Chapter 058: The Feeling of Climbing Over the Wall

What you can't have is always the best; as long as Biwan Zhen doesn't reveal her photo, Zhang Tan can preserve his lovely fantasies about the beautiful editor. The moment she does, everything changes, and there's no turning back. As for the female editor, Zhang Tan holds little hope. Indeed, there are many beauties in the world, but far more ordinary folk. Naturally, Zhang Tan isn't naive enough to believe that the person behind the screen could truly be a stunning woman.

He simply wants to keep that slender thread of possibility alive.

The interview was uneventful, hardly different from chatting online.

So, when it ended, Zhang Tan's life remained as placid as ever. Near noon, at last, his mother, Tan Mingxia, came to relieve him. His father, Zhang Quanshun, also arrived—he was there to run the fried rice stall. It was nothing unusual; at home, it was mostly Zhang Quanshun who cooked.

His skill in the kitchen was far superior to Tan Mingxia's; at holidays, it was always he who wielded the spatula.

The fried rice stall stood next door to the internet café. One half was for storing goods—drinks, bottled water, instant noodles, bread, spicy snacks—the other held the stove and pots. The division of labor mirrored that of the café, except Zhang Quanshun had another duty: he was responsible for cooking extra rice at night, to be used for fried rice the following day.

After all, he owned half the business; he had to shoulder more of the workload. Fortunately, Tan Mingxia was a farmer by trade, and when the fields lay fallow, she had little else to do. The couple managed the stall together with ease.

Thus, Zhang Tan spent an ordinary weekend, so mundane it bordered on dull.

Taking a detour through Hefei City, he brought a thousand yuan to Zhang Yan, then returned to Shuangdun Middle School. He’d earned quite a bit, but in the end, only about a thousand yuan remained in his pocket.

A little less than he’d hoped.

Still, it was enough for a carefree life in the neighborhood of Shuangdun Middle School.

In the mornings, he had yogurt, meat buns, and tea eggs; for lunch and dinner, he ate at the Rural Garden Restaurant, enjoying a mix of meat and vegetables. After evening study, he’d make a bowl of instant noodles, add a few sticks of sausage, and before bed, he’d brew a cup of Nestlé milk.

“By the way, I ought to remind my classmates: Sanlu milk powder is off limits.”

That brand, in the years to come, would be infamous, a synonym for toxic milk powder.

“But, it seems the toxic milk powder scandal wasn’t limited to Sanlu. Yili, Mengniu, Guangming, Shengyuan, Yashili—these famous domestic brands were also found to contain melamine. The list goes on; practically all domestic milk powder brands were implicated. None can be trusted!”

“Of course, there’s no need to panic. I’ve never heard of anyone around me getting seriously ill from milk powder. At least, for adults, drinking milk powder doesn’t seem to pose much danger.”

Stirring the milky liquid in his cup, Zhang Tan mused idly, “Food safety is a big issue, but I have no say in it. I’ll just do my best to keep those around me from buying domestic milk powder. Who could have foreseen that the Chinese dairy industry would collapse so badly in the future, that no one would dare drink domestic brands anymore?”

“And yet, are foreign brands truly flawless? I don’t believe so. But I have to drink it. Now’s the time to grow; if I want a strong body later, I need proper nutrition. Maybe I really will break through the one-seventy-five mark and grow taller and stronger.”

If it weren’t for the sake of nutrition, Zhang Tan wouldn’t touch a drop of milk, domestic or foreign.

But when it comes to health, there’s no room for carelessness.

“Grow, grow, grow! I want to be tall, I want a big bird!”

...

Time passed in a blink; suddenly, it was November.

It was mid-autumn on the lunar calendar, and the weather was cooling. Zhang Tan had switched to long sleeves and a jacket. He’d spent a few hundred yuan for a new outfit; his old children’s clothes were too embarrassing to wear.

No matter what, his fashionable look and taste made him the most stylish student at Shuangdun Middle School.

But even the most stylish boy has his moments of misery. The school’s sports meet included a broadcast calisthenics competition. To prepare, Class 5 of the first year bought matching sportswear—loose, black-and-white tracksuits, utterly devoid of style. The quality was poor, too, being thirty-yuan bargain buys from the City God Temple market.

He watched as Cao Yuchuan donned the new uniform the very first day.

He dusted imaginary specks from his sleeves, adjusted his collar, unzipped, then zipped up again.

The urge to show off was unmistakable.

Zhang Tan nearly laughed aloud. Did he not realize that with those oversized uniforms and his chubby cheeks, he looked ugly down to his soul? Especially the black-and-white color scheme—it made the clothes seem even more baggy and clumsy, nothing handsome or cute about them.

Let’s not forget—

Black-and-white animals aren’t just pandas, but dairy cows, brother!

“The second set of national broadcast calisthenics for middle school students, ‘The Era Calls.’”

Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun—stirring music echoed across the school.

After the second period, it was time for the regular exercises. All students gathered on the field, lined up by class, ready to follow along. The principal and homeroom teachers patrolled the grounds, and the student council checked attendance.

“Ready, begin—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

The rhythm from the loudspeakers was lively, but the students stood still as statues; the first eight beats required no movement.

Zhang Tan knew this second set of calisthenics by heart.

Although doing exercises with middle schoolers felt a bit silly, he rather enjoyed it. In truth, it was fun.

Jumping around keeps you young.

“Two, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

Move, move, move!

“Three, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

Keep moving, move!

“Four, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

Here, you had to jog on the spot—more excitement still.

“Stretching exercise, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight...”

Zhang Tan performed the exercises with the crowd, turning to glance around him. The field was packed with students, their synchronized movements strikingly grand. This was uniquely Chinese; only here would students participate daily in such large-scale group activities.

It fostered a sense of collective honor and mission.

So Zhang Tan loved the feeling of doing exercises.

Especially the second section—limb movements, punching upward toward the sky, so much fun! Shoulder exercises were fun, too, and there was even a swimming pose. Oh, and the leg kicks—the horse stance punches combined with seventy-two variations of Tan’s kicks. The full-body and running-jumping exercises weren’t bad either; with all the leaping, the formations quickly devolved into chaos.

And with so many people jumping together, it was truly impressive.

“Finishing exercise, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight... twelve, three, four, five, six, seven, stop.”

With that, the first round of morning calisthenics ended.

But the loudspeaker went on, launching into the second round: “The second set of national broadcast calisthenics for middle school students, ‘The Era Calls.’”

Two rounds of exercises—that was the tradition at Shuangdun Middle School. The break after the second period lasted a full twenty minutes, enough for two rounds and still left time for the bathroom.

...

After the exercises, the students dispersed in waves, like the ebbing tide.

Since the next class was PE, Class 5 stayed on the field. Some played soccer, some basketball, others batted volleyballs at random.

Zhang Tan was about to join the soccer game when Wang Long and a few others tugged at him, “Detective, come on, let’s go out for a smoke.” As he spoke, he pointed at the wall outside the field.

Zhang Tan was about to refuse when he remembered: outside the wall was a cemetery.

He’d never played in that graveyard since coming back to life; nor had he ever tried climbing the wall.

“Let’s go, I’ll see what it’s like to climb the wall!”