Chapter 71 - 55: I’ll Remember
Mid-May.
The day before Chen Zhuo left for the Provincial City to attend the physics team’s training camp.
Evening.
Chen Zhuo’s room was a bit of a mess.
His black backpack lay on the bed, its zipper wide open.
Stuffed inside were a few changes of clothes, some spare underwear, and a copy of *Physics Experiments* that was as thick as a brick.
A few pencils and two erasers were scattered beside the backpack.
Chen Zhuo was checking to see if he had forgotten anything.
The physics training camp wasn’t like regular classes; it required hands-on experiments.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
Heavy, urgent footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Then came a thunderous banging on his door.
"Xiaozhuo! Open up! It’s me!"
Zhang Qiang’s booming voice rang out from outside.
Chen Zhuo walked over and pulled the door open.
Zhang Qiang stood outside.
He was drenched in sweat, his short-sleeved school uniform shirt unbuttoned, revealing a sweat-soaked undershirt beneath.
He was clutching an absurdly large, bulging plastic woven bag to his chest.
It was one of those red-and-blue striped bags, the kind people use to carry quilts or haul goods from the train station.
It was almost half the size of Zhang Qiang himself.
"What are you doing?"
Chen Zhuo eyed the woven bag, then looked at his friend in confusion.
"Fleeing a disaster?"
"What disaster?!"
Zhang Qiang squeezed into the room.
He threw the huge woven bag on the floor with a THUD.
The bag made the muffled sound of metal and plastic clanking together.
Zhang Qiang squatted down and unzipped the bag.
A mixed aroma of various foods wafted out.
He started pulling things out.
"This."
Zhang Qiang took out two large packages wrapped in brown paper, stained with grease, and placed them on Chen Zhuo’s bed.
"My dad had someone bring this back from Inner Mongolia yesterday. Air-dried beef jerky. It’s all lean meat, really tough, but it’ll fill you up. You can chew on one stick for half a day."
"And this."
He pulled out seven or eight tin cans.
"Luncheon meat, braised pork... if you get hungry during training at night, just heat ’em up with some hot water and you can eat."
"And this! This is the most important!"
Zhang Qiang mysteriously pulled several exquisitely packaged boxes from the very bottom of the woven bag.
The boxes were covered in curvy foreign script, without a single Chinese character in sight.
He carefully placed the boxes next to Chen Zhuo’s backpack.
"Chocolate."
Zhang Qiang wiped the sweat from his face and looked at Chen Zhuo, as if expecting praise.
"It’s imported. From Russia or somewhere, I can’t read it. My dad said it was super expensive. He was planning to give it as a gift, but I swiped it all."
As he spoke, Zhang Qiang started shoving everything into Chen Zhuo’s already-small backpack.
"Are you crazy?"
Chen Zhuo watched as Zhang Qiang forcibly stuffed a box of chocolate into the bottom compartment of the backpack, nearly bursting the zipper.
"I’m going to a training camp at Shida Affiliated Middle School, not to a deserted island to survive."
Chen Zhuo reached for the beef jerky.
"Take it back. Shida Affiliated Middle School has a cafeteria."
"Cafeteria, my ass!"
Zhang Qiang slapped Chen Zhuo’s hand away and stubbornly shielded the backpack.
"My dad said the food at those fancy schools in the Provincial City is watery and bland. They’re super stingy."
Zhang Qiang looked up.
He looked at Chen Zhuo.
His eyes held a rare stubbornness and sincerity.
"Look at you."
Zhang Qiang pointed at Chen Zhuo’s wrist.
"You’re as skinny as a monkey."
"Where you’re going, you’ll be surrounded by big third-year middle schoolers."
"If those bastards try to push you around, shoving you on purpose when you’re getting food in the cafeteria, can you fight them? Can you even get any meat?"
The more Zhang Qiang spoke, the more worked up he got, his chubby face flushing red.
"Be frugal at home, but pack rich for the road. Get it?"
"You take this stuff. If you get hungry, eat it in your dorm. If you have to, share a little with them."
"Don’t go hungry just to save money or avoid trouble. If you starve yourself and stop growing, how are you gonna make it later in life?"
Without another word, he crammed two cans of luncheon meat into the side mesh pocket of the backpack, cinching the elastic band tight.
Chen Zhuo stood by the bed.
He watched the chubby boy awkwardly and stubbornly stuffing his backpack with things he probably wouldn’t even be able to eat during the training camp.
The beef jerky.
The canned food.
The chocolate.
With each item he crammed in, Zhang Qiang would pat the sides of the backpack, trying to make it more compact.
Chen Zhuo didn’t try to stop him anymore.
He lowered his gaze.
He looked at the veins bulging on the back of Zhang Qiang’s hands from the effort.
He knew.
For a twelve-year-old chubby boy, this was the highest form of protection he could imagine.
’Since I can’t be there to protect you from the older kids... I’ll just give you all the tastiest, most filling food I can find. To make sure you don’t go hungry or get pushed around for the next half-month.’
It was a crude, even comical, form of care.
But in Chen Zhuo’s heart, it carried more weight than any words ever could.
"That’s enough."
Chen Zhuo said softly.
"It won’t fit. The zipper’s going to break."
Zhang Qiang stopped what he was doing.
He tried to pull the backpack’s zipper.
The zipper strained with a ZZZT, barely managing to close at the very top.
The whole backpack was now puffed up like an overinflated balloon, its shape completely distorted.
Zhang Qiang patted the backpack with satisfaction.
"There, that’s better. It’s a little heavy to carry, but it gives me peace of mind."
He stood up, pulled over a chair, sat down, and let out a long sigh.
Chen Zhuo walked over.
He lifted the heavy backpack and placed it at the head of the bed.
Then, he walked to his desk.
He pulled open a drawer.
And took out the dark blue, grid-patterned journal.
He walked over to Zhang Qiang.
And handed him the journal.
Zhang Qiang froze for a moment.
"What’s this?"
He took it.
And opened it.
He saw the neat line of text on the first page: "City No.1 Middle School Entrance Exam Math Pitfall Guide (Zhang Qiang’s Special Edition)."
Zhang Qiang’s eyes widened slightly.
He kept flipping through the pages.
They were densely packed with notes on all the mistakes he usually made.
"The last two multiple-choice questions... just pick C..."
Zhang Qiang read aloud in a low voice.
When he got to the line, "Are you a pig-brain or what?"
The corner of Zhang Qiang’s mouth twitched.
He looked up at Chen Zhuo.
The expression on his chubby face was complicated.
For some reason, the rims of his eyes reddened slightly.
But he quickly lowered his head, pretending to look at the language arts essay guide in the back.
A twelve- or thirteen-year-old boy’s pride is everything; he’d rather die than cry in front of his bro.
"What is this garbage you wrote."
Zhang Qiang grumbled gruffly.
He rolled the journal into a tube, stuffed it very carefully into his pants pocket, and patted it to make sure it wouldn’t fall out.
Chen Zhuo watched him.
He pushed up his glasses.
His tone was as placid as ever.
"My bus is at eight tomorrow morning."
Chen Zhuo stuck his hands in his pockets.
"While I’m gone, study this notebook until you know it by heart. I’ve marked all the key problems for you."
"Do well on the exam."
"Don’t embarrass me."
Zhang Qiang sniffled.
"Tch, who’s gonna embarrass you?"
He stood up.
He casually wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Of course I’ll pass. Stop looking down on me."
He walked to the door.
His hand rested on the doorknob.
He paused.
He didn’t turn back.
He just said in a muffled voice,
"You be careful in the Provincial City, too."
"If anyone over there gives you trouble."
"You remember their names."
Zhang Qiang turned his head.
And looked at Chen Zhuo.
His usually cheerful, round face now held a rare look of seriousness and ferocity.
"Wait until I test into City No.1."
"Wait until I come find you."
"I’ll bring guys to the Provincial City to beat them up."
Chen Zhuo looked at him.
He looked at this chubby boy, half a head taller than him, who was vowing to protect him.
Chen Zhuo lowered his head slightly.
The straight line of his mouth finally broke.
It curved into an extremely faint, yet genuine, smile.
"Okay."
Chen Zhuo said.
"I’ll remember."
He took a step forward.
And added,
"Don’t go running around after your exam. I’ll be back in early July."
"When I get back."
"We’ll go to the arcade together."
"I’ll teach you that infinite combo for Yagami Iori."
Zhang Qiang paused, stunned.
Then he broke into a wide grin.
Revealing two slightly pointed canine teeth.
The gloomy feeling of their parting was instantly swept away.
"It’s a deal!"
Zhang Qiang raised a chubby fist and pumped it in the air.
"If you dare lie to me, I’ll sell all your study notes when you get back!"
With that, Zhang Qiang pulled open the door.
And ran downstairs, his heavy steps now light and quick.
His THUMP THUMP THUMP footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Chen Zhuo stood in the doorway.
Listening as the footsteps gradually faded.
Until they disappeared completely.
He turned around.
And looked at the backpack, stuffed until it was misshapen.
Outside the window, an early summer evening breeze blew in.
The wind no longer carried the chill of spring, but a hint of sweltering heat and the fresh scent of leaves.
Summer had truly arrived.