The car departed at three in the afternoon, covering two hundred kilometers before entering the city at dusk. After resting for a night, they set off again in the pre-dawn hours.
The continuous rain waxed and waned, and traffic jams plagued the highway. An accident was visible every few dozen kilometers. The journey was stop-and-go, and Wang Zhuo’s group didn't reach their destination until late into the night.
“This goddamn weather! Not a single plane took off today. The airport is packed shoulder-to-shoulder, and every hotel nearby is fully booked. They’re busing passengers out to hotels in the city center now.”
Hearing Fatty Long’s complaint over the phone, Wang Zhuo gave a wry smile. “We had it rough too. We were supposed to arrive by noon, and it’s already past eleven at night. If Chicken Ding and Chengzi hadn't seen us off, we’d probably still be halfway there.”
Hanging up, Wang Zhuo walked to the window, drew back the curtain, and looked out at the metropolis through the dense veil of rain.
“Is this the city ranked number one in overall national strength?”
From the eleventh-floor window of the hotel, his eyes took in the forest of skyscrapers, the flashing neon lights, and the ceaseless flow of traffic.
Most striking were three tall structures visible a few kilometers away. One was the renowned Oriental Pearl Tower, which Wang Zhuo recognized. Another was even taller than the Pearl Tower, its exterior resembling a bottle opener, which immediately brought to mind that infamous "big boxer shorts" structure in Beijing.
“This building must be some foreigner’s prank design,” Wang Zhuo mused, utterly speechless at the incompetence of some officials. Why must they hire foreign architects for such major buildings, only to be utterly bamboozled and then have to shamelessly deny it? Just thinking about the "big boxer shorts" near the Beijing TV Tower made him nauseous.
Due to the viewing angle from Wang Zhuo’s hotel, the Jin Mao Tower was perfectly obscured by the "bottle opener," leading Wang Zhuo to mistakenly identify the latter as the famous Jin Mao.
Beside the "Jin Mao," there was another building, only the lower floors illuminated, while the vast upper sections were pitch black, looking like a colossal, slumbering beast in the rainy night. This skyscraper was the tallest in Shanghai, and it appeared not yet to be fully operational.
...
Ding Baoji and Cheng Tiankun took the high-speed rail the next morning and returned home. In the face of the stable and efficient rail service, air travel seemed like a cruel joke; by the time they arrived home, Fatty Long and Cheng Gang’s flight still hadn't taken off...
Qiu Lu had caught a cold and couldn't stop blowing his nose into a box of tissues. Helpless, Wang Zhuo changed the original plan, leaving Qiu Lu at the hotel while he went out to find a place.
Arriving at the hotel parking lot, Wang Zhuo waved down a security guard and asked him to help siphon gasoline out of the pickup truck’s fuel tank.
The guard looked somewhat amused. “Sir, are you trying to siphon gas into another vehicle? There’s a gas station about three hundred meters to the left; if you really can’t start it, you can buy a canister and bring it back.”
“I’m worried someone will steal my truck,” Wang Zhuo said with a smile, patting the pickup’s fuel tank. “If I drain the gas, no one can drive it away.”
Another weirdo today! If you’ve been a security guard for too long, nothing surprises you anymore. The guard stopped asking questions and cooperated, using a plastic tube to drain the gasoline from the tank into a large white bucket Wang Zhuo had brought.
“Do you want to drain this car too?” the guard asked, pointing to another vehicle Wang Zhuo’s group had driven, a brand-new Audi Q7 with temporary plates.
“We’ll leave this one, thank you,” Wang Zhuo said, taking out a pack of Yuxi cigarettes and handing them to the guard. He opened the Q7’s rear hatch.
Earning a pack of cigarettes for a small favor, the guard felt quite pleased. Then he watched as Wang Zhuo locked the hatch and hailed a taxi on the roadside.
After the cab pulled the strange man away, the guard couldn't make heads or tails of it: why would this guy abandon a Q7 worth over a million yuan to take a taxi, yet siphon gas from a pickup truck worth tens of thousands because he was afraid of theft, while treating the Q7 as if it were nothing?
He didn't know that locked in the pickup’s storage compartment were treasures valued in the tens of millions. If the Q7 were stolen, insurance would cover the loss; but if the treasures vanished, there would be no compensation!
The nation’s top city was truly extraordinary. Wang Zhuo hired a taxi for a hundred yuan an hour, with parking fees borne by him. The driver insisted this wasn't extortion and carefully broke down the costs for Wang Zhuo. If he hadn't suddenly come into money, that day’s taxi fare would have consumed two months of his living expenses.
It took two days, but Wang Zhuo finally bought a used apartment in Xuhui. It wasn’t even half the size of his place in Hongkang Shengshi, yet it cost him over three million yuan—fifty percent more than the price of two top-floor units combined.
The cost of living in the metropolis was staggering, but it only made him more eager to gauge the city's purchasing power.
...
September 1st, the registration day, finally arrived.
Early in the morning, Wang Zhuo walked for a little over ten minutes from his residence to the campus.
The streets outside the school were lined with cars belonging to parents of students. With over four thousand students returning over these two days, nearly a thousand cars needed parking space daily, resulting in absolute gridlock.
Although a few wisps of rain drifted down, the campus brimmed with a festive atmosphere. Large welcome banners for the incoming freshmen were hung at the school gate, along main thoroughfares, and on every building. Naive-looking new students and spirited parents were everywhere.
Wang Zhuo, however, was alone—empty-handed, without luggage, and unescorted, appearing even more relaxed than the returning upperclassmen.
Fortunately, every staff member or volunteer greeting the new students wore a name badge. On two occasions, parents trying to conscript helpers saw he lacked a badge and walked away disappointed.
Registration, paperwork, collecting items—once a small group of freshmen from adjacent dormitories were assembled, a volunteer led Wang Zhuo and the others toward the student dormitories.
“Hey, buddy!” a fair-skinned, bespectacled young man greeted Wang Zhuo enthusiastically. “You’re reporting alone? Which department are you in?”
Wang Zhuo smiled back. “I’m in Clinical Medicine. How about you?”
“Clinical Medicine? Five years or eight? I’m in Stomatology. My name is Zhou Huai'an!” The spectacled youth flashed a brilliant white smile at Wang Zhuo.
“I’m Wang Zhuo, and I’ll be living on this campus for eight years.” Wang Zhuo extended his hand to shake Zhou Huai'an's.
“A direct Ph.D. track?!” Zhou Huai'an whistled in awe, giving a thumbs-up. “Dude, you’re awesome!”
“Zhou Huai'an?” The senior student leading the way turned back with a chuckle. “You have the same name as the male protagonist in New Dragon Gate Inn?”
Zhou Huai'an nodded. “My mom is a huge movie fan, a die-hard. She loves Tony Leung Ka-fai the most.”
The senior student looked at him and Wang Zhuo. “Why are neither of you carrying any luggage?”
Zhou Huai'an at least had a laptop bag slung over his shoulder, while Wang Zhuo was completely empty-handed. In contrast, the other freshmen were laden with bags and accompanied by family entourages, making the two stand out.
Zhou Huai'an explained, “My home is in Putuo District; I know this area well. I can just buy bedding later.”
“Run, it’s pouring!”
A parent suddenly shouted, and immediately the sparse raindrops turned into a torrent. Before anyone could even open an umbrella, everyone scrambled toward a small building nearby for shelter.
The rain came down with sudden intensity, turning the world outside into a blinding sheet of white. Just as they congratulated themselves on finding timely shelter, the senior student guiding them opened his umbrella and urged, “Don’t hide, let’s go.”
A woman in her forties asked, bewildered, “With rain this heavy, an umbrella won't help. How can we walk?”
An older man chimed in, “Yeah, we should wait here for a bit. We’ll be soaked to the bone if we walk twenty meters now.”
“Let’s just shelter here for a moment. My son has poor health; if he gets rained on, he’ll catch a cold,” the woman said, her tone mild but carrying an immovable will.
“Is there a strange smell in here?” a girl asked, wrinkling her nose.
Wang Zhuo also caught a scent he couldn't quite place. Zhou Huai'an quickly jumped in, “It’s obvious! It’s the smell of formalin. We’re here to study medicine; we’ll be dealing with this smell every day from now on!”
At this, the son, coddled by his mother, spoke with a trembling voice, “Mom, I think we should go~~~”
After saying that, the gentleman didn't seem willing to linger a second longer. He opened his umbrella and bolted into the downpour, turning back to wave, “Hurry up and come out, you guys! That building is the Ossuary!”
“Son, come back! Where are you going in rain like this?!” The woman cried out, rushing into the rain to drag him back. “What nonsense are you talking about? What ossuary is there in the school?”
Zhou Huai'an suddenly slapped his thigh. “Damn, this is the morgue! Let's go!”
Now everyone understood. The twenty-odd people instantly sprinted out into the rain without looking back. The more timid didn't even grab their belongings, fleeing for their lives. Those with more courage ran a few steps, then looked back to see Wang Zhuo and the senior student helping everyone gather their things.
.................................... Author Hong Chang Facai’s Note: The theme of this book is lighthearted and refreshing. There will be no horror elements, and any occasional references will be limited to interesting anecdotes from medical school life, nothing that will strain your nerves or heart. Please read with ease.