Chapter 028: Famous Quotes from Eminent Figures

“Hello, is this Zhang Tan? I’m Wang Conglun, the editor-in-chief of ‘Legend of Now and Then: Martial Arts Edition.’ We’ve received your manuscript, ‘The Four Famous Constables Shake the Northeast,’ and have decided to serialize it in our trial issue…”

Early in the morning, Zhang Tan received good news: the magazine had received his story and transferred the payment for his manuscript. After proofreading, the total word count was twenty-three thousand one hundred, and at the rate of two hundred per thousand words, the payment amounted to four thousand six hundred yuan. After tax deduction, it was four thousand three hundred and five yuan.

The money was directly deposited into Zhang Tan’s bank account.

Actually, ‘Legend of Now and Then’ usually pays according to the publication schedule. If Zhang Tan hadn’t specifically requested an advance and if the magazine weren’t eager to win him over, the payment wouldn’t have arrived so quickly.

With this, Zhang Tan’s assets, which had dropped below one thousand yuan, suddenly soared to over five thousand.

For a student, five thousand yuan was a small fortune. Prices weren’t as outrageous as they would be in the future; one yuan could buy a hearty lunch, and five thousand yuan was truly a lot.

“Next week is the holiday. I’ll go home, buy some food and drinks for my folks, show some filial piety. I’ll also find a chance to talk to my parents—Dad will be laid off soon, so it’d be best to open an internet café. And Fourth Aunt and Second Sister-in-law both work at the canning factory, which is also facing layoffs; maybe I can find a way for them to start a small business too.”

Zhang Tan had plenty of relatives—after all, he was from the countryside, surrounded by a throng of aunts and uncles. Though Anhui was poor, it valued clan bonds, and most relatives lived close together, so their relationships remained strong.

Having been given a second chance at life, Zhang Tan couldn’t just look out for himself; he had to give his kin a helping hand as well.

…

It was still raining outside, with no sign of clearing up. Unable to exercise outdoors, Zhang Tan lazed in the classroom, listening as Cao Yuchuan and two girls in the front row, Gao Jie and Zhu Dandan, chatted animatedly.

In his previous life, Zhang Tan hadn’t noticed that Cao Yuchuan was such a chatterbox.

Their conversation, somehow, drifted to the topic of looks. Gao Jie and Zhu Dandan said Cao Yuchuan looked odd—not fat, but with chubby cheeks and not quite handsome.

Cao Yuchuan protested, “I think I look alright! When I walk down the street, people turn their heads!”

Zhu Dandan shook her head, “You don’t fit my standard of handsome.”

Gao Jie agreed, “Nor mine.”

“How is that possible? Maybe your standards are off.” Cao Yuchuan replied weakly.

Gao Jie saw Zhang Tan resting his chin on one hand, gazing out the window lost in thought, and tapped him: “Zhang Tan, what do you think?”

“In my eyes, I don’t notice boys,” Zhang Tan replied coolly. Still, he gave Cao Yuchuan his own assessment: “As for you, at first glance, you’re nothing special. But when you look closer…”

Page 2

Cao Yuchuan pressed, “When you look closer, what?”

Zhang Tan said lightly, “When you look closer, it’s even worse than at first glance.”

“Ha ha.” Gao Jie and Zhu Dandan burst out laughing.

Cao Yuchuan’s face instantly darkened, and after a while he retorted, “You’re not much to look at either.”

“Is that so?”

“Zhu Dandan, Gao Jie, be honest—doesn’t Zhang Tan look pretty ordinary too?”

Gao Jie and Zhu Dandan scrutinized Zhang Tan carefully.

Zhang Tan turned to face them. Zhu Dandan was petite, with attractive features, though her lips were a bit too dark, giving her appearance an odd edge. Gao Jie’s features were less delicate, but together they gave her a feminine charm.

Raising his brow, Zhang Tan flashed Gao Jie a flirtatious look, oozing mischief: “Ho-you-doing?”

“You forgot the ‘are’—the linking verb,” Gao Jie said, covering her mouth as she laughed.

Zhang Tan waved his hand, “No, you don’t need to say ‘are.’”

Cao Yuchuan seized the moment to mock him, “Without ‘are,’ it’s grammatically wrong.”

Zhu Dandan joined in: “Yesterday the English teacher just explained linking verbs. Weren’t you listening?”

Zhang Tan looked at Cao Yuchuan, then at Zhu Dandan, and finally at Gao Jie. He blinked, “Haven’t you ever watched ‘Friends’? ‘Ho-you-doing’—Joey’s classic line. In spoken English, you can drop the ‘are.’”

‘Friends’—the American TV series also known as ‘Six of Us’—began airing in 1994. By 2001, the seventh season was out, and Monica and Chandler were about to get married. It had become a benchmark for American sitcoms, topping the list of the 100 greatest American shows in TV Magazine.

‘Friends’ had stellar ratings in North America, always in the top ten, with single episodes reaching fifty-three million viewers.

The characters felt alive, as if they were real Americans: Monica, with her controlling nature; Ross, ever so meticulous; Rachel, once a rich girl; Chandler, always cracking dry jokes; Phoebe, quirky as ever; and Zhang Tan’s favorite, Joey, the poor playboy.

Joey was broke, an actor who nearly starred in adult films, often unsure where his next meal would come from, and endearingly goofy. But Joey was handsome—despite his poverty and silliness, he always managed to attract girlfriends and charm women. His signature pickup line was “Ho-you-doing?”

Every time he met a beautiful woman, Joey would strike a seductive pose and greet her with, “Ho-you-doing?”

It was equivalent to “How are you?” or “How’s it going?”—a common greeting in English. The grammatically correct form is “How are you doing?” but in everyday speech, “are” is often omitted. It’s all about the feel; as long as it’s understood, it works.

Page 3

The grammar debate was merely a passing moment; soon the conversation returned to Zhang Tan’s looks.

“Actually, Zhang Tan, you’re a bit handsome—quite pleasant to look at,” Gao Jie said.

Zhu Dandan added, “Yeah, your features are nice, and together they look good. Definitely more handsome than Cao Yuchuan.”

Cao Yuchuan, caught in the crossfire, was about to protest, but Zhang Tan beat him to it: “Come on, comparing me to Cao Yuchuan? Are we even in the same league? Don’t drag down my level, alright?”

“Well, that’s true. Looks aren’t everything for guys—talent matters most. Zhang Tan, you’re really talented, writing novels and all. It’s so admirable,” Gao Jie said, full of genuine admiration.

Perhaps, in their eyes, being able to write novels was a remarkable skill.

Zhang Tan put his hand in front of Gao Jie’s face, tilting his head at a sorrowful forty-five degrees, gazing out the window at the drifting clouds: “Don’t fall for me—I’m just a legend.”

“Huh?”

“Haha!”

“Zhang Tan, you don’t have to be so witty!”

“You’re killing me—how did you even come up with that?”

…

An old, overused line, yet even now it made everyone burst out laughing.

Zhang Tan had only said it casually, but the laughter it sparked was unexpectedly explosive, as if his words always caused a stir. After a few classes, the whole class was quoting “I’m just a legend,” and the show-off students made “Don’t fall for me” their go-to phrase.

As the author of this “famous saying,” Zhang Tan’s image became synonymous with humor and wit—and sometimes wit is linked with talent.

“There’s a genius in Class Five of Year One named Zhang Tan.”

This quietly became one of the favorite gossip topics among the freshmen.

He was already a figure of note; now he stood out even more.