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Chapter 7: Finding the Target
"What works mention Lenin or evaluate the October Revolution?"
Gu Lu racked his brain. The most translated work in multiple languages surely had to be something renowned even in his past life on Earth—but nothing matched.
Why was Gu Lu so fixated on figuring it out? Only by identifying the work could he determine which direction to focus his efforts and gain access to its knowledge sooner.
Unfortunately, by the time school ended, Gu Lu still hadn’t found a suitable target.
"Class dismissed. Next lesson, we’ll cover the Treaty of Versailles and the Nine-Power Treaty. Please preview ahead."
Before the history teacher had even left the classroom, a chorus of "Oooohs" erupted—like primal howls from creatures not yet fully evolved into humans.
Fan Xiaotian finished packing his things and walked to the front of the room, only to find his buddy’s seat already empty.
Caught off guard, Fan Xiaotian’s expression betrayed his surprise as he grabbed his canvas bag and dashed toward the school gate.
By now, the playground was teeming with "apes"—some balancing backpacks on their heads, others hopping around as if they’d forgotten how to walk. Fan Xiaotian blended seamlessly into the crowd.
"Hey, catch!" Zhang Yudong tossed something from five meters away—not aiming directly at anyone, nor with much precision. Clearly, whether it was caught didn’t matter to him.
"Got it," Gu Lu said. His hands were sore from days of copying assignments, but relief was near. Better days were coming.
Zhang Yudong handed over the weekend homework "contract" to Gu Lu before heading off with his friends.
"I turned in blank papers, and they still expect us to do homework. These teachers are ridiculous."
"Especially Old Hag and Old Witch—they act like they’re perpetually menopausal."
Even before leaving the school grounds, the students began gossiping about their teachers, quickly shifting topics to games like Dungeon Fighter Online and Dream Westward Journey.
Gu Lu waited a while longer at the school gate before Fan Xiaotian finally arrived.
"You ran too fast," Fan Xiaotian said.
"Not really. I was the first out of the classroom, but not the first out of the gate." Gu Lu acknowledged that No. 37 Middle School had its share of speedsters.
With that, Gu Lu followed Fan Xiaotian, unsure of their destination. The latter feigned mystery, refusing to divulge details.
"Have you bought any recent issues of Story Digest? Let me borrow them when you're done."
"Haven't bought new ones."
"I want to get an issue of Ancient and Modern Legends, but it's pricey."
"Ancient and Modern Legends is thicker, though. Thicker means pricier—it’s normal."
"Oh, well, I’ll definitely earn money someday. When my dad slapped me, he complained my face was so thick it hurt his hand."
"Why did your dad hit you?"
...
Chatting along the way, they eventually arrived at a barbershop.
Don’t misunderstand—it was a legitimate establishment. What Fan Xiaotian referred to as "broadening horizons" simply meant bringing Gu Lu for a perm.
"?" Whenever a small question mark appeared in Gu Lu’s eyes, it wasn’t him who had the problem—it was the other person.
Composing himself, Gu Lu said, "If we do this, we’re doomed on Monday."
"Don’t worry—it’s just a temporary perm." Fan Xiaotian’s gaze sparkled with the energy of a mischievous husky.
A temporary perm? While Gu Lu puzzled over this, the barber explained: "Temporary" involved using a flat iron without applying chemicals, so the effect would last only one afternoon.
The cost? A whopping six yuan—a significant investment for someone like Fan Xiaotian.
Gu Lu recalled that by 2012, the non-mainstream subculture was waning, but middle and high school students still considered long hair fashionable.
Straightened spikes resembling porcupine quills were especially trendy.
Though tempted to decline—both because the style clashed with his aesthetic preferences and because spending six yuan for such fleeting results felt wasteful—Gu Lu hesitated.
"We’re doing this together," Fan Xiaotian insisted.
Something seemed off—Gu Lu wasn’t a psychologist, nor particularly high in emotional intelligence, so he couldn’t pinpoint what was going on.
Based on memories of Fan Xiaotian’s personality, however, the boy usually spent his allowance on renting books or buying Story Digest. He never splurged on appearances.
Something unusual was afoot, but Gu Lu relented.
Seeing this, Fan Xiaotian took charge, instructing the barber to start with his friend.
Fan Xiaotian indeed had a reason—he’d attempted to steal a phone at home and got caught. As punishment, his father made him kneel for hours.
Feeling guilty for not helping his friend and fearing rejection, Fan Xiaotian decided to splurge, treating Gu Lu to a (temporary) perm.
After twenty minutes, both emerged sporting their new looks.
Gazing into the mirror, Gu Lu couldn’t help but chuckle. What spirited lads they were!
"Let’s go." After paying, Fan Xiaotian strutted out with unrecognizable confidence.
The hairstyle transformation inflated Fan Xiaotian’s self-esteem. His skyward spikes swayed in the breeze, resembling reeds floating on a pond.
Head bowed, Gu Lu lamented the toll on his dignity… then allowed himself to be dragged by Fan Xiaotian in endless loops around the bustling Ganghua Street, seemingly intent on broadcasting their fresh hairstyles to the entire neighborhood.
Had there been more students nearby, Fan Xiaotian might have paraded back to the school gates.
Sensing the generational gap, Gu Lu treated his companion to skewered rice cakes as a token of gratitude.
Among Chongqing’s street barbecue staples were three vegetable champions: rice cakes, sweet potato skins, and tofu sheets. Especially the tofu—grilled until bubbly, garnished with green onions, pickled radishes, and sour beans, rolled up together…
Enough. No need to dwell further; today’s treat alone was already extravagant for Gu Lu.
Having completed all his and his clients’ assignments on Friday, Gu Lu enjoyed lunch on Saturday and headed to Fat Boss’s gaming den in the afternoon.
Wow—what a crowd! Every machine was occupied, and two groups were queued up waiting.
"No one’s using the computer. Go straight in—I won’t bother greeting you," Fat Boss said, busy swapping discs.
Each PlayStation 3 console accommodated only two controllers, but that didn’t deter groups of three from playing Digimon Battle Spirit. Losers rotated out.
Gu Lu navigated directly to Fat Boss’s bedroom, opened the computer, and began researching special admissions policies.
Special admissions candidates fell under either arts or sports categories. Arts included music, dance, painting, calligraphy, and even theater—not writing plays, but acting.
Nothing related to writing qualified as a talent.
But where one door closes, another opens. Gu Lu discovered an alternative path.
In addition to excelling in the citywide mock exams prior to the high school entrance exam, another route to guaranteed admission existed: securing a provincial award warranted special consideration.
"Writing competitions carry less weight than math Olympiads and other STEM fields. For stability, national-level awards are preferable," Gu Lu reasoned, identifying three suitable nationwide writing contests through online searches.
The Bingxin Cup, the Ye Shengtao Cup, and the National High School Creative Writing Competition.
"Wait—the Creative Writing Competition doesn’t include a junior high division; it’s exclusively for high schoolers." That left the other two as Gu Lu’s targets, particularly the Ye Shengtao Cup, whose accolades could appear on academic records.
The Bingxin Cup’s registration deadline extended until April, and the preliminary round allowed freeform writing.
The only complication was the Ye Shengtao Cup…
Moreover, despite Gu Lu’s familiarity with impressive college entrance essays from Earth, cobbling together fragments offered no guarantee of winning.
It’d be best to trigger a few more books for material, Gu Lu thought.
With research complete, Gu Lu dove back into writing mode, spending 217 minutes completing drafts for every potential submission.
"Now, the only thing left is the news from Story Digest."
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