjong back in the countryside was a fine way to pass the afternoon hours.

In the past, Tan Mingxia used to play mahjong with her heart in her throat—she loved playing, but she was terrified of losing money. The joy of winning would last only a fleeting moment, while the pain of losing would lead to long sighs for a long time. Now, things were different. Her son's studio made serious money, and when she went to play mahjong with others now, she did so with a great deal of boldness, no longer afraid of losing.

And strangely enough, she used to be afraid of losing, but the more afraid she was, the more she lost. Now that she wasn't afraid of losing, she cared less and won more. After spending a long time playing mahjong at the parlor, she won more often than she lost, and winning extra money naturally put her in a good mood.

Not to mention she could constantly hear the flattery of others.

Seeing her win a hand, some fellow players would say with a hint of jealousy, "Sister Tan has won again? Your luck can't possibly be this good. The book *The Legend of the Condor Heroes* written by your son is enough for us to live on for a lifetime—let the rest of us win a few rounds, won't you?"

At times like this, Tan Mingxia would reply with great confidence, "As long as you have the skill, feel free to win whatever money I've placed on the table."

Older acquaintances would also try to meddle matchmaking: "Little Tan, has your son started dating anyone yet? Would you like me to introduce someone to him? I know a young lady whose parents are both in business on quite a large scale, and the girl is not only pretty but also well-read and sensible."

Tan Mingxia would then shake her head with a smile, "My Zhang Tan is still young, not even twenty yet. He's not in a hurry to date right now. He's about to go off to university soon, and who knows if he'll find someone there?"

Someone would follow up by asking, "Which school is your Zhang Tan attending?"

Tan Mingxia would pretend to say nonchalantly, "Peking University and Fudan University both came looking to have him attend their schools, but Zhang Tan is going to study at the Beijing Film Academy. He got accepted into the directing department of Beijing Film Academy during this year's art exams."

"He's going to be a director?"

"That's what he says, but it's ultimately up to his own wishes. He has his own ideas, and as his parents, we just hope everything goes smoothly for him and back him up from behind."

"Tsk tsk, Peking University, Fudan, and the Film Academy... Tan Mingxia, you truly are a blessed person."

...

Zhang Tan parked his car at the entrance of the department store, waiting for someone.

His older sister, Zhang Yan, had arranged to meet up with her college classmates in Hefei today to go shopping, and after buying a pile of things, she called to ask if Zhang Tan had time to come pick them up.

Zhang Tan had spent a very leisurely summer. The ripples stirred up by *The Legend of the Condor Heroes* were peerless, pushing him right to the forefront of public attention. Countless companies sought to purchase the television and film adaptation rights to his novels or discuss new book collaborations, and wave after wave of reporters rushed to interview him.

However, Zhang Tan's Luzhou Studio was not run haphazardly. All partnership inquiries had to go through the Luzhou Studio, and Zhang Tan himself rarely stepped in directly. As for reporter interviews, they were fended off by Li Yan, Ma Weiwei, and others; only fairly prominent media outlets were granted interviews with him personally.

Therefore, even though storms raged outside, they didn't cause him any major disruptions.

Every day, he ate and slept as usual, went to the gym when it was time for fitness, and went out to enjoy himself when he pleased—though he did his best to ensure he spent three or four hours writing novels every day.

With his speed of three thousand words an hour, even without rushing manuscripts, he could still spit out six or seven thousand words a day.

*The Four Great Constables: Resisting Water in the Cold* was currently on bookstore shelves, and sales of the first volume had already exceeded eighty thousand copies, with printing presses still running overtime. As Zhang Tan's fame grew larger, the novel's sales were practically guaranteed. He was the most influential author in mainland China over the past two years, even though the mainland's martial arts novel atmosphere was far inferior to that of Hong Kong and Taiwan back in the day.

For traditional martial arts novels like the ones Zhang Tan wrote, a complete set cost at least over a hundred yuan to purchase, leaving many martial arts-loving readers with tight budgets. If the boxed sets weren't so expensive, sales figures would undoubtedly have seen massive growth. One must remember that last year, Guo Han's published book *Illusion* sold a full two million copies, and Han Jingming also had several novels that sold over two million copies.

In terms of single-volume sales figures, Zhang Tan lagged behind those two post-80s youth literature authors.

If pirated copies were factored in, however, that would be a different story.

Many pirated editions compiled an entire book set into a single massive volume, priced not much differently from a single legitimate book, while segmented pirated versions could be bought for just a few yuan. Thus, piracy was at its worst for Zhang Tan's novels, and every time the publishing house released a title, they had to print copies in advance, ensuring a sufficient quantity was printed before putting them on shelves.

Yet printing plants had their insiders too. When *The Return of the Condor Heroes* was published, pirated copies of one volume had already started flooding the market before the legitimate version even hit the shelves.

Though furious, there was nothing he could do about it.

Still, reality allowed Zhang Tan to exercise a bit of Ah Q spirit, because famous authors from Hong Kong and Taiwan had it even worse. Their novels published in the mainland were basically all pirated books, and very few publishing houses ever paid them royalties. After all, politically, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and the mainland belonged to different systems, and Hong Kong and Taiwan authors had few avenues to fight piracy.

Zhang Tan's Luzhou Studio was currently running around filing lawsuits all day long, which could, to some extent, constrain the pirating behavior of large publishing houses. As long as large publishing houses refrained from piracy, even if small-time peddlers pirated the works, their distribution channels were limited, leaving a portion of profit margins for legitimate books.

In short, piracy in China was severe, but the market was also gradually expanding, and Zhang Tan's writing was more than enough to make his family wealthy.

Recently, Li Yan mentioned to Zhang Tan that Anhui Literature and Art Publishing House had decided to reprint *The Legend of the Condor Heroes* and reissue it once more, capitalizing on the blazing momentum of the television broadcast sweeping the nation to make another wave of sales.

With every reprint, royalties had to be paid out again—and that was pure money.

Major film and television companies fighting over copyright were, once again, pure money.

"I've made money, made money, and I don't even know how to spend it!"

"With my left hand I buy a Nokia, with my right hand I buy a Motorola!"

Humming a nameless tune, he opened the car door. The sunlight streamed in, blazing hot. His older sister and her classmate were dawdling and lingering—who knew what they were dragging their feet about, as they still hadn't shown up.

Zhang Tan retrieved a pair of sunglasses from inside the car and perched them on the bridge of his nose to block the glare.

Checking himself in the rearview mirror, he decided he looked quite handsome, and only then did he step out of the car.

He opened the trunk, pulled out a woolen brush, and carefully brushed the dust off the Audi A6. Although Zhang Tan frequently drove this car, it was nominally registered under his father Zhang Quansun, who cherished it beyond measure. Every time he saw Zhang Tan get dust on the car, he would meticulously take a brush or towel and wipe it clean.

Zhang Tan would occasionally pitch in and help wipe it down.

It wasn't that he cherished the car all that much, but rather that every time he saw the look of heartache in Zhang Quansun's eyes over the vehicle, as a son, he found it hard to bear. By wiping it clean, Zhang Quansun could suffer a little less heartache.

Zhang Tan had already decided that after the summer vacation ended, he would go to Beijing to study directing, and by the way, buy a 2004 Audi A8 in Beijing. He planned to buy the 4.2L top-tier configuration, which cost around 1.3 million yuan.

When it came to material comforts, Zhang Tan never had the heart to wrong himself—if he was going to buy a car, he would buy a good one.

Sports cars were too flashy, and since Zhang Tan wasn't a street racer and didn't have a great pursuit of speed, he politely declined brands like Porsche. BMW belonged to the second-generation wealthy heirs, so Zhang Tan directly ruled it out. Mercedes-Benz was quite nice, luxurious, and imposing, but slightly too rigid, making it less than an ideal choice either.

In reality, Zhang Tan leaned more toward Cadillac, but he disliked their older models, and the new models hadn't entered China yet. Thus, he settled for his second choice and selected the Audi brand. The finest offering from Audi was the A8, which featured a remarkably low-key exterior that, at a glance, was hard to distinguish from an A6.

"This is called understated luxury, which fits my personality quite well." While wiping down the car, Zhang Tan daydreamed about his very own ride.

(To be continued.)

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