Chapter Five: Differences

By the time he returned home, dusk had already fallen. Gazing at his parents, who seemed much younger, Zhang Ye’s heart surged with emotions—excitement, uncertainty, and an indescribable joy. In his previous life, his parents had worried endlessly because of him. To ensure he lived with dignity, their care had been meticulous, covering every aspect from food to shelter.

“Dad, Mom, I’m home!” Looking at the familiar yet strangely foreign house before him, Zhang Ye felt his heart tremble.

Zhang Ye’s father was a middle school teacher. Now, with summer vacation just a month in, he was naturally at home. His mother worked as an ordinary employee at Haiping Company. Though she sometimes worked overtime, things weren’t busy at this time of year, so she had already finished work.

His father, Zhang Haiguang, perhaps due to his profession, was always a bit stern and strict about Zhang Ye’s education. Seeing Zhang Ye, he merely nodded, then lowered his head again to read the newspaper.

“You’re back. How was your time at your grandmother’s? How are your grandparents’ health?” Zhang Ye’s mother, Liu Meiju, was making dinner. Hearing her son’s voice, she hurried out of the kitchen to ask.

In the past, Zhang Ye would have brushed it off with a perfunctory reply. Now, however, he wouldn’t be so dismissive. “It was great. Every day I’d go jogging with Grandpa… Mom, let me help you.”

As he spoke, Zhang Ye strode into the kitchen, ready to wash the vegetables and cook.

“Go on, go on. Is your cooking even edible? I’d better do it myself,” Liu Meiju said, doubting her son’s culinary skills. After all, he’d always been waited on hand and foot and had never set foot in the kitchen. She truly feared he might mistake sugar for salt.

“Alright, then. Tonight’s dinner will be mine to make. Just watch and see.” With that, Zhang Ye gently pushed Liu Meiju out of the kitchen.

Though Zhang Ye had never cooked in this life, in his previous one, living away from home, he’d had to take care of himself. Washing clothes and cooking meals were daily tasks. Being particular about his food, he’d honed his culinary skills to ensure he ate well.

“Alright, just be careful not to burn yourself,” Liu Meiju called out, watching her son’s confident demeanor. She didn’t want to undermine his confidence, so she let him be, figuring she could always redo the meal if needed.

In the kitchen, Zhang Ye glanced at the vegetables at home and began his preparations. Washing and chopping, his movements were skilled and natural, exuding the air of a man accustomed to domestic life.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Liu Meiju leaned on Zhang Haiguang’s shoulder and said, “Old Zhang, have you noticed how much our son has changed since coming back from his grandmother’s?”

“I haven’t. How has he changed?” Zhang Haiguang didn’t look up, his eyes fixed on the newspaper.

“For example, this time—he used to be as lazy as a pig, practically wishing he could eat in bed. But now, he’s actually started cooking for himself.” At this, Liu Meiju glanced again toward the kitchen, as if confirming she wasn’t imagining things.

“Hmm!” Zhang Haiguang nodded, still not looking up.

“All you ever do is read the newspaper. What national affairs can a teacher like you possibly care about? You’d be better off paying more attention to your son.” Seeing this, Liu Meiju was displeased and snatched the newspaper from his hands in a burst of temper.

After placing the last plate of stir-fried tomato and egg on the small round table in the inner room, Zhang Ye smiled, “Try it and see how my cooking is.”

He’d prepared only a few simple home dishes, but with his special touch, they looked and smelled delicious.

Zhang Haiguang tasted the tomatoes and nodded. “Not bad. The flavor is good, no worse than your mother’s.”

Liu Meiju was pleased, though her gaze was somewhat suspicious. “Who taught you this? Grandma?” She couldn’t shake the feeling her son was different from before.

“I’ve watched others cook often, and following recipes, I gradually got the hang of it,” Zhang Ye replied vaguely.

Just then, the old twenty-one-inch Peony-brand TV in the living room broadcast a news report.

“Today, on the road from Xiongchun Town to Lihua County, a robbery involving two knife-wielding men took place on Mr. Li’s bus. The lives of over twenty hostages were seriously threatened. As the criminals began collecting money, a sudden twist occurred—Mr. Wang bravely resisted, and shortly after, a first-year high school student fought back and subdued the assailants. At a critical moment, another criminal appeared, holding a woman hostage, but the high school student cleverly rescued her, and the hostages escaped danger. Since he refused to reveal his name…” The report was followed by interviews with the bus driver and ticket collector, offering further details.

“Xiao Ye just returned from Xiongchun Town, didn’t he?” Zhang Haiguang frowned, looking at Zhang Ye with questioning eyes.

“I’m not sure. I must’ve been on another bus,” Zhang Ye replied, lowering his head in denial.

Liu Meiju’s heart trembled, and she glanced anxiously at Zhang Ye. “That was close. Thankfully, our Zhang Ye wasn’t on that bus. But these high school students nowadays are incredible—daring to take on knife-wielding criminals, who are dangerous desperados!”

As a teacher, Zhang Haiguang paid extra attention to the incident. After all, there weren’t many schools in Lihua County—either Number One or Number Two. The student involved could very well have been one of his own, so he couldn’t help but be concerned.

Zhang Ye smiled bitterly, touching his smooth cheek. He didn’t feel particularly heroic; thinking back to that moment, he still felt uneasy.

“Zhang Ye, if you ever encounter something like that, you must stay far away. Don’t try to be a hero,” Liu Meiju warned, glancing at her son. She hadn’t realized he was a high school sophomore.

“Understood.”

Others might have sought to boast about such an event, but Zhang Ye was different. His concern was how not to worry his parents. As a result, the promised twenty thousand yuan reward from the public security bureau would be hard to claim openly.

It was thanks to Zhang Ye and Wang Yuxiu’s resistance that the criminals were subdued. He wasn’t sure about Wang Yuxiu, who had already left by the time Zhang Ye did, but he himself had been promised a reward of twenty thousand yuan.

Of course, Zhang Ye knew that since Chief Ye had made a promise, the money wouldn’t be withheld. Still, how long it would take to receive it was uncertain. The efficiency of government officials nowadays was a bit better than in the twenty-first century, but not by much.