Chapter 042: Worldview

Knowing what is right is easy; doing it is hard.

With the mentality of a thirty-year-old uncle, Zhang Tan naturally understood many truths. For example, showing off in front of classmates is a high-level thing to do; for another, teachers should be given full respect rather than confronted; for yet another, one should conduct oneself with propriety and avoid frivolous behavior; and, indeed, he ought to seize the advantage of rebirth to make money quickly, marry a rich and beautiful woman, and ascend to the pinnacle of life.

Yet, such a Zhang Tan found it hard to truly act accordingly.

In front of his classmates, he unconsciously adopted the tone of an adult, his mindset unable to align with theirs. When Luo Jinsong had him stand up, he tried to ease the relationship, but overlooked the disparity of their roles—one a teacher, the other a student. For a student to seek equality was essentially challenging the teacher’s authority.

A few words in, and his temper flared; all those notions of respecting teachers were thrown out the window.

If society were an operating system, and individuals the software that run on it, then it was clear Zhang Tan had become software compatible with Indos-10, but the society of 2001 was still running Indos-98. The two were hardly compatible. Zhang Tan could only keep patching himself as he kept making mistakes or drawing attention.

Slowly, he would have to adjust to the Indos-98 environment.

This adaptation was difficult.

“At this point, I can no longer hide it.”

Zhang Tan felt he’d had enough. Staying aggrieved in Shuangdun Middle School was a mistake, a lack of resolve. No matter how much he comforted himself, or sought a sense of presence among the students, he was still bound by his student identity, unable to fully express himself.

He had to listen attentively in class, study diligently during evening self-study, and even do morning exercises.

It was hard to imagine that someone used to the irregular nightlife of modern times could suddenly return to such a rigid environment and still live contentedly.

If not for concealing the secret of his rebirth, if not for being unable to face the new world immediately, if not for longing to relive the beautiful moments of his student days, if not for wanting to put his parents at ease… “If” was the word that came up too often; this was simply a sign of lack of resolve.

He should have dropped out at the first opportunity, gone to work or started his own business—anything would have been better than remaining a student.

Now, Zhang Tan truly regretted his decision.

“Since you, teacher, have noticed, I no longer need to hide my brilliance. Yes, ‘The Four Great Detectives Shake the Northeast’ was written by me.”

Pointing to the magazine “Legends of Past and Present: Story Edition,” Zhang Tan decided to open up to Yu Na: “Teacher, do you know, before I came to Shuangdun Middle School, I hesitated for a long time. I have self-awareness; I’m not cut out for studying, not because I doubt my intelligence, but because I have no interest.”

“And to bury myself in books, struggle through three years like others, I simply can’t do it. I even considered going out to work; I believe, with my abilities, I could carve out a place for myself. Even asking for some money from home to open a barbecue stall, or a cybercafé, would be a good choice. Right now, China’s economy is about to take off, and after joining the WTO, there will be more opportunities.”

“It was a tough decision. I know I can make a lot of money, and I have the foresight and confidence to do so. But I chose not to take that path; there are all kinds of ways to make money, and I don’t need to choose one so burdened by mundane affairs. I decided to give myself a buffer period; coming to Shuangdun Middle School was for thinking about what I really want to do.”

Yu Na listened intently, surprised. She had never known that this fifteen-year-old boy harbored such strange ideas—or rather, such forward-thinking ideas.

He spoke of the WTO, of economic boom; Yu Na herself wasn’t clear on these matters.

She felt Zhang Tan was bluffing, yet his tone was steady, with a sense of certainty.

After a pause, Zhang Tan continued: “I’ve always had the dream of being a writer, so during this time, I tried writing novels. Luckily, I have the talent. About two weeks ago, I submitted a manuscript to ‘Legends of Past and Present,’ and thanks to the editorial department’s trust, it was published—right here in this issue, ‘The Four Great Detectives Shake the Northeast.’”

“Not just this issue, but also several follow-up serializations, tens of thousands of words, which will appear in the next issue’s ‘Legends of Past and Present: Martial Arts Edition’ trial issue. The whole novel has two parts, seventy to eighty thousand words altogether. The magazine pays me two hundred yuan per thousand words, and if the trial issue is well received, the rate will increase.”

“Oh!”

Yu Na couldn’t help exclaiming in surprise. She mentally calculated: two hundred yuan per thousand words—writing a novel would earn over ten thousand yuan, much more than her salary as a teacher. “The manuscript fee is that high?”

Zhang Tan nodded: “Yes, the fee is decent. I’ve already received seven or eight thousand yuan from the publisher. Writing sixty thousand words a month is more than enough, so for me, struggling through three years of high school and then getting into a mediocre university really isn’t meaningful. What a university graduate could earn, I am already making now—so why bother with university?”

Although Zhang Tan made some valid points, Yu Na, as a university graduate herself, felt compelled to counter: “It’s not quite so simple, Zhang Tan. University students are usually between seventeen and twenty-one, and this period is crucial for forming one’s outlook on life, values, and worldview. Entering society too early, without college, isn’t good for you.”

Zhang Tan understood this reasoning.

High schoolers are still young; entering society early exposes them to its darker sides, bad habits, and, due to lack of higher education, limited horizons. Not all, but at least a significant portion fall into this category.

Studying for several years at university or college may not impart much knowledge, but it serves as a bridge between student life and society, guiding and shaping students’ worldviews. Only after graduation do students truly have the ability to adapt to society.

However, Zhang Tan had already attended college in his previous life; his worldview was long established.

Now, university wasn’t important to him.

Perhaps it was merely an obsession—the urge to attend university. Deep down, he still felt a bit inferior about his college-level status.

“Teacher, how should I put it,” Zhang Tan organized his thoughts. “While I don’t value university highly, I’m not against it either. One’s youth is rare, and university is a precious experience. If I can attend, of course I want to. But I doubt I can get in through normal channels—even third-rate universities would be tough. I might take the arts student route.”

“Oh, I know you signed up for music classes, studying under Teacher Zhu Yunfei, right?” Zhu Yunfei had mentioned Zhang Tan’s music studies to Yu Na.

As a music teacher, Zhu Yunfei had the authority to teach music students, even during evening self-study sessions.

“Yes, I’m very interested in music and, to be bold, I think I’m quite talented in the arts. Not only writing novels, but also composing songs, singing, even writing scripts and producing TV dramas or films—I’m interested in all these. I’ve thought it over, and perhaps this is my shortcut to university, since arts students don’t need to excel in the academic subjects.”

Yu Na wanted to say something several times, but couldn’t manage to interrupt; unknowingly, Zhang Tan had taken control of the conversation.

In the end, Yu Na could only go along: “Arts students still need to study the academic subjects, though.”

“Relatively speaking, it’s not so demanding. I hope to leave more time for artistic pursuits—that’s my guarantee for university admission. Teacher, wouldn’t you agree?” Zhang Tan opened his eyes wide, gazing earnestly at Yu Na.

On the one hand, it showed sincerity; on the other, it exerted pressure.

Look at my innocent and honest gaze—could you really refuse me? Hurry and relieve my burden!