Chapter 056: Telephone Interview

After returning home, Zhang Tan handed over another two thousand yuan to his family. At the same time, he prepared to set aside a thousand yuan for his elder sister, Zhang Yan, hoping she would stop working part-time to support herself and instead focus wholeheartedly on her medical studies, striving to fulfill her dream of becoming an excellent doctor in the future.

In his previous life, after graduating from An Medical University, Zhang Yan had worked diligently for more than ten years and eventually became the director of the outpatient department at the Fourth Affiliated Hospital. She had done quite well for herself; both her career and family were successful. When the policy allowed for a second child, she even had a niece, rounding out her family with both a son and a daughter. Zhang Yan was never one to pursue grand ambitions—she had always been content with her life.

Thus, in this life, Zhang Tan had no intention of drastically altering his sister’s fate.

Some people chase the pinnacle of life; others seek peace and contentment. Some pursue fame and fortune, while others are content with the ordinary. These are all valid attitudes toward life, neither superior nor inferior, and certainly without right or wrong.

In truth, Zhang Tan was a rather ordinary man. His desire for power, wealth, or beauty was not as intense as one might imagine.

Of course, he did not mind taking advantage of his second chance to reach the peak of life, basking in both fame and love. But he also did not feel compelled to force anything. If he were to exhaust himself endlessly for worldly success and wealth, how would that differ from the muddled existence of his previous life?

To live is not only to struggle, but also to enjoy.

To drift freely on the river of desire, to look up and down at will—that is the true delight of life.

Yet, sometimes, reincarnation does not mean freedom from constraints.

“Yangyang, your dad went to the grain bureau to process his layoff certificate. This morning, help your mom watch the internet café. I need to go get my hair done with your third aunt.” Business at the café was booming, and the long-standing worries on Tan Mingxia’s face had long since eased. With such outstanding son and daughter, there was little left to fret over. Now, she even felt young again.

Zhang Tan wanted to sleep a little longer. “The air in the internet café is too stuffy.”

“Get up, now!”

“Mom, why don’t we just hire someone? Six hundred yuan a month, that way you and Dad can both take a break.”

“You wastrel! You’re not even crawling and want to run? The internet café hasn’t even paid for itself yet. We borrowed money for the new computers—now is not the time to enjoy life. Yangyang, let me tell you, even though you’re making money writing novels now, you still have a lot ahead—marriage, a home, a car—everything costs money...”

“Okay, okay! I surrender! I’m getting up right now!” Zhang Tan leaped up from bed in one swift motion.

Sometimes, it’s truly best for women in their menopausal years to speak as little as possible.

He was just barely fifteen, yet his mother was already worried about his future marriage—how terrifying. In his previous life, he was still single at thirty and had endured endless nagging from his parents. Their words were like the tightening curse recited by Monk Tang for Sun Wukong—just hearing them made his head ache.

Even after being reborn, he could not escape the curse.

So he obediently got up, bit into a sesame flatbread, hastily drank his porridge, and hurried to the internet café to take over the shift.

Last night, it was his second sister-in-law’s shift.

At this moment, his second sister-in-law was yawning, her dark circles as prominent as a panda’s. “Yangyang, you’re here to relieve me? Hurry and check the accounts—I can’t hold out any longer.”

While going over the accounts, Zhang Tan said helplessly, “Second sister-in-law, you’ve seen how much the internet café is making—why are you still unwilling to give up that lousy job at the canning factory?”

Now that the internet café was up and running, layoffs were no longer a problem for the Zhang family. Zhang Quanshun had already completed his layoff paperwork and was ready to devote himself wholly to the café. But his fourth aunt and second sister-in-law still clung to their positions at the canning factory, unable to let go. Even though the café’s daily earnings could cover more than half a year’s salary, they still refused to give up, insisting on going to work.

The iron rice bowl of a state worker seemed more enticing than anything.

Unfortunately, that iron rice bowl had already been smashed to pieces—there would be no more state workers in the future.

Second sister-in-law gave Zhang Tan a withering look. “You’ve never had to manage a household—of course you don’t know how hard it is to make ends meet.”

The man from the future was scorned.

Zhang Tan could only shrug, put the sorted change into the drawer, and finished the shift handover with his second sister-in-law. In 2001, internet cafés were still basic—no ID scanning, no membership cards, just paper slips cut into machine numbers. Because it was Saturday, the café was packed with people early in the morning.

Zhang Tan had barely taken over when someone logged off, and a group immediately swarmed in to grab seats.

People also came to buy snacks and drinks, which were sold from a small shop behind the front desk—it was up to Zhang Tan to handle sales. Luckily, there weren’t too many types of goods, so he could remember the prices.

Busy as he was, this was not his idea of a weekend.

As for his much-hoped-for parents, for some reason, neither showed up. He could only tirelessly log people on and off, collect money, make change, and sell goods.

…

After who knows how long, his phone rang.

It was Wang Conglun. Zhang Tan answered with one hand while opening computer sessions for customers with the other. Wang Conglun wanted to interview him. After a brief moment of surprise, Zhang Tan agreed without hesitation.

Who wouldn’t want a chance at fame?

After agreeing, they settled on the time. The interview would not be in person, but online. With QQ so popular, it was easy to conduct an interview over the internet. After some discussion, the Wuxia Edition of Stories of the Present and Past sent their female editor, Biwan Zhen, to interview Zhang Tan immediately.

They added each other as contacts, and soon began chatting.

In fact, Zhang Tan seemed more like the interviewer. After realizing the editor was a woman, he started to tease her: “Hey, beautiful?”

“Hello, Zhang Tan. Yes, I am a woman,” she replied.

“Wow, beautiful, may I ask your name?”

“My name is Xu Dan.”

“Xu Dan, what a nice name. You must be as lovely as your name. If we were meeting in person, I’d buy you coffee.”

Biwan Zhen replied with a string of ellipses, obviously speechless at his teasing.

Then she asked, “Zhang Tan, are you really a first-year high school student?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Many readers are curious—how can someone so young write such captivating martial arts stories?”

“Geniuses are always like this—capable of what others can't do.” What else could Zhang Tan say? He could only boast and brush it off with the genius excuse.

“Um, I suppose that’s true. Zhang Tan, can you tell us about your personal background? For example, your upbringing, how you came to love writing martial arts novels? Readers are very interested.”

“That’s a long story—let me tell it properly,” Zhang Tan replied, all the while managing the café and composing his answer. After a while, he sent a long message:

“Fifteen years ago, on a certain day, the wind rose and the clouds swept the sky. Banished immortal descended to the mortal realm—in other words, I, Zhang Tan, was born. I grew up strong and healthy. I didn’t always eat well, but I was always warm enough.”

He quickly typed more: “At seven, I started school. At eight, I learned to read and write. At nine, I began writing. My teacher once assigned a composition on the tools in our schoolbags. Though I was clever, I still had no idea what to write. Luckily, my father had bought me a collection of sample essays, so I copied one titled ‘My Pencil Box.’”

“And then?” Biwan Zhen was clearly drawn in.

“And then… do you have a photo, beautiful? Send one for me to see…”

Bao Zhao—that line sounded so familiar.

――――――――――――――

Thanks to “Tianshi Fanyi” for two rewards of 1888 Qidian coins, to “Insignificant Scatterlight” for two rewards of 1888 Qidian coins, and to “My Family Has a Child,” “Ancient and Modern Yama,” and “I Know Nothing” for rewards of 588 Qidian coins each. Also, thanks to Greater China Federation, Little Meow, atujing, Speak Properly, Yang Chenkong, Broken Star Dreams, N Meifeng Lan N, Chubby Little Immortal, Famous Kiln, Law, 200 No 5, I’m Speechless, and Zhu Zeng for their rewards.