The Honest Man’s Counterattack 2003

In the Zhao family courtyard, beside the doghouse in the backyard—

Zhao Feng danced with his large yellow dog as a cheerful song blared from the cassette player:

"The sun rises, I climb the hillside,

At the top of the mountain, I feel like singing,

I sing for my little sister to hear,

Hearing my song, she laughs with delight.

In spring, amidst the blooming flowers,

I hold hands with my little sister..."

Zhao Changhe stepped out of the house, pulling out a pack of one-yuan Lingyang (Antelope) cigarettes. Fishing out a black-tipped cigarette, he squatted nearby to watch the commotion and casually lit up.

Lingyang cigarettes, nicknamed "Mountain Runners," were the cheapest brand at the time, costing only one yuan per pack. Other than loose tobacco, Lingyang was the most affordable cigarette you could find.

"Stop dancing, you're making me dizzy. What did you do to make Teacher Guo cry?"

Hearing his father's complaints, Zhao Feng put down the yellow dog and replied casually, "She loves eating farm eggs, so I said something, and it made her cry. That's why I asked you to send her a basket of eggs to cheer her up."

Zhao Changhe exhaled a puff of smoke, his expression unreadable, and said dryly, "Teacher Guo is too fragile. Watch what you say next time. I've already apologized to her. She said she'll help you during the final sprint for the college entrance exam."

Zhao Feng nodded. "With less than a month until the exams, I've decided to team up with Little Chubby from next door for mutual support. We might stay in the dorms for a while. Don't worry if I'm not home much."

Zhao Changhe reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled fifty-yuan bill, slapping it into Zhao Feng's hand. "Spend it wisely. Get something with meat for lunch to nourish yourself. I've heard that drinking Brain Platinum improves memory. I'll check the market tomorrow to see if I can get a discounted bottle for you."

Zhao Feng couldn't help but laugh. Back then, Brain Platinum was at the peak of its popularity.

Its relentless TV ads bombarded viewers with scenes of elderly couples dancing, accompanied by the slogan: "For holidays and celebrations, no gift beats Brain Platinum."

The commercials had captivated the entire nation, convincing older folks that Brain Platinum was both prestigious and healthy. It was touted as enhancing immunity and even boosting memory.

Zhao Feng, naturally skeptical, declined. "There's no need for that. Drinking milk before bed works just as well for improving memory."

Zhao Changhe looked doubtful. "Really?"

"The experts said so," Zhao Feng replied earnestly.

"Alright then, drink your milk. Just make sure to check the expiry date. Drinking expired milk can upset your stomach," Zhao Changhe cautioned.

Zhao Feng smirked. "Dad, I saw you chasing after Teacher Guo this afternoon. Where did you two go?"

Holding his cigarette, Zhao Changhe awkwardly avoided eye contact. "Teacher Guo is very hospitable. I just delivered the eggs to her house."

Zhao Feng's expression turned mischievous. Lowering his voice, he teased, "What time did you leave? Don't tell me you stayed until dark."

Cough! Cough! Cough!

Zhao Changhe choked on his cigarette, his face turning red as he coughed violently. He jumped up and smacked Zhao Feng on the back of the head. "Since when do you get to question when I come and go?"

Zhao Feng chuckled awkwardly. "Dad, you should smoke less. These 'Mountain Runners' are way too harsh. Maybe switch to a different brand."

Zhao Changhe stubbed out his cigarette and snapped, "You little brat, I like these just fine! The harsher, the better. Stop fooling around with the dog and go get some rest." With that, he turned and walked back into the house.

Watching his father leave, Zhao Feng sighed deeply, a sense of melancholy washing over him. He knew his father well—it wasn't that he didn't want to switch brands; it was just that Lingyang cigarettes were cheap.

To save money for Zhao Feng's college tuition, his father smoked one-yuan cigarettes, and his mother hadn't bought herself new clothes in three years.

His parents worked hard and lived frugally, their biggest dream being for Zhao Feng to get into a prestigious university.

Whether for his parents' sake or his own, Zhao Feng resolved to give his best effort for the college entrance exams.

The next morning—

As the first rays of sunlight lit up the earth, students trickled into the school campus. Zhao Feng, carrying a small shoulder bag, strolled casually into the classroom and sat at his desk.

Jin Fuguai leaned over, whispering into his ear, "Last night after evening self-study, Huang Dabiao and his gang were waiting for you at the school gate. It's lucky we skipped class, or we'd have been in trouble."

Zhao Feng shrugged nonchalantly. "Got it. Huang Dabiao won't last long. I'm planning to move into the dorms to focus on preparing for the exams. Want to join me?"

Jin Fuguai hesitated for a moment before nodding. "If Brother Feng asks, Fatty here will risk it all to keep you company."

Zhao Feng smiled. "Call your family to let them know, and let my mom know too."

Jin Fuguai pulled out his cordless "Xiaolingtong" phone and dialed his home landline, chatting away animatedly.

Zhao Feng scratched his head, realizing he didn't even own a phone—not even a Xiaolingtong. It was inconvenient, especially in emergencies. His entire savings amounted to less than 2,000 yuan, and his usual source of income from slot machines had dried up.

Back then, cell phones were a luxury. Even a basic model with a blue screen cost over 1,000 yuan. Buying one would leave him broke.

"I told my mom, and she'll let your aunt know," Jin Fuguai said.

"Less than a month until graduation. Let's make the most of our final days in high school," Zhao Feng said, patting Jin Fuguai on the shoulder. He then pulled out his science textbooks and practice papers and began reviewing.

Science subjects were complex and challenging. Rote memorization wasn't enough—understanding was key.

Having not touched these subjects in over a decade, Zhao Feng found them daunting. Picking them back up felt like an enormous task.

The classroom was silent except for the sound of pens scratching against paper.

Students diligently worked on their exercises, their desks piled high with books. Some reviewed their notes, while others tackled practice questions, fully immersed in preparing for the college entrance exams.

Zhao Feng wrote furiously, working through his science practice problems. But his accuracy rate was abysmal—only about half of his answers were correct. At this rate, his science scores would drag down his overall performance in the exams.

Frowning, Zhao Feng glanced around the classroom. His gaze landed briefly on Bai Jiaxin, the class beauty. Asking her for help was out of the question—her numerous admirers would form a mob to crush him.

His eyes then fell on "Red-Crowned Crane," a star student sitting in the fourth row from the back. She was laser-focused, her pen gliding across her exam paper without pause. She worked with the efficiency and confidence of someone who could conquer any test. A top-ranked academic beauty, she lived up to her reputation.

Her deskmate was a boy with a buzz cut, a sturdy build, and strong arms. He twirled his pen absentmindedly, his bored demeanor practically begging for a fight.

"Who is this guy? I don't remember him at all," Zhao Feng thought, scratching his head. His memories of high school were blurry, and apart from a few standout classmates, he couldn't recall many names. This boy was a nobody, clearly not someone impressive.

Riiiing!

The bell signaled the end of class.

Hou San strolled into the room, his bag slung lazily over his shoulder. Slinking to the back row, he glared at the back of Zhao Feng's head, preparing to strike.

Zhao Feng turned around just in time, flipping a dented metal pencil case in his hand. He gave it a casual spin and said coldly, "Big Monkey, you broke my pencil case. How are you planning to compensate me?"

Furious, Hou San snarled, "Compensate you? In your dreams!"

BAM!

The pencil case slammed into his head again. Hou San collapsed, clutching his face and unable to get up.

"This guy never learns. He tried to sneak attack me again," Zhao Feng muttered.

Digging through Hou San's belongings, Zhao Feng found a pack of Hongtashan cigarettes. He smirked. "You owe me a pencil case. These will cover the interest."

For the third day in a row, Hou San ended up with a busted head. Holding his head, he cried loudly, his tears mixed with frustration.

He had always been the one bullying others, but now Zhao Feng had awakened, turning the tables and beating him every day. It was too much to bear.

[--------------------------------------------]

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