Chapter Seventeen: An Essay

"Xiaoye, what brings you here?" After eight o'clock every evening was Wang Mengzi's writing time. In her words, the night was quiet and inspiration was less likely to be interrupted. So Zhang Ye knew that unless something special came up, Wang Mengzi would never go out after dusk.

"I brought you some watermelons," Zhang Ye replied with a gentle smile, lifting the black bag in his hand, which was marked by two perfectly round impressions. The bag contained two watermelons, each weighing seven or eight pounds, yet he carried them as if they were weightless.

This was the result of physical training. Zhang Ye had always been fit, having jogged with his grandfather since childhood. After his rebirth, he increased the intensity of his workouts, gradually incorporating exercises he had learned from his master. Though at first the strain caused him aches and pains, he had now fully adapted.

Now, Zhang Ye could execute some basic moves without worrying his body would give out from exhaustion or soreness.

"Look at you, bringing gifts when you visit your aunt. How much were they? Let me pay you," Wang Mengzi said, momentarily surprised but quickly ushering Zhang Ye inside.

"No need for money. The fruit shop is owned by a good friend of mine. I helped him watch the shop, and these two watermelons are my wages," Zhang Ye chuckled, promptly setting the watermelons in a cool corner of the room.

"Alright, I won’t stand on ceremony," Wang Mengzi replied, her eyes crinkling with a smile. With Zhang Ye, formalities were unnecessary.

"By the way, Aunt Wang, what kind of news is your newspaper investigating these days?" Zhang Ye asked casually as he sat down on the sofa.

Wang Mengzi set a watermelon to soak in cool water, then came to sit beside him. "Why do you ask?" she said, but without pressing further, she explained, "Lihua County isn't that big. What news could there be? Every day it's some petty theft or another construction project—trivial things. Lately, though, the heavy rains have caused major damage, so our reporters have been sent out to various places. I wanted to go too, but since I’m still new, I can only do office work at the paper."

"Could you submit an article to your editor?" Zhang Ye asked, feigning nonchalance. Wang Mengzi worked at the Lihua Morning Post, which was run by the county's publicity department—a semi-governmental institution with significant influence and a wide subscription base.

Zhang Ye had thought of a way to prevent the polluted watermelons from Qiyuan Town from entering the market—through the Lihua Morning Post, where Wang Mengzi worked. If the paper reported on the dangers of the contaminated watermelons, it would surely draw the attention of county leaders, who would be compelled to act and stop the affected fruit from reaching households.

"Why do you ask?" Wang Mengzi asked again, frowning, her tone now wary.

Today, Zhang Ye seemed different to her—more mature, but also harder to read.

Zhang Ye fell silent, then, under Wang Mengzi’s steady gaze, took out a sheet of paper densely filled with writing. "I wrote this, Aunt Wang. Please have a look."

"What is this?" Wang Mengzi, puzzled, accepted the page.

"On the Environmental Hazards Posed by Qiyuan Town’s Chemical Plant"—the title was unremarkable. Environmental protection articles like this had become increasingly common in major newspapers as China engaged more with the world.

Who doesn't want to live somewhere beautiful, breathing fresh air under blue skies? But for the sake of economic development, officials often resorted to "pollute first, clean up later."

The argument itself was valid, but rarely effectively implemented.

Still, since this was written by Zhang Ye, Wang Mengzi read it carefully. The first thing that surprised her was his handwriting—at first glance plain, but upon closer inspection, it radiated quiet strength. She wasn't an expert, but she could tell it was extraordinary.

Masking her astonishment, she read on, only to be surprised again by the unique perspective and arguments.

At first, Zhang Ye's article was much like others: discussing the dangers of chemical plants, the discharge of wastewater into rivers, and its accumulation at Qiyuan Town's Clearwater Dam.

Then, the article shifted to the recent heavy rains, the collapse of the dam, and torrents of polluted water flooding the fields and melon gardens.

It went on to discuss the impact of contaminated soil on future crops, emphasizing the toxicity of the watermelons, and the dangers if they entered the market. The warnings were slightly exaggerated, but plausible enough to feel frighteningly real.

"You wrote this? Is everything in here true?" After reading it carefully, Wang Mengzi could no longer contain her surprise. She grabbed Zhang Ye's hand and asked.

It was simply stunning—not the writing itself, but the originality of the argument. What amazed her even more was that Zhang Ye, at only sixteen, had written it.

"Yes, I wrote it," Zhang Ye admitted. "Though there’s no scientific proof yet of all the dangers, everything I wrote is possible. Especially since Qiyuan Town is famous for its watermelons, and our Lihua County is the main market. If those contaminated watermelons get sold here, it could easily cause mass food poisoning."

Seeing Zhang Ye’s earnestness, Wang Mengzi’s expression became grave. "Alright, I’ll submit this article for you first thing in the morning—no, I’ll send it tonight. The sooner it’s published, the better." Without further ado, she hurried to grab her handbag and rushed out.

As a reporter, she was well aware of the newspaper's workflow. This was the time for final edits and layout; there was still time for the article to appear in tomorrow’s paper.

Zhang Ye quickly stood up and called out, "Aunt Wang, I’ll go with you. It’s better to have company on the way." Until the danger was resolved, he didn’t want Wang Mengzi exposed to any risks alone.

"How did you come up with this and write it all down?" On the way, Wang Mengzi stole several glances at Zhang Ye, unable to suppress her curiosity any longer.

"I visited Qiyuan Town a few days ago and saw the state of the dam. Then today I heard it had collapsed and the river had flooded the fields, so I couldn't help but write about it," Zhang Ye replied, scratching his head and playing dumb.

He certainly wasn’t about to tell Wang Mengzi that all this had been driven by his own personal concerns. If he hadn’t bought up so many watermelons, he probably wouldn’t be worrying about these matters at all.

"Xiaoye, you really have grown up," Wang Mengzi said, pinching his cheek with joy and affection. She was truly impressed with him this time.

Rubbing his cheek, a little embarrassed, Zhang Ye said, "Um, could you add just one more sentence to it?"

PS: Only one chapter today; things are busy at home. My apologies!