Chapter 80: The Approaching End of the Month

Once the matter was left for the police to handle, Jiang Zheng and the others only needed to give their statements before they could go home.

On the way back, Yuan Yuhua remarked, “How much do you think they’ll make her pay in compensation?”

Jiang Zheng shook his head. “I’m not sure, but it definitely won’t be a small amount.”

“I mean, why would anyone go out of their way to destroy public property? Honestly though, that floor mat looked so ordinary—if you hadn’t mentioned it was expensive, I wouldn’t have realized at all,” Yuan Yuhua said.

“Actually, a lot of public things are quite costly to make, but because we’re not paying attention and see them all the time, we just assume they aren’t worth much,” Jiang Zheng replied.

“Well, after this lesson, I think we’d better not damage public property in the future. We just couldn’t afford it,” Yuan Yuhua said.

Jiang Zheng smiled, agreeing with him.

“I think that woman must be unhappy at home, or maybe she’s been through something traumatic,” Yuan Yuhua said, rubbing his chin.

“Oh, and how would you know that?” Jiang Zheng replied.

“Don’t be so skeptical! Just think about it—we told her we’d only stay ten minutes. If she really insisted, we could have left right away. But she seemed so agitated, almost as if something had really set her off, and then started tearing up the mat like a madwoman. I don’t think a normal person would act like that,” Yuan Yuhua said.

“Whatever her reasons are, no matter what she’s gone through or how wronged she feels, it doesn’t justify vandalizing public property,” Jiang Zheng responded.

“That’s true,” Yuan Yuhua conceded. “By the way, how did you get so fit? Was it really just from working out?”

“More or less,” Jiang Zheng replied vaguely.

He hadn’t expected Yuan Yuhua to still remember the casual lie he’d told before.

“If I keep at it, could I get like that, too?” Yuan Yuhua asked.

“You could, but the key is persistence. As long as you stick with it, your fitness will definitely improve,” Jiang Zheng said.

Daily exercise certainly leads to better health, though the changes might be subtle. Jiang Zheng had lied—his situation wasn’t something he could explain to others. Still, there’d be no harm if Yuan Yuhua developed the habit of regular exercise.

“All right, I’ll give it a try when I get home,” Yuan Yuhua said.

He was still a little frustrated. Back when they played basketball, he always had the upper hand over Jiang Zheng in physical contests. Now, the tables had turned, and he was completely outmatched.

They walked on for a bit before Yuan Yuhua spoke up again. “Want to come over to my place? I just got the latest PS5.”

“I’ll pass this time,” Jiang Zheng declined.

“That doesn’t sound like you. Are you seeing someone?” Yuan Yuhua teased.

“No, don’t get any ideas. I just have something to take care of at home,” Jiang Zheng replied.

“Fine, I won’t force it. Next time then,” Yuan Yuhua said.

“All right,” Jiang Zheng agreed.

When he got home, his mother asked, “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet. Is there anything left at home?” Jiang Zheng asked.

“What would you like? I can make you something,” his mother offered.

“No need to go to any trouble. Do we still have any noodles? I can just make some myself,” Jiang Zheng replied.

“There are some noodles on top of the fridge. And there are also dumplings—would you like some?” his mother asked.

Jiang Zheng shook his head. “Just the noodles will do.”

“Want me to cook them for you?”

“No, I can do it myself,” Jiang Zheng said.

He liked tomato and egg noodles. His method was to dice the tomatoes, fry the eggs in oil until both sides were slightly crisp, then add the tomatoes and stir-fry until their juices were released. After that, he’d add water and bring it to a boil, then cook the noodles. Once they were done, he’d add a little salt to taste, and the dish would be ready.

This tomato and egg noodle dish was full of flavor. The trick was to eat the noodles together with the egg. The slightly charred aroma of the egg, the tangy taste of the tomato, and the smooth, springy texture of the noodles made every bite satisfyingly delicious.

After finishing his bowl of noodles, Jiang Zheng returned to his room and turned on his computer to write.

He had already lost enough time today. If he didn’t get more words down, he’d fall behind on his updates.

Time slipped by, and several days passed in the blink of an eye.

During these days, Jiang Zheng did nothing but read and write. He no longer wrote at the exhausting pace he had before, but aside from his daily updates, he managed to build up a stockpile of over ten thousand words.

Other than these two things, Jiang Zheng didn’t do much else. Yuan Yuhua had invited him out several times, but Jiang Zheng turned him down each time. He didn’t want to go out—not only was the weather unbearably hot, but he hadn’t completed his system task and had no time for leisure.

That afternoon, as Jiang Zheng was writing, his fingers flew across the keyboard, almost leaving afterimages in their wake.

After a long while, his fingers began to ache, and he had no choice but to stop.

The high-intensity writing was taking a serious toll on his hands—Jiang Zheng even worried he was developing tendonitis.

For web novel writers, tendonitis was practically an occupational hazard—nine out of ten suffered from it. Usually, though, it took a year or two of writing to develop. Jiang Zheng had been at it for less than two months and was already showing symptoms, all because of his extreme output.

Ordinary writers would consider it impressive to produce 300,000 to 400,000 words in a month. Jiang Zheng, however, had written over a million words in less than a month. The strain on his hands was unimaginable.

Of course, this massive output had clear benefits. His book’s monthly ticket count had soared, placing him in the top ten, currently at fourth place. He wasn’t far from third.

The monthly ticket leaderboard was packed with top writers; every month, the competition was fierce. For Jiang Zheng, a newcomer, to reach fourth place was no small feat. For a new book by a new author, such rankings were inseparable from the sheer volume of his updates.

Now, with the end of the month approaching, the scramble for monthly tickets was heating up. Jiang Zheng continued to ask his readers for votes each day, but he had no particular ambition for the rankings.

At that moment, his manager sent him a message.

“Are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“Are you planning to go for the top of the monthly ticket rankings this month?” the manager asked.

“I have no such plans,” Jiang Zheng replied.

“You’re already in fourth place—why not give it a try? I think you’ve got a good chance, especially with the double monthly tickets at the end of the month,” the manager said.

“All the top writers are ahead of me. As a newbie, I’d better not compete,” Jiang Zheng replied.

“But you really could go for it. Wouldn’t it be a shame if you never even tried for first place?” the manager urged.

Jiang Zheng stared at the message, falling into deep thought.

He was already in fourth place. To say he didn’t want first would be a lie.

Who wouldn’t want the honor of being number one?