Chapter 2 1. The Summer Fifteen Years Ago
That day, he was playing mahjong.
Somehow, he won by self-draw after declaring a kong, but forgot that he was actually a corporate drone who had been pulling all-nighters for an entire week. Before the money even made it into his pocket, he got overexcited and dropped dead on the spot, stiff as a board.
When he woke again, it was summer.
The summer fifteen years ago.
He was only fifteen.
In the mirror, he still had two pimples on his face.
No matter—they didn't affect his handsome looks one bit.
He flashed himself a very confident smile in the mirror, a grin so bright it seemed from another lifetime.
Fifteen years was, indeed, a lifetime ago.
This dream felt real enough.
So why was there a tinge of sadness?
Thirty-year-old Zhang Luo hadn't seen his former self in a dream for a very long time.
Sunlight spilled in from the window, warm and toasty.
The kind of sunlight that only existed in summers of memory.
It seemed to be a Saturday or Sunday afternoon. Upon waking, the house was steeped in the quiet stillness of an empty home.
Mom was probably battling it out at the mahjong table again, while Dad had either gone fishing or was shooting the breeze with someone.
Still hovering between sleep and wakefulness, his eyelids were heavy. He couldn't help but sigh—fortunately he was young at this age, or else his eyelids would be drooping like a Pekingese's.
He rubbed his face. Tsk, tsk. So tender.
But staring in the mirror got boring after a while. He wasn't a girl, after all—it's not like he could gaze at his own face until the end of time.
In the summer fifteen years ago, there were no smartphones, and computers hadn't yet aggressively invaded every household.
It wasn't that his family couldn't afford one. At this point in time, in the minds of many parents, computers were a cancer—his parents were terrified he'd become an internet-addicted teenager, so they firmly resisted.
No internet access. Fortunately, though there was no computer, there was still cola in the fridge.
At this point, his mother hadn't yet heard that "cola kills sperm," and was willing to indulge her son's shallow happiness within limits.
Unlike fifteen years later, when cola became something "explicitly forbidden" by Ms. Liang Fengying.
Was it an illusion?
Why did it feel like cola from fifteen years ago tasted better?
Zhang Luo let out a burp.
In the dream, every detail of the house was crystal clear.
Those things that had long grown fuzzy and forgotten now appeared vividly before his eyes.
Even including the wall calendar hanging on the wall. The old-fashioned kind—the sort you could tell at a glance his mom had brought back from work, emblazoned with the words "Xuyang City Health Bureau."
Uh, there might be a misunderstanding here. To clarify: his mother was no civil servant at the Health Bureau.
She had merely contracted the cafeteria of said Health Bureau, a small self-employed vendor, that was all.
It was actually a good business. She followed the civil servants' schedule of five days on, two days off, with steady income rain or shine.
So on weekends, his mother could hold her ground at the mahjong table—
Either dominating all four directions.
Or going home empty-handed.
Clearly, she had dominated today.
When she returned, she was humming a little tune, joy written all over her face.
"Mom, how much did you win?" Zhang Luo asked, watching Ms. Liang Fengying change her shoes at the entrance.
Ms. Liang turned around, and her face, previously backlit, suddenly crashed clearly into Zhang Luo's line of sight.
Zhang Luo froze.
This was his mother from fifteen years ago.
So young, actually.
Her face was smooth, without wrinkles, lightly made up, absolutely delighted, possessing the vigor and spirit of youth.
"What do you want to eat tonight?" his mother asked cheerfully. "KFC or McDonald's?"
Zhang Luo: "...How about you boil me some dumplings instead?"
He hadn't gone to college in Xuyang. He went to Yuming.
After graduation, he stayed in Yuming.
If he wanted a meal of his mother's handmade dumplings, he basically had to wait for holidays when he went back, or when his mother came to Yuming—
Such occasions were pitifully few throughout the year.
Every time his mother came, she would wrap hundreds of dumplings for him, stuffing his fridge full to bursting.
Because he loved them.
He had loved eating them when he ate them often.
The less he could eat them, the more he craved them.
Ms. Liang Fengying had no idea what Zhang Luo was feeling at that moment. She rolled her eyes and said, "Why are you saving me money right now? The money won at the mahjong table can't be hoarded—it has to be spent, or else it'll be lost next time. Understand?"
Listening to his mother's animated excitement, Zhang Luo was endlessly amused.
Yes, this was the Liang Fengying in his memories. Not the one from fifteen years later, who—though still domineering and brooking no defiance—had begun to carefully observe his mood, check if he was tired or unhappy, and cautiously try to cheer him up.
"Mom, then take me out to eat," he said. "Whichever restaurant you think is good, take me there."
This dream was truly worth it.
He really hoped it would last a little longer, so he could have a proper meal with Ms. Liang Fengying from fifteen years ago, in this summer from fifteen years ago.
"By the way, where's Dad?" Zhang Luo asked.
"Your dad went fishing." Liang Fengying rolled her eyes. "Don't know what's so great about those lousy fish."
Zhang Luo thought, as expected. His father loved fishing too much, so much that their fridge was never short of fish, and fish was a permanent fixture on the dinner table. The resulting aftermath was that after he went off to college alone, he barely ate fish at all.
Because he was sick of it.
"Is he coming back for dinner with us tonight?"
"Since when does he come back for dinner when he goes out fishing?" Liang Fengying said irritably. "That man of mine, don't you know him? He might as well plant himself by the pond and become a tree."
"Ah, it's just his little hobby. At least it's better than you running off to catch cheaters every few days."
Zhang Luo blurted it out.
This was something thirty-year-old Zhang Luo would subconsciously say.
Sure enough, Liang Fengying stared at him in disbelief and roared, "Zhang Luo!"
Zhang Luo hadn't even processed it before that shout made his whole body jolt.
A long-lost physical memory.
Zhang Luo: "Mom, why did you suddenly yell at me? You nearly scared my soul out of my body!"
Come to think of it, why didn't that jolt wake him up?
Liang Fengying rushed right up to him. "Did you secretly find out something? What's this about me catching cheaters every few days? Which vixen has your dad taken a liking to?! Huh?!"
Zhang Luo was stunned. "Huh?"
Liang Fengying: "Where did a kid your age hear such things?! Huh?!"
Zhang Luo: "...Mom, I'm fifteen. Do I need to hear such things from other people?"
"You discovered it yourself?" A flash of murderous intent crossed Liang Fengying's eyes, her aura growing even more oppressive. "When? Where? Speak!"
"What when, what where, what are you even talking about? My dad has been an upright man his whole life. Don't slander him." Zhang Luo said, speechless. "His little hobby is just fishing. I'm talking about Uncle Wang upstairs."
"Wang Futian?" The killing intent on Liang Fengying's face instantly vanished, replaced by gossipy curiosity. "What about him?"
To clear his father's name, Zhang Luo had no choice but to say, "He's having an affair with Auntie He downstairs."
Liang Fengying's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Really? Who did you hear that from?"
Zhang Luo thought, a year from now, Uncle Wang's wife would charge into Auntie He's house wielding two meat cleavers, making it known to all the neighbors.
Of course he couldn't say that now. He could only say, "I accidentally discovered it once."
Liang Fengying immediately humphed.
"I said, the way she dresses every day—" Liang Fengying's eyes shifted, landing on her son. Some things that shouldn't be said slammed to an emergency halt. She coughed, shelving the instincts left over from her youth, deciding to maintain her image as a mother. She began to lecture earnestly:
"Look at you, such keen observation skills. If you put even a fraction of that into your studies, you'd be doing way better than you are now. Oy, can you just once get into the top 100 of your grade and let your mother hold her head high?"
Zhang Luo said, "Mom, with my grades, I'll be able to get into a university in Yuming, okay?"
"Luo, Mom hopes you'll get into Yuming University, not just a university in Yuming." Liang Fengying spoke with utmost sincerity, trying to persuade him. "Your grades are Mom's face, you know."
"Education experts all say not to pin parental honor and disgrace on their children."
"They can say what they want. What's it have to do with me? I didn't say that to you!" Liang Fengying sneered. "I've pinned the happiness of my entire later life on you. What's wrong with pinning my face on your college entrance exam?"
"That's a lot of pressure."
"If you had even an ounce of pressure, I wouldn't be able to say those words." Liang Fengying reached out and tapped Zhang Luo's forehead. "Hurry up and change. Let's go out to eat!"
"You got it!" Zhang Luo immediately turned around and went back to his room.
After the door closed, the smile on his face faltered.
He turned back somewhat blankly, staring at the door panel.
Through the door, he could still hear his mother's cheerful little tune.
What a pity. This was a dream.
\-
New book is here.
It follows the same geographical world view as *Choosing the Day to Rise to Fame*, but the entertainment industry background is completely new.
For example, there's Yuming, there's Zhenhua University, but there's no Lu Yanhe and company.
The old book *Choosing the Day to Rise to Fame* started with 375 initial subscribers and wrote its way to over ten thousand average subscribers. Those who haven't read it, go check it out by all means!