Tag: sports (page 2 of 3)

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After the bone broth in the soup pot began to boil, Zhang Sushang added vegetables, and a while after that he took the pot out of the fireplace and placed it on their new table.

Then he put their equally new iron wok on the fire, added oil, carrots, and slices of meat, and began to stir fry.

Alexei cut the lieba into pieces. When the stir-fry was done, they would use it to sandwich the meat and vegetables.

Zhang Sushang didn’t eat the stir-fry himself, feeling that eating something with so much oil would interfere with his weight, instead he left it all for Alexei. That man used to be undernourished so he had night blindness, always bumping into things as soon as the sun set – it was just right to eat more carrots and livers to supplement his vitamin A. This dish was made with him in mind.

He had always been very serious about the task of eating. Seeing the way he concentrated on eating with his head down, Alexei couldn’t help but sigh. “Chyushka, the way you eat makes me feel like the food’s tastier than it is.”

Zhang Sushang looked at him blankly with bulging cheeks, exactly like a hamster that had stuffed its mouth full of food. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

He swallowed, then smiled. “Actually I was very naughty at mealtimes when I was younger, I always got distracted. I remember once when I was six, my dad sent me to school and fed me breakfast on the way, and as a result I couldn’t finish a single piece of bread from stepping out of my house to arriving at school. I got a beating for it.”

He had been the kind of naughty kid who never finished his food before making a fuss because he wanted to watch TV or play with Legos. The elders in his family worried a lot about him but he just couldn’t change it, no matter how much they hit or scolded him. Later it was also because he didn’t eat properly that his bones weren’t strong enough – when he was fourteen, his bones couldn’t support quad jumps and he broke a leg, and as a result, missed out on the Junior Grand Prix that year.

Therefore, injuries delayed his entry into the Junior Grand Prix until he was fifteen years old, and in the end he finished in second place because the difficulty level of his jumps weren’t high enough.

It wasn’t that Zhang Sushang didn’t want to conquer quads, but he began puberty soon after, his height and weight both skyrocketed, and it happened to be his third year of high school. The enormous pressure made his mentality collapse until he had to retire in favour of studying.

It could be put this way: if athletes didn’t eat properly, they would pay the price one day. Zhang Sushang’s price had been painful indeed. Until the day he retired, he never won a single championship.

Because he suffered in this area before, Zhang Sushang was very cautious now. He decided to make his own calcium powder after strength training.

He had to supplement calcium!

Calcium powder wasn’t hard to make, just crush eggshells into powder; the strong Alexei took over this task. The ground calcium powder was then stored in a glass jar, from which they would use a spoonful every day by mixing it with either water or rice. Although it didn’t taste very good, such a thing was nothing compared to good health.

However, Zhang Sushang also paid great attention to the intensity of calcium supplementation — overly high calcium levels could result in developing kidney stones, would he have to undergo surgery at that time?

Penicillium wasn’t discovered until 1928 and penicillin wasn’t produced in significant numbers until 1944, while sulfa¹AKA sulfonamide, the first broadly effective antibacterial drug was discovered in 1932 but wasn’t publicly announced until 1935…

Before antibiotics appeared on the stage of history, Zhang Sushang didn’t dare to lay on an operating table, it was just too dangerous. A single slip of the hand would cut his grand plan of living 90 years short.

Alexei didn’t put nearly as much thought into it. Since Zhang Sushang wanted to eat calcium powder he would help make it, and would also eat some from time to time.

If Zhang Sushang wanted to do strange movements in the apartment, he would also do jumping jacks next to him. Ever since they began exercising, Alexei could feel that he had more energy. A while ago when he helped his supervisor move books he went up five floors in a single breath, and later when he met a drunk classmate he easily subdued him and sent him to the infirmary.

There weren’t many things to do for fun these days. Exercising with friends could bring both health and strength, so there was no reason for Alexei to abstain.

Bang!

Bang!

Today, Zhang Sushang started a new routine.

He took two steps forward, jumped, turned one and a half times in the air, then landed firmly on one foot.

Their apartment’s floors were made of wood and Zhang Sushang was a big man, landing wasn’t a quiet affair. The banging sound was from him.

Zhang Sushang couldn’t only jump forwards with 1.5 rotations, he could also jump backwards with two rotations. Alexei, watching this nearby, only felt that he jumped very high and that his turns were shockingly fast.

That was of course a given, Zhang Sushang’s training regimen had targeted his core and leg muscles.

It was also due to the good foundation this body gave him. Although it was a bit fat when he first arrived, he did get enough nutrients during his growth period so his muscles and bones were all healthy enough to endure training of a higher intensity.

If the body belonged to someone who had bones more brittle than the elderly due to dieting or malnutrition during childhood, not only would Zhang Sushang be much more hesitant with his bodybuilding exercises, he would also have to be exceedingly careful while jogging for fear of damaging his knees.

The result the next day was that Alexei, who had improved his health by exercising, fell ill.

Zhang Sushang had discovered something was wrong after he returned from his morning jog. Like him, Alexei had a very accurate biological clock; usually by the time he finished running, Alexei was already up and heating milk on the stove while reading an old book with gusto.

Yet today Alexei was still in bed with fever. While he was dizzy and confused, someone touched his forehead, forced him to wake up, and fed him a glass of warm water.

“Apart from the fever, are you uncomfortable anywhere? Sore throat? Blocked nose?” Zhang Sushang asked, moving a stool next to Alexei’s bed.

Alexei himself was quite relaxed. “I forgot you’re a medical student. My throat hurts a bit, and my nose is also blocked. I want to blow my nose, can you hand me a tissue?”

Zhang Sushang did. Alexei turned away, blew his nose, and crumpled the tissue into a ball then wanted to get up to throw it away himself, but was stopped by Zhang Sushang who took the tissue and opened it up. The snot was yellow.

It looked like he just had the common cold, but Zhang Sushang was just a first-year and didn’t dare to make a diagnosis directly. Instead he boiled a pot of water, placed it next to Alexei and ordered him to drink it, then went out the door.

He planned to call Jiang Jinghu over.

Jiang Jinghu, who came from a family of traditional Chinese medicine practitioners, learned how to identify herbs from his grandfather since he could remember, and studied how to read by using a book of prescriptions. He began going to the clinic with his father at ten years old and had seen more patients than most who had already graduated. Although Zhang Sushang hadn’t been sick since he travelled through time, if he had any sports injuries — sore muscles, twisted ankles, and so on — he would go find Jiang Jinghu.

Little Dr. Jiang’s acupuncture and massage skills really were very good, yesterday he helped straighten the bones of an old man who collected rubbish at the back of the university. Zhang Sushang trusted traditional Chinese medicine quite a bit, because he knew of many athletes who were only able to return to the competition field with its help.

Fortunately it was the weekend, otherwise he would have to help Alexei take sick leave. On the less fortunate side, Alexei could only spend his weekend recovering from sickness.

When he found Jiang Jinghu, the young man was seated outside and in the process of memorising textbooks. He still stuttered a bit in daily Russian conversations but could already read everything fluidly, and remembered everything he learned. If Zhang Sushang named a page, he could accurately recite the contents of that page.

With this level of hard work, Zhang Sushang felt that Jiang Jinghu’s choice of schools would never be limited by his grades.

He squatted beside him for a while. When Jiang Jinghu finished memorising that page, he didn’t even lift his head as he asked, “What?”

“Inviting you for a house call,” Zhang Sushang said.

Jiang Jinghu instantly jumped up. “Then why’d you wait for me? Just drag me away if there’s a patient, don’t hesitate when there’s a disease!”

Zhang Sushang muttered under his breath that it wasn’t a big problem, otherwise he would have brought Alexei to a hospital, he didn’t lack the money for it now. However, Jiang Jinghu still asked him about the patient’s situation in detail as he packed up his medical kit as fast as possible.

“You think it’s a cold right? Did you see the colour of his tongue?”

Jiang Jinghu pulled Zhang Sushang along in a hurry. Zhang Sushang followed at the speed of a brisk walk, and found that this weak little doctor was covered in sweat after just a few hundred metres.

Sighing quietly, he picked up the medicine kit and Jiang Jinghu himself, and began running.

Wu Yeming and Li Yuan watched their backs fade from view. “Although Qiupu lost a lot of weight, his physique is the best of us four. I certainly can’t carry Jiang Jinghu’s hundred kilogram body,” Li Yuan sighed.

Looking at his body which barely reached 1.6m, Wu Yeming fell into silence.

During the early 20th century, even men from Europe and America had only an average height of 1.65m — for example, the Olympic silver medalist Misha was considered to be of middling height, not short. The average height of Chinese men was 1.6m, and people from the north were generally taller than those from the south. Li Yuan couldn’t be said to be shorter than average, but he wasn’t tall either.

Wu Yeming was 1.72m tall and relatively fair, so he had been known as a handsome young man in the areas surrounding his hometown.

Jiang Jinghu was jostled all the way and almost puked, but insisted on examining Alexei. During this time Alexei went to the bathroom twice, he obviously drank a lot of water.

Taking his notebook, Jiang Jinghu wrote a few lines. “Qiupu, you were right, it’s just a cold. Drink more hot water, sleep it off, he’ll be fine in a few days. If you want him to get better faster, I can give him acupuncture and moxibustion, then some cupping.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Zhang Sushang said sincerely as he placed a jar of pickled vegetables on the table.

Jiang Jinghu coughed a little shyly. “Don’t call me doctor, I haven’t graduated yet, and you’re better than me at Western medicine. In the future we’ll have to work together to promote the development of Chinese medicine.”

There were advantages and disadvantages to being a medical student. For example, if you walked into a hospital and saw that your attending doctor was someone who almost failed a class, you would definitely want to immediately turn and leave, but if you found that your attending doctor was a top student, your mentality would be completely different.

Zhang Sushang was just such a ‘top student’ in Jiang Jinghu’s heart. He had already decided that if he needed to get surgery after returning to China, he would definitely look for Zhang Sushang.

The two medical students leisurely discussed Alexei’s treatment plan. Alexei listened to them communicating in Chinese. Although he was confused, his trust in Zhang Sushang ensured that he didn’t protest.

Until Zhang Sushang pressed him down while Jiang Jinghu took out a needle, passed it through a candle flame, and jabbed him with it.

“Ow! What’re you doing!” Alexei yelped.

“We’re using Chinese medicine to treat you,” Zhang Sushang and Jiang Jinghu replied.

Alexei felt that his trust had been destroyed. While lying prone to receive the needles, he deeply reflected on the fact that he didn’t go to find the school doctor or a hospital when he fell sick, but instead trusted two unreliable first-year students.

When Jiang Jinghu lit dried mugwort and put it on him, he almost got up and poured water on himself. Lord, these two are lighting fires on me!

Was this medicine? No! This was witchcraft!

However, Zhang Sushang worked hard to keep this 1.9m tall young man from a warrior nation down. “Believe us, I won’t hurt you, Lyosha, be good,” he said softly.

Alexei almost cried, but five minutes later, he felt a wave of warmth throughout his body. 

It was actually quite comfortable.

Could it be that Chinese medicine actually was useful?

Only then did Zhang Sushang remember that doctors had to communicate with patients and their family before any operation took place. He and Jiang Jinghu didn’t consider acupuncture and moxibustion as anything unusual so they forgot to tell Alexei.

He sat on the edge of the bed and began to explain Jiang Jinghu’s methods, as well as the ancient family of doctors he came from and the achievements of his father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and other ancestors, praising to the point that Jiang Jinghu became embarrassed.

When Alexei’s mood calmed down, he looked curiously at Zhang Sushang. “Is Chinese medicine so amazing?” he asked.

Zhang Sushang raised his arm and exerted force, making its muscles bulge. “Of course, Jinghu helped me cure my sore muscles.”

Sometimes knowing how good a doctor was could encourage patients — until Jiang Jinghu took out a bamboo cup, swept its insides with fire, then pressed its opening on Alexei’s back.

Alexei: “Ouch!”

Thanks to Jiang Jinghu’s efforts, Alexei’s cold was cured the next day. This Russian young man was very curious about the round marks on his back — he looked at them in the mirror again and again, and even secretly grabbed Zhang Sushang to ask if Jiang Jinghu could do more cupping for him.

The soreness in his neck and shoulder muscles were all alleviated after that session, Chinese medicine was amazing!

Zhang Sushang, whetstone in hand as he carefully sharpened the blades of his newly purchased skates, replied casually, “You can’t do it every day, otherwise you’ll lose yang energy.”

Alexei was befuddled. What was yang energy?

When the skates were done, Zhang Sushang meticulously placed them in a box, then he took a few steps forward, raised his arms, and jumped with two rotations. When he landed, he kept his arms raised as he spun twice; he wanted to spin for a third time, but lost his balance and only avoided falling with Alexei’s support.

Alexei’s jaw dropped. A long while later, he reacted, pointing a finger at Zhang Sushang. “Chyushka, you know ballet?”

His pose just now with both arms raised was basically the third position from ballet! The spin was also so clearly a ballet move that it was clear at a glance.

Zhang Sushang — who began learning dance when he was four years old, majoring in ballet and minoring in classical dance, and who won the gold medal in the junior category of the National Ballet Competition — was very modest. “I’m just an amateur,” he said.

He truly did think that his current level was very amateurish, because although his mind had the skills and the dance awareness, his body couldn’t keep up! His posture was much worse than even the ‘Prima of the Universe’²Referring to Misty Copeland, who’s rather unpopular in China — antis claim she has mediocre skills and relies on her race to get ahead who had an infamously bad reputation, and there was serious displacement while spinning. If his previous dance teacher could see it, Zhang Sushang would definitely be beaten to death.

Not to mention that the early 20th century was a time when masters were everywhere. Although the legendary virtuoso Vaslav Nijinsky had already retired from the stage for eight years due to schizophrenia, his reputation was still there and he remained a god that many male dancers admired.

Ballet queen Anna Pavlova was still touring.

Galina Ulanova was two years away from graduating and joining the Kirov Ballet.

Isadora Duncan, the pioneer of modern contemporary dance, was still full of energy.

Another mother of modern dance, Martha Graham, founded her dance company just this year.

Living at the same time as these gods, Zhang Sushang dared not say he could dance, so he could only hold on to the window sill and honestly practise his basic skills.

Even after travelling across a hundred years, he never had the thought of throwing away dance or figure skating — these were his constant companions for his entire eighteen years of existence. In the following decades, they would follow him to the end.

Alexei held his hands to his chin as he watched him practise. He was a child from a poor family who had never watched a real ballet performance in his life, he only knew that one of his seniors had a fiance who was a ballet dancer, and when she once visited him on campus, she walked like a swan.

Yes, Chyushka also looked like a swan, but he wasn’t like the ones in nobles’ gardens. He was stronger, more agile, and more energetic. He was a wild swan who could survive on his own and dared to face wind, frost, rain, and snow.

---

Author:
While everyone regards the 1.8m tall Chyushka as a strong bear, only the 1.9m tall Lyosha can regard him as a swan.

In an era when the average height is 1.65m, the two of them are really big…

Sushang first went on the ice at 3 years old and began learning dancing at 4 years old, and continued with both until 18 years old, that is, the day before time travel. He practised both daily. His foundation is very solid, but he didn’t eat well before time travel so his bones were weak and he broke a bone when doing intense training. As a result, he could only recuperate his legs during the most important 14-15 year old period — a perfectly good SSR was wasted for a long time. Then, when he finally got better, puberty hit.

Translator:
Do extensive research before engaging in alternative medicines like acupuncture, moxibustion, cupping, and other traditional Chinese medicine (TCM). Basically no studies attest to their effectiveness and most doctors consider it pseudoscience.

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• 1
  AKA sulfonamide, the first broadly effective antibacterial drug
• 2
  Referring to Misty Copeland, who’s rather unpopular in China — antis claim she has mediocre skills and relies on her race to get ahead

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As everyone knew, anatomy was a necessary subject for all medical students, which resulted in the Faculty of Medicine having the highest number of domesticated animals within Leningrad State University.

So after the second-best figure skater in the world left, the bear-like professor named Avraam dragged in a basket of white mice.

The students collectively fell silent.

Jiang Jinghu, who came from a family of traditional Chinese medicine practitioners, pointed a trembling finger at the squeaking animals and asked Zhang Sushang, “Th-Those are mice, right? Qiupu, why did the professor bring those things in?”

“Every medical student has to pass this test, be more open-minded,” he replied very calmly.

Later on, there would also be frogs, rabbits, dogs, monkeys, and more waiting for them, Zhang Sushang had a particularly open mind. After the professor handed out the mice, he first grabbed the mouse’s tail and swung it, then he turned to his groupmates Danil, Jiang Jinghu, and Ivan C to explain his actions. “Knock it out first to prevent it from biting us later.”

His father was a doctor. Many years ago he had been bitten by a small animal while taking an anatomy class and had to get the rabies vaccine — by the way, this vaccine consisted of five shots over 21 days, plus injecting rabies immunoglobulin along with the first dose,¹All true, as of 2024 it’s 3 doses if administering pre-exposure or 4 doses if post-exposure; rabies is also, for all practical purposes, 100% fatal after symptoms start for those unvaccinated it was a miserable experience.

Did the rabies vaccine exist right now?

Yes, the great Louis Pasteur developed the first version of the rabies vaccine at the end of the 19th century and successfully used it to save people. However, Zhang Sushang still didn’t want to get bitten, because his pain threshold was low and he was afraid of pain.

To dissect mice, of course, they had to be killed first. The most economical method was definitely not death by injection, both the serum and syringe cost money. No, the most common method was cervical dislocation, meaning snapping its neck, which allowed the mouse to die quickly with little pain. They still did things this way in 2050, it could be said to be a classic way of killing mice.

The professor also gave a demonstration. Who knew if these kids were brave or stupid, but the group in front of Zhang Sushang had already killed their mouse, although they used a bit too much force and ripped off the mouse’s head as well…

Human strength was like that of a behemoth compared to a small white mouse.

Jiang Jinghu, who happened to see this scene, couldn’t help but look away. “Oh good lord above,” he muttered.

Zhang Sushang and Danil looked at each other. Danil raised his head, obviously not wanting to step up, so Zhang Sushang turned towards the pale, thin, handsome Ivan C. “You do it or I do it?”

Ivan C looked at Zhang Sushang’s eager face and was silent for two seconds. “You can do it,” he said.

Zhang Sushang deftly pinched the mouse’s neck with one hand and gripped the base of its tail with the other, then twisted his hands sharply. A slight click later, the mouse’s soul returned to God’s embrace.

Someone behind them shouted, “Professor, one of our mouse’s eyeballs popped!”

Professor Avraam angrily walked over. “I told you not to use so much force, what on Earth are you guys doing!”

Compared with other groups who were in constant trouble because it was their first time killing mice, Zhang Sushang’s group was very calm. Danil picked up a syringe and a scalpel, seemingly wanting to get started on the mouse’s corpse.

“I-I want to try it too,” Jiang Jinghu said, even as he shuddered.

No matter how scared he was, the young man never forgot that he came here to learn, and this ambition made him suppress the fear in his heart.

Zhang Sushang, appreciating his enthusiasm, went to the professor to get another two mice for Jiang Jinghu to practise with. He originally wanted to get just one, but two mice took advantage of this life-or-death situation to start mating, so he simply grabbed them both.

Killing mice was just a matter of practice. “You need to practise more, after all, you’ll also have to kill rabbits and frogs in the future,” he advised Jiang Jinghu kindly.

Jiang Jinghu hesitated again and again, but what was surprising was that the quality of his cervical dislocation was no lower than that of Zhang Sushang. It was clear that when he moved his hands he was quite steady, he had a good foundation to be a doctor.

Ivan C held a mouse and dug out 10 kopecks from his pocket. “Extra mice cost money, here.”

Zhang Sushang straightforwardly accepted the coins, but when Jiang Jinghu also wanted to give money, he shook his head, took off his gloves, stole a piece of dried sweet potato from Jiang Jinghu’s pocket and stuffed it into his mouth, then put on his gloves again.

“This is enough,” he said.

His groupmates all looked at him as if he was a freak of nature. Please forgive their lack of experience, they had never seen anyone eat during anatomy class.

At this time, someone from the other end of the classroom began shouting again. “Aaaahh Professor it’s still moving!”

Professor Avraam became more and more irritable, and his roar was so loud that half the entire building could hear it.

They were only in their first year, the course load wasn’t nearly as heavy as it would be later on. After anatomy and basic chemistry in the morning, in the afternoon they gathered together for a big class — an expert from St. Petersburg Central Hospital was coming over to give a guest lecture on a doctor’s personal and professional ethics.

Zhang Sushang wasn’t the kind of student who liked to cram everything at the end of the semester. He roughly memorised everything while attending class, and later he would translate the lessons into Chinese to give to Jiang Jinghu.

Jiang Jinghu was very reluctant to accept his classmate’s hard work. “Keep your notes for yourself and use them for reviewing, I can remember most of it after reading it once and just need to go over it a few more times later,” he said.

Zhang Sushang shook his head. “It’s okay, I have a good memory too, I just need to go back and read the textbook, it won’t affect my exams. Aren’t you compiling the translated textbooks with Wu Yeming and the others? Take mine too.”

Jiang Jinghu opened his notes and found that Zhang Sushang’s translation progress had exceeded what the professor was teaching, he had done almost half the textbook.

He looked at Zhang Sushang with deep worry. “Qiupu, it’s good to work hard, but you have to take care of your body and eat as much as you can. Why don’t you have dinner with us today?” he offered.

“I’m eating fine, you guys can stop worrying about me already,” Zhang Sushang said.

His compatriots all thought that he had lost weight too quickly so he must be unhealthy, thus they always looked for opportunities to show their care, which made Zhang Sushang feel warm yet exasperated.

Jiang Jinghu constantly looked back as he left. “You’re really not coming? Then eat more tonight, tomorrow I’ll bring you more dried sweet potatoes. Don’t lose weight anymore, you’re at a healthy weight already, so don’t keep doing it.”

“I know, I won’t, I’m just exercising, it’s a good thing for medical students to keep fit,” Zhang Sushang replied as he waved him off.

When his father, a doctor, discovered that he wanted to go into the same profession, he specifically told him to never stop his habit of exercising. And when he received his admission notice, his father even reminded him that when he encountered disputes in the future, he should hide behind the expensive medical equipment first…

This arose from the many times his father had suffered physical injuries during disputes with patients in his earlier years, with the worst incident resulting in him sitting in a wheelchair for a month. After he recovered, he returned to the front line of patient care.

Nowadays, the world was so chaotic and the intensity of patient complaints may not be any less than that of the 21st century, so his exercising was for the sake of his future safety. Zhang Sushang even planned to train for short sprints and marathons when the weather warmed and the roads were no longer covered in slush.

Right now he planned to return to figure skating. This was a comprehensive sport that could lose weight, and improve body coordination, reflexes, and posture, and was the sport he was most familiar with.

The lake within the campus hadn’t yet thawed, so there were still many young people milling around there after their classes were over. There was also a place to rent ice skates nearby. Maybe it was due to the presence of an Olympic runner-up today that several of Zhang Sushang’s classmates ran there after classes.

In high-latitude places like Russia, ice sports naturally enjoyed nationwide popularity.

Zhang Sushang followed them to the place where they could rent skates. From his point of view, these skates were utterly incomparable to competition-level ice skates of the future, whether it be their thickness, length, shape, or toe pick.

Not to mention their production or material, the frozen lake itself was vastly different to an ice rink used for competitions. Skating a single lap on it would cause huge damage to the skates, and compounded with the lack of rigorous maintenance, the blades of these skates were so dull that they wouldn’t even be able to slice into a piece of braised beef.²Good braised beef is very tender and should fall apart in your mouth

Zhang Sushang squatted for a while before finally picking out a pair that he could barely accept, changed into them, and then click-clacked his way to the frozen lake surface.

Danil, who had been playing for a while, immediately skated over at the sight of him. “Chyushka, do you want to get on the ice?” he asked.

Zhang Sushang hummed but waved away Danil’s kind offer. He took a single step onto the ice and immediately did a split, causing a wave of laughter around him. Carefully getting up, he found that the gossipy Ivan B had laughed the loudest.

Anyone who stepped foot on ice was used to seeing all sorts of weird postures when people fell, but not many had seen a posture like Zhang Sushang’s which required extreme flexibility. In addition, he didn’t look like a Slav at all, so they had no compunctions taking joy in schadenfreude.

Danil looked at him with a look of suppressed amusement, but he didn’t have ill intentions towards Zhang Sushang, and there was still a bit of friendship between them due to sitting nearby. He reached out to him again. “Didn’t you say you’ve skated before? Why can’t you even stand?”

Zhang Sushang stumbled to his feet, thanked him, and tried to skate forward. Danil and Ivan B looked at each other, then followed behind him, ready to catch this guy before he broke his jaw.

At first, he skated crookedly, but after a few laps, his skating posture gradually became more graceful.

The postures of most amateur skaters didn’t look good because they stuck out their butts and kept a stiff upper body to stay upright. Moreover, they had no concept of alternating between inner and outer blades.

Contrary to what most people imagined, the blades of ice skates weren’t sharp like normal knives, rather they were U-shaped, which made it easier for skaters to keep their balance.

When the foot turned outward, the outer edge was used, and when the foot turned inward, the inner edge was used. Switching between the two allowed a skater to control their speed, including acceleration, and create beautiful lines on the ice.

In this era, some people used the changes between inner and outer blades to draw beautiful geometric figures on the ice and even created many different patterns. Compulsory figures was one of the most important basic skills in figure skating, as well as an event in figure skating competitions.

In other words, figure skaters of this era had to compete in three sub-events:

1. Compulsory figures
2. Short program
3. Free skate

Judges scored based on the quality and artistry of the skater’s movements, with a full score being 6 points, and the final ranking was determined by combining all three events. It wasn’t until 1990 that compulsory figures were removed from all international competitions.

Zhang Sushang had never used compulsory figures in competition, he only practised them as part of his training. Today was the first time he went on ice after time travelling, it was already pretty good for him to skate out a circle with how crappy these skates were.

However, to everyone else, this young man from China had a temperament completely different from others as soon as he stepped onto the ice.

Ever since he became sensible, Zhang Sushang learned ballet along with figure skating, because figure skating had the reputation of being ballet on ice. The two were almost inseparable in the future, so many young people learning figure skating also picked up ballet, which gave them exceptionally good physiques.

It was at the 1928 Winter Olympics that figure skating and ballet were truly combined — the legendary figure skater Sonja Henie, who won three consecutive Winter Olympic gold medals and ten consecutive World Figure Skating Championship titles, first introduced ballet postures in her performance at this event.

It was currently 1926. Both ballet and figure skating existed but had not made contact. Zhang Sushang’s graceful figure was a unique beauty at this time.

After finding the feeling, Zhang Sushang relaxed a lot; he opened his arms as he glided across the ice and stretched his limbs out.

The one who was best at ice skating among the first-years was actually in the same class as Zhang Sushang, more specifically, it was the Faculty of Medicine’s pretty boy — Ivan D. This guy had a childish face that was particularly irritating to look at for macho men.

He stood at the edge of the lake and watched in amazement as Zhang Sushang transformed from someone who couldn’t even stand steadily on the ice to an ice dancer within an hour.

One of the criteria for judging how good amateurs were at skating was their speed. Zhang Sushang not only skated quickly, but he was also very relaxed, this was evidently a master.

“I didn’t expect that a Chinese boy would know how to skate,” Ivan D said to the people around him.

Ivan A’s Olympic silver medalist brother, Misha Platov, had also come to the frozen lake at his younger brother’s invitation, obviously wanting to bond over ice skating.

They happened to see Zhang Sushang’s feet spread to just a bit more than shoulder width, his entire body lean back, and he drew an arc on the lake.

It was a spread eagle, a common figure skating movement that was often used by top skaters as an entrance to jumps in order to increase the difficulty. Although it looked simpler than jumping, if the skater’s balance and flexibility were too weak they would raise their butts high, which reduced the aesthetics of this move.

Someone with Zhang Sushang’s skills could of course do it beautifully, which surprised Misha Platov a lot.

When doing this action, the greater the inclination of the body and the deeper the blade was used, the bigger the resulting circle was drawn and the cooler it would look.

However, the issue was the same. If the body didn’t have the physical ability, it was very easy to fall as they leaned back. Zhang Sushang had only been in this body for three months, had only just solved issues of food and clothing, and recently lost 30kg. Things like strength training needed time to show their results, while he had only begun recovering his figure skating skills today.

Thus when he tried to do a spread eagle using the inner blades, he lost his balance and fell forward, straight into the arms of a thin yet warm person.

Misha, who was just over 1.6m and only weighed 100kg, struggled to support Zhang Sushang, who was 1.8m tall and weighed 150kg. Even though his face turned red, he still asked, “Young man, are you okay?”

Zhang Sushang held Misha’s shoulders to steady himself, then replied sheepishly, “I’m fine, I’m fine. How about you? You’re okay?”

“I’m good, I’m great,” he said as nonchalantly as he could, “I won silver at the Olympics, what can possibly happen if I just bump into you? By the way, your spread eagle just now was amazing, but it’s still a bit jerky, I suggest you practise it a bit more…”

Seeing that he was trying so hard to change the subject, Zhang Sushang followed his words. “Mr Platov, I would’ve fallen just now if you didn’t catch me. Thank you for your help, I’ll keep practising my spread eagles.”

“That’s great,” Misha replied happily, “you have good athletic ability, you skate very fast, and you have good control over your blades, I hardly ever see amateur skaters like you. If you can master spins and jumps you might even be able to try out some competitions. I mean, if you had started practising since childhood, you might’ve been able to reach the top ten in international competitions.”

Mr. Misha said this out of good intentions because he had always enjoyed encouraging young figure skaters. In addition, Zhang Sushang was Chinese; in his impression, people of this country didn’t place importance on sports, generally didn’t have any athletic talents, and had no one attending international competitions in their name. No events, no sports. None of it had even the shadow of a Chinese person.

So when he said that Zhang Sushang had the potential to be a professional athlete, it was already the highest praise he could think of for a Chinese figure skater.

Zhang Sushang, who had competed in and won second place in the ISU Junior Grand Prix at fifteen: Although I’m the most noob in my family, isn’t it a bit much to say that I can only get top ten in the world?

“See you next time,” Misha said with a smile, patting Zhang Sushang’s shoulder.

Then he pulled his brother Ivan A to the centre of the lake. Zhang Sushang watched them go, smiled, and then turned and pulled off his skates.

He still wasn’t used to this pair of skates. Its blades were so dull that he could only barely reach 70% of his original skating speed, and he always felt as if he was about to stumble. He planned to find a shop that sold proper ice skates later.

It was good timing that he was about to receive his latest batch of royalties. He’ll buy a new pair of shoes on the way home — not to mention running shoes, a pair of ice skates was indispensable to his shoe cabinet.

Behind him, exclamations continued to sound.

“He’s so good!”

“Mr. Misha can also draw circles on the ice.”

Ivan B grabbed Zhang Sushang. “Chyushka, won’t you stay and watch Mr Misha’s performance? He just did a jump!”

“Although I also want to watch, I have to go home now,” he said apologetically as he put on his cotton-soled shoes.

He had dinner at six o’clock on the dot every day, then rested for an hour — reading and doing some translations — before starting strength training. Zhang Sushang felt no need to change his schedule just to watch someone do single jumps.

---

Author:
Introducing Ivan ABCD↓
Ivan A: a petite man of 1.65m, Misha’s younger brother
Ivan B: know-it-all gossip
Ivan C: Danil’s deskmate, a pale, thin, and handsome Slavic man
Ivan D: babyface, sweet personality, likes ice skating

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• 1
  All true, as of 2024 it’s 3 doses if administering pre-exposure or 4 doses if post-exposure; rabies is also, for all practical purposes, 100% fatal after symptoms start for those unvaccinated
• 2
  Good braised beef is very tender and should fall apart in your mouth

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On yet another early morning, Zhang Sushang and Alexei had a breakfast of two eggs boiled in bone broth and lieba dipped in hot milk, then jogged to school side by side.

It was Zhang Sushang who suggested with good intentions that the two of them exercise together.

Although strictly speaking they hadn’t known each other for long, Zhang Sushang already acknowledged Alexei as a good friend. He sincerely hoped that when they both lived to be 90 years of age, they could still become pen pals and send letters across international borders.

He didn’t dare to think about doing video calls, the difficulty level required to live until that era was a bit too high.

With a former athlete like Zhang Sushang controlling their diet and training appropriately, not to mention Zhang Sushang himself who went from 168kg to 160kg, Alexei’s weight also dropped to 175kg.

When a person lost weight, their facial features would become clearer, so people with exquisite bone structure often made others feel as if they had been reborn when they slimmed down. Zhang Sushang and Alexei both fell into this category — the two of them were very eye-catching as they walked on the streets.

When passing by a second-hand bookstore, Zhang Sushang ran inside. He had just finished Twins Who Share No Blood a few days ago and was currently in the process of outlining the next installment, so he wanted to read more Russian books to improve his writing skills.

Alexei stayed at the store’s door and bought the day’s newspapers, including St. Petersburg Morning Post. When the lady boss saw him, her eyes lit up and she greeted him cheerfully.

“Good morning young man, do you want a paper? A bundle is thirty-two kopecks, but I’ll drop it to thirty for you.”

Alexei thanked her, then opened the St. Petersburg Morning Post first, muttering, “Today is Thursday.”

The lady boss chatted with him very happily. “Yes, today is Detective Ilya’s turn. It’s the one I’m looking forward to the most nowadays. Although the stories in this section are all interesting, only Detective Ilya will make me remember its storyline after laughing. I dare say that the Saint Petersburg Morning Post sells a lot more every Thursday.”

As the most important city of Russia besides the capital, Moscow, St. Petersburg had a large population and its literacy rate was among the country’s top three cities — meaning that newspapers were very popular here.

Since Detective Ilya began publication, the sales of St. Petersburg Morning Post had increased by at least 15,000 to 20,000 copies every Thursday, and this number was still on the rise.

Alexei smiled; he didn’t know why, but hearing the lady boss’s exaggerated praise of Zhang Sushang’s story made him even happier than when he was complimented.

The newspaper contained not only the story of Detective Ilya but also had a special comment section below. Every week, the newspaper would publish a review written by a specially invited critic, as well as two or three letters sent from readers during the prior week.

Their own critic would naturally have only praises to say, while the letters from readers were much more interesting.

【When I first read Detective Ilya, I just thought that it was another funny story, but as the plot developed, I found that the author’s grasp of pacing was very good. The entire thing had not one extraneous word. And at the end of the first story, the two protagonists’ discussion about whether we should pity criminals is also quite thought-provoking.】

【This is an authentic detective story thinly veiled by comedy. The concept of bait-and-switch murders is novel and bold, yet easily believable, and the design of the female characters is also very unusual. They may not be beautiful, have noble backgrounds, or have ambiguous relations with the male protagonists, but they are memorable. I think the author is someone who advocates egalitarianism.】

【I don’t know much but that donkey made a huge impact on me. That was a strong, smart donkey. I’ve decided that from now on all my sons and grandsons will be called Boris!】

Alexei fell into deep silence upon reading the last comment.

In some countries, it wasn’t an unusual situation to have the father, son, and grandson sharing a name. For example, Alexei had a classmate called Ivan Ivanovich Ankosky — from the patronymic, we can see that he had the same name as his father, meaning he was Ivan². Supposedly there was an Ivan³ in the Faculty of Mathematics next door.

Zhang Sushang ran out of the bookstore with a tall stack of books in hand. “I’m done, let’s go,” he said.

Alexei put the newspapers into his coat pocket and took half of the pile from Zhang Sushang, asking as they walked, “Your novel is very popular, why didn’t you agree when the newspaper offered to set aside a special section for you to serialise it daily?”

He knew Zhang Sushang’s writing speed. This person was fully capable of writing and editing an installment within a single day; every time, he would write a manuscript several days in advance and then throw it aside, and when the editor came to his door a few days later, he would hand it over, as reliable as clockwork.

Zhang Sushang shook his head. “The money I’m earning now is enough for us to eat meat every day, wear warmer clothes, and save some for later. I think it’s enough.”

You must know that as long as he kept updating, he could earn at least 200 rubles a month, and the editor planned to raise his manuscript fee yet again. Presumably, by the time Detective Ilya finished, he would be able to pay off his entire university tuition fee and have some left over to bring back to China.

“Writing novels is just a way to make a living in the short term. Rather than spending too much time on writing, I want to concentrate on studying, and also translating some books,” he sighed. “You also know that my Russian is very good, but my countrymen still find Russian hard to understand. Since we all want to bring more knowledge back home, it’s only right for me to put in more effort.”

Studying medicine was inherently a hard thing to do. Zhang Sushang was exceptionally gifted in languages, but he wasn’t smart like Alexei, who could learn classroom knowledge at a glance and always ranked first in exams. Yes, he had only recently realised that Alexei’s grades were super good — no wonder he was the teachers’ favourite and could support himself with scholarships.

Since he was here anyway, Zhang Sushang would only have the face to return to China if he studied his major properly. This was a matter of principle. While Jiang Jinghu, Wu Yeming, and Li Yuan had no problems with their study habits, their Russian wasn’t so good, but they worked hard. Every day the three of them would squat under a street lamp to review together until their eyes burned.

They were all future pillars of the country. Zhang Sushang really couldn’t bear to watch them struggle like this, so he simply requisitioned their textbooks and translated them into Chinese in advance every day. He would also go over to tutor them in Russian to help them overcome the language barrier as soon as possible.

Fortunately, everyone who could study abroad these days were smart people who could learn quickly, the kind who would be top students if they were placed among future generations. Zhang Sushang estimated that their Russian language level would reach a sufficient level by the end of the semester.

Thinking of this, he looked up at the grey overcast sky and said softly, “Clear days will come.”

Alexei didn’t know why he suddenly said this, so he just hummed.

When he arrived at the door of the classroom, Zhang Sushang found an unexpected crowd. He couldn’t squeeze into the classroom with the things he was carrying, and Danil who sat in the row behind him was also blocked at the door and even lost a shoe.

He went over to help kick Danil’s shoe to an empty space, where Danil thanked him and put it back on. Zhang Sushang stood on tiptoes as he looked inside the classroom. “What happened?” he asked.

“Ivan A’s brother came to see him,” someone said from behind Zhang Sushang. When he looked back, he found that it was Ivan B.

There were three Sergeis and four Ivans in their classroom. It was too confusing to remember their patronymics one by one, so Professor Yevgeny simply didn’t bother and instead added ABCD to their names to distinguish them.

According to Zhang Sushang’s memory, Ivan A was a short young man with a good family background, no more than 1.65m, while Ivan B was a well-informed boy with freckles. If anyone wanted to know school gossip, they would ask him.

“Is his brother very special?” he asked curiously.

Hearing this, Ivan B showed an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Chyushka, I know you usually focus on studying but you don’t even know this?”

Danil straightened and said to Zhang Sushang, “Ivan A’s brother is Misha Platov, he won a silver medal at the last Olympics!”

That was an Olympic runner-up!

“Oh, it turns out he’s an athlete. Is he very famous? Which sport?” Zhang Sushang responded calmly.

“He’s in the men’s singles figure skating event,” Danil replied. “Figure skating is an ice sport, athletes wear blades to perform on the ice by spinning, gliding, and jumping, and this sport is divided into three events…”

He was afraid that this country-bumpkin classmate from China didn’t know what figure skating was, so he started to explain it.

Zhang Sushang calmly added, “Men’s singles, ladies’ singles, and pair skating, I know.”

Figure skating had four events in the 21st century, the fourth being ice dance which was added in 1976.

By the way, pair skating was introduced in the 1924 Winter Olympics, which was the first Winter Olympics. Before that, the Olympics had only two figure skating events: men’s singles and ladies’ singles.¹this is untrue, pair skating debuted together with men’s and ladies’ singles at the 1908 Summer Olympics.

“You know it?” Danil asked in surprise.

“Of course I know, I also skate.”

Ivan B and Danil looked at each other with clear doubt. First of all, Zhang Sushang had never stepped foot on the ice in all the time they had known him; with the temperatures in St. Petersburg being below zero until yesterday, the lake located inside the campus was frozen solid and many people went there to play after class.

Secondly, if Zhang Sushang also skated, how could he not know the Olympic silver medalist in his own sport? Even if he only remembered the name of the champion as some people did, shouldn’t he be curious now that the world’s second-best athlete was here?

Then they saw Zhang Sushang tiptoeing and craning his neck again. “Hey, which one is Ivan A’s brother? There’s too many people, I can’t see him.”

This was the silver medalist for men’s singles skating in 1924, the first Winter Olympics! Thinking of this, his eyes lit up.

If he was in the 21st century, he would only be able to find their tombstones if he wanted to see these ancient figure skating celebrities. How exciting was it to see the real-life version!

Ivan B and Danil realised that this person actually was curious, his reaction was just a bit slow.

The anatomy professor appeared on the scene, wearing a thick coat and as majestic as a bear. “Why are you blocking the way?” he shouted.

The crowd dispersed like a flock of birds taking flight, allowing Zhang Sushang, Danil, and Ivan B to squeeze into the classroom. At this time, a handsome young man about 1.6m tall with brown hair and blue eyes happened to pass Zhang Sushang.

Their eyes met for only a second as Zhang Sushang smiled at him.

Hello, senior.

The 2053 Junior Grand Prix silver medalist greets you across 130 years.

---

Author:
Pikachyu’s dad has a room dedicated to medals which is filled with gold medals from major A-level events, including 2 Olympic gold medals, a precious silver medal, and 3 team event bronze medals.

Moreover, as a direct descendant of the best figure skater coach in the country, Qiuqiu’s social circle has several Olympic athletes. With the addition of his dad’s old rivals, Chyushka has met a lot of Olympic gold medalists, silver medalists, and bronze medalists. For a while, he thought that gold medals from A-level competitions were something everyone in his family and friends had, only he wasn’t good enough to get one… As the saying goes, he’s seen so many big bosses that he went numb.

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• 1
  this is untrue, pair skating debuted together with men’s and ladies’ singles at the 1908 Summer Olympics.

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It was a great pleasure to eat mutton in cold weather because it was warming. Whether it was used as a hot pot ingredient, simmered with chilis and other spices, or directly stewed, it was always delicious.

If you were afraid of it having a gamey taste, it didn’t matter — just poke a few holes in the radish and cook them together in cold water to remove it. Mutton and white radishes were a perfect match.

After Zhang Sushang had the money in hand, he immediately went out the door to buy mutton as well as some refined flour, and by now the soup was boiling away in the pot. He kneaded dough beside it, planning to wait until they almost finished eating the mutton and radishes before cutting the dough into noodles and cooking it.

He wasn’t afraid of not being able to finish. There were two men in their prime in this household, one 1.90m tall and 180kg and the other being 1.80m tall and 168kg, both with excellent appetites.

“Chyushka, why did you suddenly buy meat?” Alexei subconsciously swallowed when he looked at the soup pot.

Zhang Sushang waved a hand. “Because I’ve been paid my royalties, you can read A Donkey on the Railway in the Saint Petersburg Morning Post next Thursday — oh, I forgot that you’re my first reader. Anyway, we have to eat something good to celebrate.

“By the way, Lyosha, do you eat coriander?” he asked, lifting a handful of the herb.

Alexei’s eyes lit up and he nodded. “I do!”

The big bear was a good boy who wasn’t picky about food, not to mention that he hadn’t eaten many green plants during the previous winter. How could he dislike coriander?

Zhang Sushang put the chopped coriander into the mutton soup, then filled up a bowl with more mutton and radishes than soup and placed it into Alexei’s hands.

“Come on, eat it while it’s hot, food gets cold quickly in this weather.”

Holding the hot soup, Alexei’s wind-bitten fingers quickly warmed up, and as he took a sip, he felt the heat sliding down his oesophagus into his stomach. The crackling sounds of burning wood coming from the fireplace reminded him of home.

He slowly sat on his little bench and drank his soup quietly. He was obviously a big man, but right then he looked like a cute little bear cub.

Russia did have table manners, which in this case was that the soup plate and bowl should not leave the table and when there were only dregs, you should tilt the bowl and scoop out the remaining soup with a spoon; when drinking soup, there shouldn’t be any slurping sounds; if the soup was too hot, you shouldn’t blow on it, instead, you had to stir it with your spoon.

However, there was only a single dining table in their home, which had already been dominated by pots, pans, and dough, and was now Zhang Sushang’s cooking counter. Those things didn’t matter much to two poor students when they were behind closed doors.

Zhang Sushang’s family also had their own rules, specifically that you had to hold the bowl up to eat and you weren’t allowed to smack your lips. This was opposite to Russia’s custom of leaving bowls and plates on the table, so this could be said to be experiencing an exotic tradition for Alexei.

Stirring the pot with a spoon, Zhang Sushang pulled out two boiled eggs still in their shells. From his previous experience, eggs cooked in bone soup or broth were much more flavourful than those cooked in plain water.

Everyone who lived in the early 20th century, unless they came from a particularly affluent background, was greedy for meat. The same was true of Zhang Sushang. He wanted to lose weight through exercise, build appropriate muscles, and strengthen his physique in general — this all required meat.

As for Alexei, he was a man reaching 1.90m tall, yet could only subsist on potatoes all day long and most of the time could only eat until he was 70% full. He was also someone who lacked meat in his system.

When these two people let themselves go when eating, talking about rice bowls was an insult to their ability, calling them rice barrels was more apropos.

Not even fifteen minutes later, all the meat and radishes in the pot had disappeared, so Zhang Sushang put in the cut noodles. Although Russia’s economy was currently on the rise and people could expect their kitchens to become more abundant as the local five-year plan was implemented, many people could still only bear to eat white flour during holidays.

When the noodles finished cooking, Zhang Sushang and Alexei each held a large bowl and slurped them up, their faces showing the satisfaction of having carbohydrates entering the stomach.

There were so many people in later generations who said they wanted to give up carbs, but if they were presented with a bowl of fragrant rice or noodles after going hungry for a month, would they be able to resist?

Zhang Sushang responded to this question by eating very happily.

Since he time travelled, he had never worried about being over-nourished, only being malnourished, which would affect his lifespan. Now that he had money, his first goal was to enrich his diet and fill his lunchbox.

When their stomachs were stuffed full, Zhang Sushang and Alexei met eyes, both feeling a little embarrassed. They usually seemed to be people who didn’t eat much but didn’t expect that their true nature as pigs would be exposed today.

“Thanks for treating me to dinner,” Alexei said shyly.

In an era when food was precious, it was too rude to eat so much food at once.

But Zhang Sushang had no such idea. He also ate quite a lot of Alexei’s food when he first came, which Alexei didn’t object to; if now he disliked others for eating too much, what kind of person would he be?

Having money also meant that Zhang Sushang was willing to burn more coal and firewood. The two of them sat together by the fireplace, wearing thick coats and covering their legs with their quilts as fire illuminated their faces with warm orange light.

“This is great, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so comfortable before,” Alexei said lazily.

Zhang Sushang looked at him in confusion. “No way, right? You must’ve been much more comfortable at home than here.”

Alexei shook his head. “My family has eight children. It’s not easy just for my parents to support us all, how can it be good?”

In fact, he was the kind of child who suffered as he grew up — he didn’t have enough food to eat or clothes to wear and began learning a craft from his father as soon as he could walk and talk to contribute to the family’s finances. The lack of contraception in this era caused his mother to continue to have children until she suffered a miscarriage when carrying her ninth child. She and his littlest sister died together.

Although he had been born fifth, neither especially old nor young, Zhang Sushang had heard Alexei mention that he would sew skirts for his mother when he was five years old, which showed that the relationship between them should be good. For someone of Alexei’s emotional intelligence, it was impossible for him to not get along well with his family.

However, after his mother passed away, his father couldn’t raise so many children by himself. In the end, he only kept his eldest son who was twelve years old, and his eldest daughter who was eleven, and gave away his other children. Alexei was sent to an old miner’s family where he learned to repair machines. He was already smart, and when he delivered food and water to his adoptive father, he would also run errands for others in the factory; eventually, he gained the favour of a young engineer who sponsored him to attend elementary school.

“My adoptive father passed from illness after I finished middle school. I had good grades, so he asked me to sell everything in the house after his death, continue my studies, and strive to graduate from university, because only with knowledge can I become a decent man like an engineer, a teacher, or a doctor.”

Speaking of this, his eyes flashed with sadness. “As for my father and eldest brother, I tried to find them, but they had moved to escape debtors. My second sister was married off to an alcoholic when she was thirteen. Apparently, the alcoholic always beat her. She died in childbirth at fourteen. When I heard it, I hurt so much I wanted to die as well.”

Looking into his baby blue eyes, Zhang Sushang asked gently, “And now? Does it still hurt?’

Alexei looked back with a sincere smile. “Now I’m very glad that I survived.”

It could be said that the first half of Alexei’s life was a vivid recollection of the suffering of people at the bottom, but judging from his answer, he felt that the cold winter of his life was over.

Spring’s warmth came, flowers bloomed.

Even if his weird flatmate did start walking on all fours like a gorilla half an hour after dinner. Zhang Sushang said that this was to exercise his physical fitness and body coordination, he was only crawling around because he wanted to lose weight.

If the floor wasn’t too cold Alexei would accompany him, and sometimes he would even crawl with Zhang Sushang if it looked particularly interesting.

And after exercising, his body heated up and began sweating, completely chasing out the cold.

Zhang Sushang went ten laps around the apartment, did 200 mountain climbers, 50 burpees, then repeatedly raised his legs to exercise his gluteal muscles.

For figure skaters, hip and leg muscles were most important to them, as well as core strength. If their legs were weak, they wouldn’t be able to reach the requisite height when jumping; if their cores weren’t strong, they wouldn’t be able to tighten their body axis while in the air, which meant their rotation speed wouldn’t be fast enough — then naturally, it would be impossible to achieve triple or quad jumps.

From childhood to adulthood, apart from the two years when he retired from the sport to focus on high school examinations, Zhang Sushang’s body fat had never exceeded 13%. His muscle lines were clear and his leg and hip circumferences were impressive, although in the end he still couldn’t stick with the sport…

His puberty caused him to shoot from 1.55m to 1.80m in a single breath, his body’s center of gravity changed significantly, and his weight also rushed from 45kg to 65kg. Who could adapt to a change of 20 kilograms? When he entered the growth stage, Zhang Sushang lost not only all his skills but also his mentality. Even after seeing psychologists, he still suffered from anxiety and insomnia, as well as eating disorders.

In the end, his dad couldn’t stand it anymore and felt that forcing his child to endure it wouldn’t be good for his physical and mental development, so he simply persuaded him to retire in favour of studying.

Besides, their family didn’t expect Zhang Sushang to become a big athlete. Just because he was an Olympic champion in men’s figure skating didn’t mean his son had to do the same.

Then Zhang Sushang was admitted to the top domestic university, got motion sickness and vomited during driving practice due to his poor skills, and directly vomited himself to the beginning of the 20th century.

Fortunately, he had both the ability to adapt to circumstances and the determination to escape poverty. Now that the food and clothing problems had been solved and he had money on hand, he could do some strength training.

Strength training was the only way to grow muscles. Once his muscles increased, his metabolism would also increase, thereby also improving the efficiency of healthy weight loss. He had almost hit a plateau with pure aerobic exercises for weight loss, so it was the perfect time to change the training menu.

The following days for Zhang Sushang and Alexei were very nourishing.

The former’s body originally belonged to the son of a landlord, so his nutrition intake was okay, but Alexei had various problems such as dry skin, dull complexion, and frequent hair loss due to a chronic lack of lipids. He was young and in otherwise good health so his body could still hold on, but anyone’s lifespan would be affected if they were undernourished for a long time.

For the sake of their health, Zhang Sushang dragged Alexei out to the market the next day and brought home two fish, a gallon of milk, vegetables, and dozens of eggs.

If it weren’t for the fact that they didn’t have a yard where they lived, Zhang Sushang would even like to take a few hens home. Then, they could not only have eggs but also slaughter them to make soup and eat meat when they got too old to lay. He had taken a fancy to two hens with bright feathers and clear eyes at the poultry store, lively and cute, he knew at a glance that both the chickens and their eggs must be delicious, but he had nowhere to raise them!

That day their main ingredient was fish, so a delicious fish soup combined with noodles and vegetables was served for lunch. Zhang Sushang liked gnawing on fish heads and eating fish belly meat and fish eyes, but he also liked his flatmate very much so he reluctantly gave up his precious belly meat to Alexei.

Alexei glanced at Zhang Sushang and said nothing. That evening when Zhang Sushang was frying up the other fish, he silently picked out the fish’s eyes and stuffed them into Zhang Sushang’s bowl, saying that he liked eating fish tails and had no interest in other parts.

What he did reminded Zhang Sushang of his father once again. Every time they ate fish at home, his father would always give him his favourite parts.

On the third day, they brought home a beef shank. They shaved off the meat and ate it with sauce, then stewed the bone into soup. It just so happened that Zhang Sushang wanted to eat bone soup with boiled eggs.

* * *

The two of them lived days filled with good food and drinks. Alexei’s face became visibly rosier, his skin condition improved, his light blue eyes became more energetic, and his hair loss symptoms were alleviated.

He had always thought that his lack of hair was because studying physics was too taxing. Even though comparison photos of Planck from when he was young and when he was middle-aged hadn’t yet spread around the world, there were already rumours circulating within the Faculty of Physics of Leningrad State University that ‘researching physics and mathematics both lead to hair loss’.

---

Author:
The animal-inspired exercises mentioned in the text all exist in reality~

Lyosha only lost hair because he didn’t eat enough meat, the problem will be cured after he starts eating meat. There’s no need to worry that like Planck, he’ll sacrifice appearance for physics, heheheh…

Translator:
Seriously, go google pictures of young Max Planck for a laugh.

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Then Jiang Jinghu took Zhang Sushang to meet the other two. Li Yuan, who studied chemistry, was a rather short person with skin on the darker side, while Wu Yeming, who studied engineering, was a gentle and fair-skinned young man.

Despite being called young men, in truth none of them were older than twenty. They all left to study in a foreign country at particularly young ages.

When a person was away from home, their compatriots became their closest relatives. Everyone was very friendly towards Zhang Sushang, and they repeatedly emphasised for him to go to them if he encountered something difficult to solve, because they would do whatever they could to help; if he couldn’t get along with his flatmate, he could live at their dorm.

They seemed very worried about Zhang Sushang’s life — after all, who told him to show up looking like he lost half his body weight?

After working hard to lose weight for a month, Zhang Sushang not only lost a lot of fat but the flesh still on his body became denser. In the eyes of uninformed people, he must have suffered a lot to lose so much weight.

It was true that he hadn’t been eating well, but it wasn’t to the point that he wasn’t living well. Zhang Sushang could truthfully say that flatmates like Alexei who helped him repair socks and sew quilts were not only unique, but a treasure.

Moreover, last night he tried putting his left foot on his right shoulder and his right foot on his left shoulder, frightening Alexei out of his wits. If anyone was going to escape the house, it certainly wasn’t going to be Zhang Sushang.

They also invited him to eat pirozhki together.

Pirozhki, a traditional local delicacy with various auspicious meanings such as ‘sun’, ‘festive’, and ‘healthy’, were one of the most famous foods in Russia. Zhang Sushang knew it as a delicious pie with many possible fillings.

Jiang Jinghu was the one sent to buy the pirozhki. He bought four, one for each person. Biting into it, Zhang Sushang discovered it to be stuffed with mushrooms and meat, and had a little bit of onion taste. As delicious juices flowed into his throat, Zhang Sushang was so moved that he wanted to cry.

This was the first bite of meat he had since coming to this time and space, barring lard residue. People really only knew how to cherish things after they were lost. When Zhang Sushang was still a professional athlete, he only wanted to vomit when his elders stuffed him with beef, chicken, and fish, but now he would only ask for more.

Meat, eggs, and milk were the wealth of mankind; they provided protein and other nutrients that were good for strengthening the body. God knows that Zhang Sushang only dared to do aerobic exercises these days, not even touching anything anaerobic for fear that his nutrition couldn’t keep up, which would deplete his body’s foundation.

Before separating, Wu Yeming also stuffed the last salted duck egg he brought from his hometown into Zhang Sushang’s hands.

Zhang Sushang was really embarrassed and wanted to give it back, but Wu Yeming had already left, afraid that Zhang Sushang would reject his kindness. In the end, Zhang Sushang could only remember this in his heart, and decided to give them some of the sauerkraut once it was done pickling.

These days, nothing was more practical than giving food.

Alexei had something to do, so Zhang Sushang went home alone. A copy of the flat’s key had already been prepared for him. Zhang Sushang, thinking that the weather wasn’t too bad today, wanted to do some general cleaning.

For example, the floor hadn’t been swept for several days — anyways, the flat wasn’t very big, only 65m². He could easily use a wet rag to wipe down every corner of the flat and the floor in just two hours. The cobwebs on the windows and ceiling would be left to Alexei.

The firewood and charcoal also needed to be replenished, since some would be consumed every time they used the fireplace to cook. Zhang Sushang very much missed the iron stove that he saw in his granduncle’s home when he was a child, which only needed a few pieces of honeycomb briquettes to burn for a whole day and was convenient for both cooking and boiling water.

Unfortunately honeycomb briquettes wouldn’t be invented until 1949 by a Texas worker,¹charcoal briquettes were actually invented and patented much earlier by Ellsworth B. A. Zwoyer in 1897 23 years in the future and seven years after the birth of his neighbour Grandpa Lu. Yet as a time traveller, Zhang Sushang could not ‘invent’ briquettes.

This couldn’t be blamed on him. Children of his generation grew up accustomed to using natural gas and electricity, it was fortunate for him to even have seen briquettes with his own eyes.

The most important thing was that if they burned briquettes, they didn’t need to clear out the coal ash as frequently — Zhang Sushang currently had to regularly clean the fireplace of ash, otherwise the air in the flat would go bad.

After lighting up the fireplace, he heated up some water, then removed the quilt covers and pillowcases, putting them together with socks and underwear in a basin before scrubbing them.

Would you believe that this body was allergic to dust mites, just like Zhang Sushang before time travel?

Zhang Sushang didn’t even dare to air quilts outside due to how much dust would accumulate, and beating it afterwards was useless, if he did that he would spend the whole night sneezing in addition to developing pink eye and a blocked nose. His only option was to wash these things frequently and slowly dry them in front of the fire.

The quilt that Alexei had promised him was already finished, consisting of cotton wool contained within a military green fabric. Before going to bed, he would soak his feet and drink a few sips of hot water, and the feeling of snuggling under the covers and throwing his coat on top was a rare enjoyment.

To thank Alexei for his help, Zhang Sushang also washed Alexei’s blankets as well. After washing, he twisted it until it was half dry then put it by the fireplace to dry completely.

He brushed a pot with lard and, putting it on the fireplace, placed lieba and shredded potatoes inside to cook, then peeled the salted duck egg. Its oily golden yolk exuded an alluring aroma which Zhang Sushang couldn’t resist; he gave it a lick and revealed a happy face.

He hadn’t eaten salted duck eggs for so long.

After eating, he spread out pen and paper on a small table, planning to write the second instalment of the Cowardly Detective series.

His understanding of 1920s Russia was only based on his own recent personal experience, so it was unavoidable for the story to have elements from the surrounding environment and people.

In the ending of A Donkey on the Railway, the strong yet beautiful Vasily knocked on the protagonist Ilya’s door, asking him to investigate a case. Zhang Sushang continued it from here.

According to the style of this novel, for comedic effect, the door was actually opened by the donkey Boris, and the plot unfolded only after it brayed in Vasily’s face first.

Vasily was an intellectual young man with an excellent background, and a native of St. Petersburg. He had attended university in Yekaterinburg and had a degree in classical literature.

He looked for Ilya because a murder occurred near the apartment he rented — a 40 year old midwife had been killed. His cousin Mila lived near the crime scene and, apparently because she had seen the figure of the perpetrator, was pushed out from the second storey and knocked unconscious. The local police couldn’t find any clues pointing to the murderer, so Vasily thought of Ilya.

Although this guy was a coward, his case handling skills were top-notch.

The two then went to the scene of the crime together and investigated the deceased’s relationship network. They learned that this midwife had worked in the hospital for more than a decade, was quite petty, and few people liked her. She had been married once which had ended with no children, but by the furnishings in her home, she was very rich. Too rich for a midwife.

After checking all the people who had complaints about this midwife, a female high school teacher was almost arrested as the murderer — this woman once gave birth to a baby girl, yet not even half an hour later, before the baby reached her father’s arms, she turned into a stillborn. The teacher’s eldest son always insisted that the midwife killed her, but their family couldn’t provide any evidence.

However, according to further investigation, the teacher and her family were ultimately found not guilty. At this time, Vasily heard that his cousin Mila was awake and so went to the hospital with Ilya.

Zhang Sushang named this story Twins Who Share No Blood, playing with the concept of bait-and-switch murder.

As everyone knew, when police investigated homicide cases, they would first look into the deceased’s relationships to see if anyone held grudges against them, which generally led to the suspects. The important point was that this trick really was effective, and most criminals were caught through this method.

But what if the targets were switched?

Zhang Sushang first came into contact with this concept in the 1951 Hitchcock film Strangers on a Train;²the literal trope namer, as this is also known as a “Strangers on a Train”-plot murder. later, the popular Japanese drama Your Turn to Kill also revolved around this concept.

In Twins Who Share No Blood, there were two deceased persons — one was the middle-aged midwife, and the other was Mila’s stepfather. The murderers were Mila and a female prostitute named Nika.

Mila had been raped by her stepfather when she was younger, and Nika was her neighbour and friend at the time. Nika’s family was poor and her father was a cripple and a gambler, the two knew each other’s pain well and they hugged and commiserated together. Later, Mila moved away and Nika became a prostitute.

Some years later, Nika found out that she wasn’t actually the gambler’s biological daughter. He had been a human trafficker in his earlier years who had offended a ‘big shot’ and had one of his legs broken, while Nika was one of his leftover goods whom he hadn’t been able to sell.

Following this trail of clues revealed that Nika was the child of that female high school teacher, and the person who stole her from the delivery room was the middle-aged midwife.

By then, Mila had become a university student on completely different paths from the prostitute named Nika and no one had any inkling that they had ever met. Yet after contracting a sexually transmitted disease Nika was determined to take revenge before her death, so she found Mila and made an agreement to kill the one each person hated the most.

In this story, neither murderer was easy to deal with. Mila was fragile but had acting skills on par with a movie queen, while Nika was ruthless. They first knocked the physically strong Vasily unconscious with drugs, then wielded fruit knives against Ilya and almost sent him to heaven. If Mila hadn’t regretted it at the critical moment and pulled Ilya away, or Boris the donkey hadn’t bravely rescued its master, then this series would have ended right there.

At the end, Nika fell from a tall building and died. When Ilya and Vasily assisted Mila to the first floor, they saw that she held a copper medallion with the image of a crocodile in her hand.

Charismatic villains were a staple in the history of fiction, their existence guaranteed a wonderful story and plot — for example, Hannibal was more popular than his protagonist counterpart. How could Zhang Sushang forget to give his novel a powerful villain?

Oh, he wanted not only one powerful villain, but many, so that the cowardly Ilya could live a life more fulfilling and interesting than anyone else.

Speaking of which, did anyone remember that The Cowardly Detective Ilya began with Ilya leaving his hometown for St. Petersburg because he wanted to find his father?

Zhang Sushang had finished the outline and was halfway through the story when he heard a knock on the door.

Was it Alexei, back from getting his prescribed book list from the professor?

“I’m coming!” Zhang Sushang shouted.

Unexpectedly, he opened the door to an old man with a white beard and a middle-aged man with a dangerously receding hairline.

“Excuse me, is this Mister Chyushka’s home? We’re editors from the Saint Petersburg Morning Post.”

Zhang Sushang blinked, then turned sideways to allow them to enter as he casually asked, “I am Chyushka, can A Donkey on the Railway be published?”

“You’re Chyushka?” Chief Editor Iosif and Igor were both in disbelief.

They were very sure that the tall and beautiful young man standing in front of them was not Russian. Even if he spoke Russian well and without an accent, could he write such a wonderful short story in Russian?

It was just like how in the 21st century, few Chinese people believed that foreigners could write a good novel using Chinese characters. Most people couldn’t write well in their mother tongue, let alone in a foreign language.

Zhang Sushang smiled and pointed at the table. “You’re in luck, I’m currently writing the second part of Detective Ilya’s story. If you don’t believe me, you just need to wait a while.”

The two editors looked at each other and sat as he had offered. Zhang Sushang poured them some hot water, turned over the quilt covers and pillowcases roasting by the fireplace, then sat back at the small table and unhurriedly continued writing.

Compared to A Donkey on the Railway, Twins Who Share No Blood was longer so he planned to submit it in three parts.

The scratching of pen on paper was a familiar sound to all literate people from this era. As Zhang Sushang wrote, his eyes were lowered and his expression was calm, and he would occasionally stop to think for a while, seeming very focussed.

When the first part was finished, he took out another piece of paper and started copying it, during which he corrected typos, moved punctuation marks, and rearranged some words.

After copying, he handed the manuscript to the two editors. Iosif couldn’t wait to take it, and he moved next to Igor so they could read it together.

As Igor read it, he marvelled in his heart that this foreign young lad really was the author of these stories!

And it was clear that the use of words in this story was more proficient than in the previous one, while the writing style also improved significantly, likely because the author himself became better at writing in Russian.

After finishing the manuscript, Chief Editor Iosif was silent for a while before looking up at Zhang Sushang with respect.

“Mister Chyushka, I must apologise for only introducing myself now. I am Iosif Ivanovich Prosky, the chief editor for Saint Petersburg Morning Post. Your story is very good. If possible, we hope to see your stories often.”

Iosif, being 59 years old, had already read many stories, so when he read about this bait-and-switch murder case, the old editor knew that Zhang Sushang was an author that he couldn’t allow to escape.

He had to reach a long-term cooperative agreement with this person in order to keep the story of Detective Ilya with their newspaper!

Zhang Sushang wasn’t surprised by this, he chatted with them for a while before coming to a satisfactory remuneration. From then on he would contribute an article to the St. Petersburg Morning Post once a week, for which he would be paid 50 rubles. That was twice his monthly salary for cleaning the Leningrad State University’s library!

The three of them decided on a date to sign the contract, then Iosif and Igor gave the manuscript fee of 35 rubles for A Donkey on the Railway (they felt that the quality was good so they voluntarily raised their offered price) and left politely.

As soon as they left, Zhang Sushang did a backflip on the spot.

He was rich!

When Alexei finally came home after dealing with his tasks at the university, he saw his flatmate crawling around the flat in a backbend like a crab, and when he caught sight of him, Zhang Sushang smoothly rose to his feet and happily greeted him.

“You’re back, Lyosha? Tonight we’re eating mutton radish soup and piroshki stuffed with mushrooms and meat.”

Only then did Alexei smell the rich aroma of meat, and saw white soup bubbling away in a pot on the fireplace.

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• 1
  charcoal briquettes were actually invented and patented much earlier by Ellsworth B. A. Zwoyer in 1897
• 2
  the literal trope namer, as this is also known as a “Strangers on a Train”-plot murder.

< Previous | Table of Contents | Next >

Not only did Zhang Sushang return, he brought with him two thin pieces of iron to help them break the ice around the door. Thinner ice could be broken off directly, while thicker areas could still be weakened by chipping off pieces. 

Alexei held the iron piece in his hands happily. “I’ve never thought of such a good idea before,” he said.

Zhang Sushang: You only need a few minutes to get your frozen door open, you don’t need to bother using your brain at all, unlike me, who’s torn between waking you up or finding another way out myself when I want to go outside.

Their landlady, Aunt Anya, also had to knock ice loose from her door every morning to buy groceries. It was evident that warrior nations often solved problems with their own personal strength.

According to Alexei himself, he wasn’t an alcoholic, only enjoying a cup or two once in a while, but last summer he accidentally drank a bit much and used too much force while trying to open the door, causing the key to break off while inside the keyhole.

Later the landlady knocked it off with a hammer and installed a new lock. Before the new lock was installed, he lived in an apartment with a front door unable to close, yet didn’t feel there were any security issues at all.

Not everyone had the guts to rob the home of a thickly built man almost two metres tall. Alexei was fearless.

Zhang Sushang: …

As they walked, he sneaked glances at Alexei’s face. This 20 year old Slavic young man actually had a very handsome face, with a bone structure so fine that even a plastic surgeon wouldn’t dare to do anything with it, and his smiles had a child’s cheer. He had the type of face that would gain a million fans with a single photo if he lived in the modern era.

Unfortunately, the current environment wasn’t conducive for people to pay attention to their image, and Alexei himself was also quite careless about it – shaving twice a month was about the extent of his care. With the addition of his body shape, he managed to present himself as an intimidating, strong man with a childlike babyface.

God was in a good mood these days, the snow on the ground hadn’t continued to accumulate and it only took them twenty minutes to walk from the Universitetskaya Embankment to Leningrad State University.

The sky was still overcast. It may have been his illusion, but he felt as if the wind brushing past his ears carried the ocean tides. St. Petersburg was a coastal city; when the weather turned warmer, they may be able to see seagulls. It was a bit embarrassing to say, but he craved meat, to the point that he often saw chickens, ducks, geese, and other birds in his dreams.

The main gate of Leningrad State University was wide open to allow streams of students carrying books and luggage inside.

Zhang Sushang had once watched the Soviet director Dziga Vertov’s 1920s silent film Man with a Movie Camera, which let him see this era through black and white pictures. But now, as he looked at the newly poured concrete, the students’ expectant expressions, and the vitality in the air, everything felt far more vivid than through a screen.

Workers were already shovelling snow on the street, revealing tram tracks underneath. Some people had set up open horse carriages to transport people on the cleared roads. The pedestrians consisted of both men and women, but all wore thick clothes.

Looking at Leningrad State University’s gate, Zhang Sushang thought, If I didn’t come here, I’d be at Tsinghua University’s opening ceremony right now.

“Chyushka? Chyushka!”

He jumped at his flatmate’s call, and turned to see a pair of worried blue eyes.

Alexei scratched at his blond hair, looked around, then leaned in. “I have faith that one day, your country will also have a school as good as Leningrad University, and everything will get better. Isn’t this why you came here despite how hard it was?”

Zhang Sushang looked at him blankly, he actually… never had the thought of comparing the current Soviet Union with his own country, because as someone from the future, he knew very well that his motherland would one day stand proudly atop the world again. Even if there were countless hardships during this period, that time would come.

But Alexei didn’t know that, he just respected Zhang Sushang, his flatmate who left his poor and weak homeland, respected Zhang Sushang’s motherland, and respected his will to travel thousands of miles to learn.

His kindness and respect for others may be the reason why his blue eyes were so clear and pure; Zhang Sushang suddenly understood why he liked Alexei’s eyes so much.

“Thank you, Alexei,” he laughed, patting Alexei’s outstretched hand.

Seeing that his despondent air had dissipated, Alexei let out a sigh of relief and grinned. “You can call me Lyosha, don’t I already call you Chyushka?”

They had lived under the same roof for over a month, their temperaments were compatible, and they were good friends, so they should have already moved on to calling each other by nicknames.

For Russians, whether you called friends by diminutives or not implied completely different intimacy levels!

Going with the flow, Zhang Sushang and Alexei threw their arms around each other’s shoulders as they walked into the campus; from behind they looked like two bears¹Specifically, referencing a Chinese cartoon featuring two bears and a logger; see Wikipedia. trespassing in Leningrad State University.

Although, Zhang Sushang was visibly smaller than his companion — with his technical skills as a former professional athlete and significant weight loss regimen, he had gone from 180 kg to 168 kg and now looked much smaller.

But frankly, although there was still quite a bit of fat on his waist, many 1.8m tall boys in the 21st century weighed this much.

Any orientation process was more or less the same in any era. Those who lived in dormitories would arrive a few days in advance to put away their luggage, go through the admission procedures, then everyone gathered in their classrooms on the first day of school, the professor said a few words, and people got to know each other.

Except for stepping foot into the classroom, Alexei had already accompanied Zhang Sushang to do everything else, including a tour of the campus.

Compared with the university towns of later generations which could easily hold tens of thousands of people, today’s Leningrad State University wasn’t particularly large despite being the top university of the Soviet Union. They only needed a couple days to know it well.

Thus he declined Alexei’s offer to take him to his classroom, and found his way there himself.

Despite his height, Zhang Sushang still shamelessly sat next to a window in the front rows of the room. His father had told him before that it didn’t matter for other subjects, but when studying medicine, he had to sit somewhere close to the professor, so that he could see any dissections clearly.

Sitting behind him was a young man with black hair and blue eyes, who had his attention on a book. Sunlight filtering through his eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheeks.

Zhang Sushang turned around and waved at him. “Good morning, my name is Zhang Sushang, you are?”

“Susan?” The young man looked up and examined Zhang Sushang from head to toe.

Leningrad State University began accepting female students in the 19th century, and in addition, they had the world’s first female dean of the Faculty of Science²The IRL university doesn’t have a Faculty of Science (it’s split into faculties of biology, chemistry etc. instead) and I can’t find anything about female deans, first or otherwise as well as multiple female professors. They could be said to be a pioneer in improving access to higher education for women in the Soviet Union. This foreign student looked fair and tender, had youthful facial features, and wore a thick coat due to the weather, so it was hard to tell their gender — could they be a girl who accidentally walked into the wrong classroom?

Zhang Sushang quickly corrected him. “It’s Sushang, not Susan, you can also call me Chyushka. What’s your name?”

This person smiled as he spoke and seemed exceedingly friendly. The one sitting in the back row was silent for a few seconds but still introduced himself. “Danil Valeryevich Terniuk.”

Despite being in Russia for so long, the only person whose full name he remembered was Alexei — Alexei Andreevich Shubin.

By the way, before the 19th century, many lower-class people in Russian did not have surnames. When everyone gradually began to have surnames, they simply used the familiar objects around them.³This is how we get surnames like Smith (as in blacksmith) or Thatcher in English

For example, ‘Shubin’ was derived from the Russian word for fur coat — one of Alexei’s ancestors must have been very good at making fur coats.

Obviously, it wasn’t the most polite thing to call people by their first names when they just met, it being much more reasonable to call each other by their surnames, however Danil didn’t argue with this foreigner in favour of lowering his head to keep reading.

Zhang Sushang wasn’t the only foreigner. After a while, a thin young man wearing a felt hat with a strong Northeastern style ran in.

He looked around, as if he was searching for someone, before his gaze fell on Zhang Sushang and his face went from befuddlement to confusion to distress, then he rushed over.

“Qiupu, thank all the gods that you’re here, I knew you wouldn’t desert us!”

His voice wasn’t very loud due to being in a public space. Qiupu was this body’s courtesy name.

After thinking a bit, Zhang Sushang called out the young man’s name. “Jinghu.”

This Jiang Jinghu attended the same high school as the original goods, though not the same class. They weren’t very close, but did exchange letters and share a meal before leaving the country because among the four who came to study in Russia, they shared a hometown.

Jiang Jinghu, at sixteen years old, was the youngest of the four exchange students and couldn’t speak Russian fluently. However he had the passion, the support of his family, and the fact that his family ran the best pharmacy in the city; he was the most enthusiastic of the exchange students and was the first to be prepared to go.

In contrast, the original goods was the son of a landlord, for whom his family had even arranged a child bride. When he expressed an interest in travelling to Russia, he was beaten twenty times with a board and disowned; if it weren’t for his already-married sister who stuffed him with a little money on the eve of his departure, he wouldn’t even have been able to reach St. Petersburg.

Side note: as far as the beating was concerned, if the original body’s layers of fat wasn’t enough or his defence slightly weaker, Zhang Sushang suspected that he wouldn’t have been able to last until he transmigrated over.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Jiang Jinghu sat next to Zhang Sushang while looking at him in distress. “Gods, why are you so thin? It was already so hard for Wu Yeming, Li Yuan, and I to come here together, but you were by yourself, it must’ve been even worse. How’ve you been?”

Zhang Sushang warmed at his concerned expression. “The university doesn’t have enough dormitories, so they arranged for me to homestay with one of our seniors. He’s really good, he looks after me a lot and we’re already friends. You don’t have to worry so much, I’m doing pretty well.”

“But you’re so thin now!” Jiang Jinghu refused to believe it, he only needed to see how his old classmate’s belly was only a third of its previous size to know that he was trying to be strong. Although he himself wasn’t so well off, he decided to buy a few more meal tickets for Zhang Sushang tomorrow.

He also had to sneak it to him secretly, he thought.

They chatted for a while and Zhang Sushang learned that Jiang Jinghu, Wu Yeming, and Li Yuan who had come before him had all moved into the dormitories. Jiang Jinghu also studied medicine, same as him, while Wu Yeming studied engineering and Li Yuan studied chemistry; and even Jiang Jinghu, who had the wealthiest background among them, found a job sweeping the dormitories to save a little money.

As long as these people finished their studies and returned to their home country, they would be talents worth their weight in gold.

As Zhang Sushang chatted, he gradually felt a little guilty, feeling that his ideological awareness wasn’t nearly as good as these students who really risked everything to go to a foreign country.

His biggest goal was only to live to 90 years old – which, although it sounded grand, had nothing on fighting for the country. Zhang Sushang had also thought that if he wanted to help people in the future, the prerequisite was that he had the ability to do so.

Alexei’s encouragement should be directed towards these people instead.

Right then, an old man with curly grey hair and a neat beard walked in, wearing a green coat and a serious expression. He opened a book and uttered a string of rapid Russian words.

Jiang Jinghu, still unused to the language’s tongue trills, frowned as he listened then tugged on Zhang Sushang’s sleeve. “Qiupu, do you know what he’s saying?”

“Professor Yevgeny is the dean of the Facility of Medicine and will be our principal supervisor for the next few years, besides the rector,” Zhang Sushang translated.

Jiang Jinghu nodded rapidly. “I see I see. Hey, your Russian is really good!”

“I’m good at languages,” he replied shyly.

Before he time travelled, when he trained in Russia, it only took him one year to get his reading and writing skills high enough that he was able to write his own short stories in Russian. He didn’t need subtitles when watching Japanese anime either.

Hearing this, Jiang Jinghu was clearly jealous. “That’s amazing, none of us are that good at Russian yet so everything is hard to do. Before we came, Li Yuan said that he wanted to translate all the chemistry books here into Chinese and take them home — recently, he’s staying up all night studying children’s textbooks.”

It wasn’t that industries within China weren’t developed, but that they still weren’t as advanced as in other countries. They wanted to bring more knowledge home.

“But it doesn’t matter,” Jiang Jinghu said, clenching his fist, “we can always learn more as long as we work hard.”

Zhang Sushang’s heart moved at his words, but just as he was about to reply, he felt a tap on his back. “Can you guys stop? The professor is about to look over here,” Danil whispered from behind them.

He didn’t speak very quickly so Jiang Jinghu could also understand him. The two of them shut their mouths and obediently looked towards the podium, where, as expected, they met Professor Yevgeny’s cold green eyes.

Zhang Sushang shuddered. No matter what era, teachers all had intimidating glares.

“Now I will start calling names. When you hear yours, stand up and let everyone get to know you,” Yevgeny said slowly.

Yet by the time the class was finished, Zhang Sushang could only match names to faces for Danil and Jiang Jinghu. On a related note, Western countries had a high rate of duplicate names, which was especially obvious this time for some reason. In their class alone there were three Sergeis and four Ivans, so when calling them they had to be distinguished by their patronymics.

Not to mention Zhang Sushang, even the other students had issues remembering their names.

---

< Previous | Table of Contents | Next >

• 1
  Specifically, referencing a Chinese cartoon featuring two bears and a logger; see Wikipedia.
• 2
  The IRL university doesn’t have a Faculty of Science (it’s split into faculties of biology, chemistry etc. instead) and I can’t find anything about female deans, first or otherwise
• 3
  This is how we get surnames like Smith (as in blacksmith) or Thatcher in English

< Previous | Table of Contents | Next >

As soon as Zhang Sushang and Alexei sent the manuscript off, they went home to eat, drink, and sleep. Zhang Sushang, still unused to the low temperatures here, seriously considered improving his living conditions now that he had a little money on hand.

So he wanted to buy a thicker quilt on the way home, only to be stopped by Alexei.

“Buying a quilt isn’t cost-effective, just get fabric and some cotton, and I’ll make you one. Don’t worry, I can do it very quickly.”

As soon as Zhang Sushang heard about the price difference between buying and making a quilt, he accepted Alexei’s kindness, thinking that it didn’t matter if Alexei was slow to make it, at worst he would just endure it for a few more days. Young people had good enough thermoregulation to survive it.

With this in mind, Zhang Sushang added a few more pieces of wood to the fire. When the melted snow-water bubbled, he poured half into a basin and mixed it with cold water, then stuck his feet inside.

“Whew…” he hummed happily as he narrowed his eyes in enjoyment.

He had been used to showering daily while in the 21st century. Especially in his third year of high school, when he was studying hard at his desk every day which put a lot of pressure on his neck and shoulders, he would rub the area with hot water before bed. Once his muscles relaxed, he would lie on the bed and apply soothing balm to his temples, allowing him to sleep soundly.

It was no longer possible to enjoy such a thing, so Zhang Sushang’s greatest pleasure now was to soak his feet. Fortunately, his flatmate was a good person who didn’t mind him wasting firewood.

Of course Alexei didn’t mind — the happiness of seeing a basin of warm water waiting for him every morning already made him very satisfied. He no longer needed to worry about his teeth going sore from the cold when he was washing up, and he had hot meals to eat both morning and night; his heart was full of gratitude towards his flatmate, so what if they used a little more firewood or charcoal?

When Zhang Sushang was halfway through his soak, he saw Alexei approaching with his only coat in hand.

“Chyushka, nights are cold, you can cover yourself with this until the quilt is ready.” Seeing Zhang Sushang turn to him in surprise, Alexei tilted his head in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Zhang Sushang stammered out, “N-No, it’s nothing, I’m just grateful. Do you want to, uh, soak your feet with me? The water’s still hot.”

“Okay.”

Alexei, following his example, placed his coat on the table, moved a stool next to Zhang Sushang, then placed his much larger feet next to Zhang Sushang’s, immediately taking up two-thirds of the basin.

Zhang Sushang sniffed and sighed internally.

Asians, especially East Asians, had the least body odour. This was caused not only by differences in diet, but also because when their ancestors migrated from the tropics to more temperate regions, their genes mutated to cope with the colder temperatures. Ever since then, their bodies evolved to be better at preserving heat and their sweat glands diminished, thus reducing body odour.

For Caucasians, even if they washed every day they would still have smells wafting off them — this was probably the reason for the popularity of perfumes in the West. Alexei was relatively more hygienic. Although his frequency of showering and washing clothes wasn’t any higher than average, he would towel himself off with cold water every morning, and he was the least smelly person Zhang Sushang had ever met in Russia.

Otherwise he wouldn’t be willing to soak their feet together.

Anyone who did it knew that soaking feet was a pleasure, else foot massage parlours wouldn’t be able to open everywhere in later generations. And although the main focus of these businesses was foot massage, some also did shoulder massage, back massage, head massage, ear picking, and more. When Zhang Sushang added more hot water to the basin, a happy flush appeared on Alexei’s cheeks.

Looking down, he pointed at Zhang Sushang’s feet in surprise. “Chyushka, look, your second and third toes are longer than your big toe.”

“Yeah,” Zhang Sushang said as he glanced down as well.

He had Roman feet both before and after his time travel. According to his dad, this meant that he was naturally suited for ballet.

He looked at Alexei’s feet. “Yours has only the second toes longer than your big toe.” Typical Greek feet.

“Yes, my parents’ feet don’t look like this,” he said, nodding seriously. As he spoke, he smiled again. “You’re the first person I’ve met who’s willing to talk about this with me. My parents can’t be bothered, they find it boring.”

“What’s so boring about this? It’s normal to think about your own body,” Zhang Sushang said as he poured a cup of warm water and handed it over. The two simultaneously raised their steaming cups and took a sip, warming themselves in the midst of winter.

No, it was currently March. Even if the trees lining the streets were still bare and without a sliver of green, it could be said to be spring already.

Zhang Sushang, once he wiped his feet dry, put on the cotton socks and shoes that had been warmed by the stove, moved to a taller stool, and lifted his heels, beginning to do seated calf raises. The main reason was that he felt that this body wasn’t only fat, it had strong gastrocnemius muscles yet weak soleus muscles, which made his calves look particularly thick.

It was unacceptable.

While he exercised his legs, he flipped open his textbook and silently memorised it. As a medical student, memorisation and examinations were something that would accompany him for the rest of his life.

Alexei, upon coming back from pouring out the foot-washing water, blinked at Zhang Sushang’s behaviour. “You’re trying to lose weight again?”

“Yeah, for my calves,” Zhang Sushang replied.

After seeing Zhang Sushang do a scorpion walk in his room, that is, being on the ground on all fours and lifting his right leg upwards like a scorpion’s tail before moving forward using his two arms and left leg, Alexei had become very calm.

My flatmate always has countless weird weight loss tricks, he thought.

In the end he still got used to the life of having strange things happen in his home.

Near Nevsky Prospect,¹The main street of St. Petersburg, named for the monastery which stands at its eastern end the editorial office of the St. Petersburg Morning Post was about to close for the day when Igor brought in a bag from the mailroom. It contained many envelopes, all of which were manuscripts received by the Morning Post.

As everyone knew, editors read manuscripts like prospectors searching for gold in the mountains — sometimes they may not be able to find even a piece of coal after digging for months on end, and other times they were only in the mountains for a few days before waking up to a gold vein next to them. It all depended on luck.

Igor was one of the ones who hadn’t found even a bit of coal since the beginning of the year, which made him very envious as he watched the other editors bring back manuscripts from their authors. The busiest person there was the chief editor, who had three authors, each responsible for a Weekly Story on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Just chasing them for updates every week made him lose a bunch of hair.

Weekly Story was the flagship column of St Petersburg Morning Post; from Monday to Sunday, one interesting story from different authors would be published each day, usually in the form of long serials.

O Lord, your humble disciple Igor begs you, please shine Your light upon me, let me encounter a good story as well.

Just then, Chief Editor Iosif entered the room with a dark face. He took off his hat and tossed it on the table, making everyone in the office jump.

“What happened?” Deputy Chief Editor Grigory asked.

Iosif thumped the table. “That damn Pyotr, he promised to give me the first instalment of a new series today, but yesterday he got into a drunken brawl and he got both his hands broken, with not a word written! We’ve got nothing for Thursday!”

Silence fell in the office as several editors had the sudden urge to go beat up Pyotr.

After a while, a young junior editor asked, “What should we do now?”

Although they ran a daily newspaper, the content had to be prepared several days in advance. Anything to be published in the following Thursday’s newspaper, for example, had to be ready and submitted to the print office by Monday.

“We can only use a short story to temporarily fill in the gap,” Grigory answered seriously.

However, the manuscripts from their existing authors already had set destinations, with every page’s layout already decided. If they selected one of those, wouldn’t it be just tearing down the east wall to prop up the west wall, and make another hole to fix?

Igor abruptly knocked on the table, and amid everyone’s astonishment, he shot to his feet and waved the white paper in his hand.

“Chief Editor, I have a good one here! Please come take a look at this A Donkey on the Railway, I’m sure that it’s better than anything we’ve received since January!”

Igor was usually one of the quieter ones in the office who buried himself in work. This was the first time he spoke so loudly, which attracted everyone’s attention and they all crowded around him to see what this strangely-named story was about.

The manuscript wasn’t very thick, only a few pages. If when people were reading the first page they jostled and bickered for space, then by the time they reached the second page, the third page, the office was completely silent except for protests when someone flipped a page too early.

As soon as they finished reading, everyone burst into discussions.

“I didn’t expect the murderer to be the victim’s father, their emotional entanglement is so complicated.”

“Although it wasn’t a long novel, I feel like I just watched a drama spanning three generations.”

The process of solving the crime in this detective novel wasn’t overly complicated, yet it was filled with dog blood and gave the audience a feeling of satisfaction and catharsis. The protagonists also had appealing personalities, causing everyone to laugh, and after they laughed enough they could scold the victim together with the two protagonists.

But after the scolding, they had a thought-provoking exchange.

“By now, we know that the victim wasn’t a good man and the perpetrator also had his difficulties; when the law has no way to adequately punish criminals and seek justice for the innocent, such that the innocent must take up arms, I feel extremely sad because they will pay for it for the rest of their lives.”

Yet his partner Vasily replied, “But a crime is a crime, it will always be wrong.”

Chief Editor Iosif picked up these few sheets of paper and was quiet for a while. Deputy Chief Editor Grigory looked at him hopefully. “The quality of this detective novel is very high. If we use this as Thursday’s Weekly Story, I think it won’t do any worse than our usual.”

“You’re right,” Iosif nodded slowly.

Igor’s eyes lit up. “Then I’ll go mail the author his royalties now?” he asked cheerfully. “He lives on Vasilyevsky Island, maybe he’s a professor or student at Leningrad University. If we send it now he’ll receive it very soon.”

Iosif pondered for a moment then shook his head. “No, since he’s also in the city, we may as well meet him directly.” This chief editor was very decisive. “The ending of A Donkey on the Railway clearly indicates a continuation — I think this is only the introduction to a longer series. If possible, I’d like to read any subsequent manuscripts as well.”

If this author ‘Chyushka’ had stable writing skills and his future stories were of the same quality as A Donkey on the Railway, they could definitely arrange a long-term partnership!

Iosif was fed up with Pyotr’s alcoholism. He was eager to find someone who was at the same level as that guy yet wouldn’t delay or procrastinate work to take over Pyotr’s column, and Chyushka gave him hope.

He reached out and Igor obligingly handed over the envelope, which had the author’s address on it: Apartment 4, Floor 1, 338 Universitetskaya Embankment, St. Petersburg.

At this time, the Universitetskaya Embankment did not have the prosperity and beauty of later generations but was only a place where many students rented residences, and many small shops were also located there due to its close proximity to Leningrad State University.

Leningrad State University was one of the top education institutes in the Soviet Union, anyone who could study or teach there were all learned people. “I remember that Leningrad University’s term starts tomorrow?” Chief Editor Iosif frowned.

That’s right, the next day was the first day of study for Leningrad State University. In order to get Zhang Sushang there on time, Alexei did not attack the front door after waking up for once, and instead ran to knock on Zhang Sushang’s door.

“Chyushka, Chyushka! Get up!”

The window opened with a creak and Zhang Sushang climbed in, wearing a coat. “Stop shouting, I’m up!”

With a coat borrowed from Alexei, Zhang Sushang, feeling like he had a warmth buff, went outside to do his exercises today.

It was just that the door was stuck tight and he couldn’t open it by himself, so he could only leave by the window.

---

Translator:
What do you think of our MC’s first novel? Ilya is more inclined to a nuanced view, I feel, while Vasily is more of a ‘cool motive, still murder’ kind of person.

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• 1
  The main street of St. Petersburg, named for the monastery which stands at its eastern end

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After making the vegetable pancakes, all kitchen duties were handed over to Zhang Sushang which he was very happy about, mainly because neither of them wanted to eat any more boiled potatoes.

After cleaning up an entire floor of the library, Alexei sat at a remote table and opened his lunchbox. Inside were several slices of lieba which sandwiched sour shredded potato and boiled radish slices.

As the saying went, poor people were vegetarians. Zhang Sushang had heard the elders in his family say that they couldn’t afford meat when they were young and even an occasional piece of tofu was a luxury, their daily meals usually consisting of fruit and vegetables. Now that he had to live like this himself, he finally understood just how bad it was; in contrast, Alexei liked it quite a lot.

He had never eaten such flavourful food before, it was mouthwatering.

As Alexei happily took a bite, his senior Mikhail approached with a few bottles. “Here, the things you wanted. All our floor’s empty glass bottles are here.”

Food was very precious these days and luxuries like alcohol were even rarer. If it weren’t for having some extra savings, Mikhail wouldn’t even be able to afford these few bottles.

“I’ve finished calculating the data you gave me,” Alexei said in thanks.

Mikhail took his notebook and immediately threw himself into research, and after a while, he patted his junior’s shoulder in admiration. “You really should come over to our side. Although fundamental research¹A type of scientific research aimed at improving theories for better understanding & prediction of phenomena; contrasts with applied research. is important, it’s too hard to get results and there’s barely any funding.”

“I know about your project,” Alexei said as he bit into a piece of lieba, “I predict that it will only see results in twenty years at the least. Since that’s the case, I might as well do fundamental research.”

Anyways, his goal was to stay in the university and become a lecturer; if that didn’t work out then he would be a high school teacher. As for the research group Mikhail was part of, although its principal theory was developed back in 1914, Alexei truly wasn’t interested.

Mikhail sighed. “Fine, I’ll look forward to the day that you change your mind.”

As he said this, he stuffed a piece of pork from his own lunchbox into Alexei’s then forked a piece of his junior’s lieba and some potato strips into his mouth. Half a beat later, his eyes widened.

“Lord above, this is so good! Where did you buy it?”

Alexei lowered his head and lazily flipped through a textbook that was meant for someone who had been in university for much longer than him. “My flatmate made it.”

Being able to have a flatmate with good cooking skills was the best thing that happened to Alexei since the year began. Moreover, this flatmate wouldn’t get into drunken fights, could get up early in the morning to bash the door open together with him, and didn’t have much body odour, so the house was unlikely to stink in summer. Alexei was very satisfied.

His last flatmate was a troublemaker who had finally been forced to drop out after getting into a fight at the end of the previous semester. Before Zhang Sushang had come, Alexei had been ready to deal with another troublesome one, but Zhang Sushang turned out to bring a pile of benefits with him!

He finally had the peace to concentrate on his studies. And as the school term approached, Chyushka had begun reading through his textbooks; he didn’t know if his flatmate had something like dyslexia, he should help him when he went back.

Zhang Sushang’s Russian was very good — not only did he not have dyslexia, he was gearing up to make a fortune.

What the St. Petersburg Morning Post wanted was something to attract an audience. After looking through the requirements, Zhang Sushang concluded that they wanted a story that would retain readers and leave them hungry for more; further analysis revealed that the plot should be interesting and the endings should have sequel hooks or cliffhangers.

Didn’t mystery novels perfectly fulfil all these?

From the mid-19th century when Edgar Allen Poe pioneered the detective novels’ plotline to the 20th century when the three household name authors Agatha Christie, Ellery Queen, and John Dickson Carr flourished, the appeal of detective novels has never faltered even well into the 21st century. 

Zhang Sushang was currently living in the 1920s, which was a time of many possibilities. He didn’t ask to be wildly successful, but he had his own ideas.

Alexei placed Zhang Sushang’s snow-soaked shoes next to the stove to dry. When he turned, he saw his flatmate spread out pen and paper, then bite at his pen, as if thinking about something.

Since he was submitting this story to a Soviet newspaper, the protagonist should naturally be someone from the local area. After rummaging through his mind, Zhang Sushang made up his mind and set the protagonist’s name as Ilya.

After burying his mother’s body, in order to fulfil her last wish and to find his father who had been missing for many years, Ilya left the Ural Mountains on a donkey called Boris. He rode for a day and a night before arriving at Yekaterinburg’s train station, and his destination was St. Petersburg.

The train was extremely crowded. Ilya followed his ticket number to his seat and said to the man sitting there, “Sir, this is my seat.”

The man raised his head, revealing a face as exquisite as a rose; he rose to his feet, revealing a body as broad and strong as two Ilyas. “No, this is my seat,” he replied arrogantly.

The above was the first meeting between the protagonist, Ilya, and his partner, Vasily. The two started talking because of a seat — Ilya wanted to seize the seat by force, but was too afraid of Vasily’s strong muscles.

Zhang Sushang made sure to write in detail here, mainly by describing how Vasily’s chest muscles bulged, how thick his arms were, and how intimidating his figure was.

After a ‘friendly’ conversation to establish Ilya as a coward and Vasily as a beautiful yet strong person, Vasily discovered that he had read the numbers on his ticket wrong and apologised to Ilya. Their argument had also attracted a whole bunch of spectators.

Then a donkey’s bray and a woman’s scream rang out simultaneously.

The case had arrived.

After writing up to here, Zhang Sushang felt that his buttocks were a little sore from sitting too long, so he got up and did a few stretches. This body’s flexibility wasn’t bad, especially its waist. He thought that if he kept stretching for a few more months, he could try to do the splits.

But a backbend was a possibility right now.

Zhang Sushang breathed out, slowly leaned back, and once he reached a suitable angle, placed both hands on the floor. There wasn’t any discomfort at all except for a sense of stretching in his waist and abdomen muscles.

One had to keep in mind that this body didn’t practise dance since childhood as his original body did — this flexibility was all natural. And it was at the peak of flexibility for males, at that. Zhang Sushang, still in his contorted posture, thought that if this guy was born a hundred years in the future and his granduncle saw this talent, he would definitely be dragged away to learn how to do a Biellmann spin.²One of the most iconic figure skating moves, which few men have achieved, in which the skater’s body forms a teardrop shape; see Wikipedia.

With that in mind, he began ‘walking’ forward on all fours. Although the movement looked strange, it was an effective way to train his posterior chain muscles.

All the muscles on the back of the body — the erector spinae and latissimus dorsi along his spine, and the gluteus muscles, hamstrings, and calf muscles of his legs — were part of the posterior chain, and exercising these could provide better protection for his spine and improve control over movements of his neck, as well as preventing bad posture such as sagging shoulders or a hunched back.

Zhang Sushang, having started as a figure skater, had received specialised posture training since he was four years old. His granduncle was a master at helping athletes gain muscles so his skill at bringing out posterior chain muscles was also unparalleled.

He became tired after exercising for a while. But just as he was getting up, he heard a crash. A pile of firewood lay on the floor while Alexei stared at him with obvious shock, as if he could rush out the door in the next second.

As soon as he stepped through the door he saw someone crawling on the floor in a strange posture. Slavs were humans too, they also felt fear.

Zhang Sushang: “Alexei, I can explain!”

“I-Is this another of your ways to lose weight?” Alexei asked, trembling.

It was.

Zhang Sushang rolled to his feet and helped the big bear who was scared silly to pick up the firewood, then they lit the stove again. Zhang Sushang squatted and said, “When I was making the pancakes a few of them had some lard flakes inside. They must be very tasty after frying, why don’t you have all of them?”

“No need, we’ll split them equally,” Alexei said blankly.

He really is a good flatmate.

Zhang Sushang carefully brushed the pan with a thin layer of oil then placed the pancake dough on the sides to let them slowly cook. This kind of vegetable pancake actually had a very thick texture, so it was good that the fillings inside were tasty.

His chopping skills were very good, and although oil was regarded as an unhealthy food in the future, it made food delicious.

Two young men crouched next to the stove as they ate every pancake crumb they could get their hands on, then drank hot water afterwards to wash it all down. Zhang Sushang casually handed what he had just written to Alexei.

“Help me take a look,” he said, then walked off to write the rest.

Alexei took the papers and was confused at first, then after reading a bit he became interested. “Is it a novel?”

Zhang Sushang didn’t even look up as he replied, “Yeah, a detective novel.”

“Ilya is the detective? He doesn’t seem very brave,” Alexei said.

“There are way too many brave detectives, isn’t it interesting to have a coward for a change? It’s fine as long as he doesn’t drop the ball at critical moments.”

Didn’t he also arrange a brawny bodyguard for him in the form of Vasily? Nothing much could go wrong.

“Then what’s going to happen next?” Alexei asked curiously.

“Wait a bit.”

Zhang Sushang panted through another two hundred jumping jacks and fifty burpees before sitting down again.

This story that Zhang Sushang named A Donkey on the Railway was a typical short story written in concise words, and was the culmination of the lessons learnt from Arthur Conan Doyle’s dozen rejected manuscripts before his iconic A Study in Scarlet; the rejections weren’t because his story wasn’t exciting, but because the word count was too high for serialisation, yet too low for a one-time publication…

Zhang Sushang definitely wanted his story to be continuously published, but if it wasn’t picked up, earning a small sum for the one article wasn’t bad either. Thus he should keep the length under control, and the plot shouldn’t be too complicated.

The entire case could be summed up as a murder out of love. The victim had an extramarital affair. Detective Ilya looked at the corpse and the crime scene with trembling eyes, and at first he suspected the wife — after all, in later generations police would always investigate the victim’s close relations first when there was a crime. If a husband was harmed they would look at the wife, and if a wife was harmed they would look at the husband. However, in the end this was not the case.

The perpetrator was the victim’s father — because the victim’s father had also been cuckolded earlier in life, he had always suspected that the victim wasn’t his own child, and he deeply resented the victim’s cheating behaviour.

Just looking at the case developments, it was quite good for this era but could only be considered above average for future generations; however, this short story was just an introduction to Detective Ilya and his brilliant punchlines. It was enough for it to set up Ilya and Vasily’s characters.

At the very least, Alexei couldn’t stop laughing at Ilya and Vasily’s bickering as they investigated the case. Zhang Sushang concluded that he didn’t know how good this story was, but at least people could relax while reading it.

At the end, when the murderer’s identity was revealed, the murderer angrily rushed at Detective Ilya but was stopped with a single punch from Vasily. After the train reached the station, the two of them and a bunch of enthusiastic volunteers dragged the murderer to a police station, then they exchanged contact information.

Ilya led his donkey to the residence he had arranged in advance. Unexpectedly, three days later, Vasily knocked on his door and asked for his help in investigating another case.

Done, the sequel hook is set.

Zhang Sushang stretched, wrote out a copy of the story, then went out with Alexei to buy bread for dinner and mailed the letter on the way.

While affixing the stamps, Zhang Sushang muttered, “I don’t know if this story can be published.”

“Of course it can, this is the most interesting thing I’ve read all year!” Alexei said firmly, looking at him. “Chyushka, you’re a genius.”

The praise was very embarrassing for Zhang Sushang to hear. He shook his head. “No no no, I haven’t done my best yet.”

---

Translator:
Extra update tomorrow to celebrate Lunar New Year!

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• 1
  A type of scientific research aimed at improving theories for better understanding & prediction of phenomena; contrasts with applied research.
• 2
  One of the most iconic figure skating moves, which few men have achieved, in which the skater’s body forms a teardrop shape; see Wikipedia.

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Potatoes and salt particles and nothing else — not even chopped green onions or star anise — tumbled within an old iron pot, making up a soup so thin that it may make people cry.

People had once researched the history of food in Russia. Roasted quail, roasted vegetables, and pickled cabbage became popular around 1916, but these were only available to rich people. For ordinary folk, it was already pretty good if they could eat potatoes. The economy was on the rise, but for poor students like them, things like lemon-broiled trout were still beyond their reach.

Alexei’s eyes showed obvious hunger as he dragged a spoon through his soup. Although he had already eaten potatoes for a month, it was hard to disdain any food when he had only been able to be 80% full at best during that time.

He carefully fished out the cooked potatoes and placed them on a separate plate.

They had eaten potatoes for a month straight. Alexei was currently preparing their breakfast, and anything left over would be their lunch.

After Zhang Sushang finished two hundred jumping jacks and fifty burpees, he was panting for air and covered in sweat. This body’s fitness was too poor, if his granduncle saw it, he would definitely force him to run ten kilometres every day to build up strength. Jogging wasn’t very intense and was good for practising endurance, it was one of the best aerobic exercises out there.

It was a pity that St. Petersburg in February was truly too inhospitable for outdoor exercise. With the weather cold enough to freeze a basin of water into ice, it would only be self-torture to jump around out there.

Living to ninety years old was such a difficult task, Zhang Sushang had no desire to let himself get sick.

When he finally regained his breath, Zhang Sushang took advantage of the heat still running through his body to fetch water from the well behind the house and clean the doors, windows, tables, and floor with a rag. Since one of his adoptive fathers had a career in medicine, his hygiene habits had always been very good. Now that he lived and ate at another’s expense, it didn’t make any sense to not even do a little housework.

When Alexei turned around, he saw the Chinese boy who was two years younger than him on the ground with his butt sticking out, vigorously fighting against the floor. “Chyushka, come eat,” he called.

Zhang Sushang responded and walked to the dining table. Upon seeing a lonely potato on the plate, he rolled up his sleeves.

“Wait, Alexei, I have something good.”

Under Alexei’s confused gaze, he ran to his room and came back with a small jar. “Is this sauerkraut?” he asked, pleasantly surprised.

Zhang Sushang: “That’s right!”

Sauerkraut was an important commodity in Russia during winter. Russian style pickled vegetables were a big hit in the world of fermented foods, among which pickles were an important part of the cuisine.

Yesterday, Zhang Sushang had used his profits from selling scrap to buy a small jar of sauerkraut from the market. It wasn’t that he couldn’t buy more — after all, he also had his salary from cleaning the library — but that if he wanted to store a large amount of sauerkraut at home, it was more cost-effective to do it himself.

During the meal, he proposed the idea of making sauerkraut at home, but Alexei hesitated. “I don’t know how,” he said.

Zhang Sushang: “I know!”

His father was very good at cooking, his grandparents even had a history in kitchens; although he wasn’t good enough to be a chef, he had at least learned a few skills. Paocai, kimchi, or sauerkraut, none of them were a problem!

Alexei’s joy was obvious. He cheered, jumped up, and cleared away the dishes, for once as lively as any other twenty year old young man.

“Chyushka, you should’ve told me you know how to pickle vegetables earlier! I’m fed up with only having potatoes to eat!” he said, happily patting Zhang Sushang’s shoulder as they left the house.

Zhang Sushang was once again almost knocked to the ground. “Then why didn’t you do it before?”

Alexei: “I didn’t know how!”

The two went out together. Zhang Sushang was still covered in a thin layer of sweat and couldn’t help but sneeze when the wind blew around them. Alexei gave him a look, then unwound his own scarf and wrapped it around his neck a few times.

“Chyushka, you don’t have enough warm clothes, you even only have two pairs of socks.”

He rubbed his nose with a grimace. “Don’t remind me, I’ve washed those socks so many times they’re going hard.”

Someone not so particular about things might wear a pair of socks for three or four days, then turn them inside out and wear them for another three or four days, but Zhang Sushang couldn’t bring himself to do this. He was a figure skater. Once he stuck his feet into a pair of skates, he might practise for the whole day. If he didn’t change socks every day, his feet would stink to high heaven like fermented fish or stinky tofu. His habit of often changing socks persisted even now, with him unable to go longer than two days with the same pair of socks no matter how much he tried to endure it.

Men who loved sports couldn’t not care about cleanliness, otherwise just their body odour would be enough to smother people a dozen metres away.

In Alexei’s opinion, this housemate of his had many things he was fussy about. As for himself, he had three pairs of socks which he washed every three days. He glanced at Chyushka’s cotton socks which were hung indoors, one of which had a hole.

The snow had melted a little, causing it to be rather slippery to walk on. Zhang Sushang’s cotton-soled shoes were unable to withstand it — as he walked, they became soaked through and he slipped as he walked, but he didn’t complain. The snow on the road eventually became stained brown and they knew that they were approaching somewhere with many people.

Civil war in the early years of the Soviet Union had caused hyperinflation to the point that banknotes of 100,000 rubles came into existence. The situation had since stabilised, and numbers on banknotes began to shrink as the nation entered a period of growth.

Zhang Sushang used six rubles to buy two bags of white radishes. He originally wanted to haggle more, but the old man running the stall looked stronger than a bear and the price was already so low that he might have picked up his hoe and hit him over the head if he did. Even if he had a 1.9m tall housemate next to him, he didn’t dare to push it.

Little did he know that the gaze coming from Alexei had already changed to admiration — he had never bought such cheap radishes before!

They moved on and bought salt. The materials they had on hand were limited and it wasn’t the season for cucumbers, it was enough to some make pickled radishes. Their rented house had only a metre-tall water tank but there was a well behind the house, so they didn’t have a pressing need for storing water.

Finally, Zhang Sushang bought some flour and a piece of white lard. The latter was the most expensive purchase they made that day, and Zhang Sushang cherished it so much that he handed it to his housemate.

“Protect it well, this is our protein for the next month.”

Alexei held the radishes with one hand and put the lard into his coat with the other. “I will guard it with my life,” he replied seriously.

Watching Zhang Sushang gasp for his life as he hauled a bulging sack through the snow, Alexei silently moved to walk in front of him. Having someone to block the wind made things better for Zhang Sushang. When he looked up and saw Alexei’s broad figure, his nose grew hot.

Dad, I miss you.

When the two returned home, they fetched more water because the first step of pickling vegetables was to wash them. Alexei, shivering, ushered Zhang Sushang inside to light the fire while he drew the water himself. When they were done, they sat on hard benches and scrubbed the radishes clean.

In this crappy time period, if someone wanted to improve their diet without spending an obscene amount of money, they had to do things themselves. If Zhang Sushang wanted to relive the days when he could have countless delicacies delivered to his door with the touch of a button, he might have to live for over a hundred years.

Psh, who would wait for that long just for pickled radishes? He’ll make it himself!

When it came to making brine, Alexei didn’t know what to do, so he pulled him away and said, “Let me do the rest of it, you go out and help me buy a newspaper, I forgot to earlier.”

They had never subscribed to newspapers before — if they wanted to read something, they would look through the library’s old newspapers or books, which were more than enough for two young men.

Alexei grunted as money was stuffed into his hand. As he went out the door, he heard Chyushka yell from behind him, “You can buy a few more booklets while you’re at it.”

What’s Chyushka reading tabloids for? There were so many medical books in the library, not to mention other textbooks, yet those still weren’t enough for him to study?

Although confused, Alexei bought them as requested. Looking at the torn socks, he tried to ignore them but eventually couldn’t take it and, glancing at his housemate who was rubbing salt over the radishes, he quietly went to his room and took out a box of sewing tools.

Zhang Sushang sealed the vegetables into jars then washed his hands with freezing cold well water. This body belonged to the son of a wealthy man living in the countryside who had lived a delicate life for the past eighteen years and never did an iota of manual labour; he grimaced in pain at the cracks that had formed between his fingers.

“It’d be great if there was Pechoin or Yu Mei Jing¹Both are skincare brands here,” he muttered to himself, then went to make noodles. He’d had more than enough of potatoes, if he didn’t eat something different today his life would no longer have meaning.

They didn’t buy fine flour at the market this time, and Zhang Sushang also couldn’t bear to buy it. Instead they brought back a bag of coarse flour which would usually be used to make bread, the type of hard bread like lieba.²Similar to Russian rye bread and in fact is made specifically to resemble it but using wheat grains instead of rye grains; originates from Northeast China, which has been significantly influenced by Russians

Zhang Sushang really couldn’t get used to it. When the dough was kneaded and resting, he sat and considered the cabbages and radishes they had left over which he could use to make vegetable pancakes.

Picking up the stack of newspapers which Alexei had left on the table, he began reading.

It was fortunate that when he was in Russia learning jumps with Coach Vasily, the man not only taught him figure skating skills but also forced him to learn the Russian language. Zhang Sushang was naturally gifted in languages and his reading and writing skills were much better than the original goods’, so reading Russian newspapers was a piece of cake.

In the corner of a newspaper which had relatively low sales and was only sold in St. Petersburg and its surrounding towns, Zhang Sushang saw what he was looking for.

No matter what era it was, newspapers would always have a section for articles by the public. In a time before online novels, these articles were the best way for literati to make their debut and sell their words and ideas.

This particular newspaper, called the St. Petersburg Morning Post, was currently soliciting stories from ordinary people. There weren’t any specific requirements, only that these stories should be interesting and eye-catching.

Once the article was published, there would be a reward of 20 rubles.

Zhang Sushang: It’s this one!

By now, the dough had rested enough. “Alexei,” he said, looking up at his housemate, “I want to ask you something. I’ve made some noodles and want to fry some vegetable pancakes later, but the pancakes need oil. Can I use your pot to render some lard…”

Before he could finish, the scene before him stunned him into silence.

“You can, what’s the matter?” Alexei replied. Upon following Zhang Sushang’s gaze down and seeing the socks in his hands, he grinned. “Surprised? My dad’s a tailor, I started helping my mum mend her dresses when I was five years old.”

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• 1
  Both are skincare brands
• 2
  Similar to Russian rye bread and in fact is made specifically to resemble it but using wheat grains instead of rye grains; originates from Northeast China, which has been significantly influenced by Russians

< Previous | Table of Contents | Next >

The door had been sealed from the outside by ice and snow. Alexei banged on the door for a few minutes before deciding that the ice had probably been knocked loose enough to try pulling the door open.

Zhang Sushang, seeing his face go red from exertion, silently walked over and helped pull, which finally got the door open.

“Thanks, it would’ve taken at least ten minutes if I had to do it myself,” Alexei said gratefully.

As soon as the door opened, cold air smacked Zhang Sushang in the face and made him shiver. Outside was a field of white, with everything covered in either ice or snow. Even someone from the Northeast like Zhang Sushang thought that the temperature in Russia’s higher latitudes was outrageously low.

Their house had no heater — the only source of warmth was the stove — and to save coal and firewood, they didn’t let it burn throughout the night. If he hadn’t stayed awake all night, with just the cotton jacket he had, he might have woken from cold in the middle of the night.

Seeing his pitiful appearance with teeth chattering from the cold, Alexei handed him an old scarf. “It seems you didn’t get to know this land well before coming, the Soviet Union is cold during February.”

Naturally, Zhang Sushang couldn’t say that he was very familiar with Russia, although the one he knew was the Russia of many years later.

“Chyushka, do you want breakfast?” Alexei asked.

Of course he wanted to eat.

It was a given that two poor university students living in the early 20th century couldn’t afford flour, eggs, or meat. Their meal was brown bread soaked in the reheated potato soup from last night.

As Zhang Sushang ate, he reminisced on the chicken soup that would never enter his stomach — he wasn’t being excessive, his father truly was that good at making soup. Sometimes he would directly use coconut water as the soup base, bamboo, and meat from a freshly slaughtered chicken to make a delicious coconut chicken soup. The soup was both filling and refreshing, drinking it would warm both heart and stomach.

But his best dish was his pork belly and chicken soup, which he would stew until it was thick and opaque, then its surface was sprinkled with white pepper. When they finished eating the pork belly and chicken meat, he would add noodles and sweet potatoes to the broth and cook until the noodles were soft. It tasted amazing when paired with the chicken soup!

The more he thought about it, the hungrier he became, and Zhang Sushang had a big appetite to begin with. He finished a bowl and wanted to eat more, but found that the pot was already empty.

The leftovers weren’t enough for two big men. Zhang Sushang didn’t know Alexei’s background, but he knew that he was also a work-study student.

After breakfast was over, they went out together and walked for almost an hour through the snow before finally arriving at their destination — St. Petersburg’s Vasilyevsky Island, where Leningrad State University was located.

Fortunately, this body’s original owner left him with not only a fatty liver but also high-quality fat in other places, allowing Zhang Sushang to survive the low temperatures of St. Petersburg’s early morning.

This place didn’t have many warm days in a year.

Leningrad State University was the oldest of Russia’s universities, and would later be known as Saint Petersburg State University. Nine of its graduates received the Nobel Prize.¹All true; see Wikipedia.

Grigori Perelman, who would crack the Poincaré conjecture²A mathematical theorem that remained unproven for 100 years until Perelman; see Wikipedia. and win the Fields Medal,³A prize for mathematicians under 40 years old, regarded as one of the highest honours a mathematician can receive, also known as the Nobel Prize of Mathematics; see Wikipedia. also graduated from here, although this man would be born about forty years from now in the 1960s.

For being able to be accepted into this school, Zhang Sushang acknowledged the original goods’ abilities, but he was also someone with one foot in the country’s top university; he didn’t worry that he wouldn’t be able to adapt to a new university.

Wasn’t it just changing his location of study? He was even in a Department of Medicine again.

Leningrad State University wasn’t the institute within Russia that accepted the most Chinese international students. It had only accepted four this year, and of the four, one applied for a scholarship and two others had found work with the assistance of fellow Chinese students at other universities. In this era, it was very common to work as you studied.

Alexei’s job was to clean the library, which was much warmer than outside in the wind. In addition, as long as he kept the place tidy and the books organised, he could freely borrow books. This was a good job.

He brought Zhang Sushang to a table and respectfully called out, “Aleksandr Sergeyevich, this is one of the international students joining the Department of Medicine this year.”

Russian names were made up of three parts: first name, patronymic, and surname. Patronymics could be understood like this: if someone is called Sergey, his son’s patronymic would be Sergeyevich, while his daughter’s patronymic would be Sergeyevna.

When addressing an elder with whom you were already familiar, you used their first name and patronymic together. In contrast, when an elder was addressing a junior, they would use the first name alone.

Professor Aleksandr glanced at Zhang Sushang. “Oh, I know.”

Zhang Sushang walked closer. “Hello Professor, I am Zhang Sushang, you can call me Chyushka.”

The professor looked at the young man for a while and found that he seemed quite strong. With his best student Alexei standing next to him, the two of them looked like two big bears.

He had quite a good impression of the students who came from China. These children were all hard-working people who never slacked off in their studies or work, were very polite to their teachers, and some of them could even drag a big box of translated notes from their year’s study back to their country to disseminate the knowledge. Like firewood, they could burn themselves for their country at any time, without regrets.

Zhang Sushang was the last among this year’s Chinese students to arrive. His companions had also said before that this student’s family wouldn’t allow him to study overseas, so he might not be able to come. Now he had come, but many of the jobs which allowed students to apply were already overwhelmed with applications.

But the professor couldn’t bear to see this child do laundry and hard labour outside. With the help of Alexei’s recommendation, Zhang Sushang managed to get a position that paid 25 rubles a month.

The Soviet Union’s currency consisted of rubles and kopecks, the former being paper notes and the latter being coins. One hundred kopecks made up a single ruble.

In the book My Universities by Soviet author Gorky, the protagonist Alyosha worked as a porter at the docks when he was young and earned only twenty or thirty kopecks a day. Although that was currency at the end of the 19th century which differed from currency in the 1920s, the purchasing power of rubles and kopecks were still guaranteed by the state today.

However, Zhang Sushang still felt very sad. He had never done any housework for all his eighteen years of life, but now he needed to clean up an entire library’s worth of trash.

Thank goodness Alexei took over wiping the highest windows, otherwise if he fell while weighing more than 180 kg he would be even more miserable.

This Russian guy was at least ten centimetres taller than him, who was already 1.8m tall…

Although the term hadn’t started yet, Zhang Sushang quickly got to work. He had secretly calculated it and felt that with his current salary from working at the library, if he wanted to buy stationery and assorted supplies for his studies, he would only be able to eat until he was half full after the university term began.

No, dieting was unhealthy, it would affect his plan to see his dad after living until ninety; yet if he wanted to lose weight by exercising, a high-quality diet was of utmost importance! Should he supplement calcium? Protein?

If he did high-intensity exercise while missing out on meat, eggs, or milk, maybe only his ghost would see the modern era!

Since he was unwilling to cut back, he had no choice but to increase revenue. When Alexei returned to the utility room with his bucket, ready to invite his new roommate to have lunch and then explore the campus together, he saw Zhang Sushang squatting and sorting garbage.

Zhang Sushang pulled out the dozen vodka bottles he had picked up that morning. Hearing the door opening behind him, he turned with a conspiratorial smile. “Alexei, do you know if there’s a place to hand in rubbish?”

His thinking was that if he sold a few more bottles, he may be able to buy an extra piece of bread. Anyway, he was the one who picked up the rubbish with his labour, there was no shame in it.

Alexei, looking at Zhang Sushang, suddenly felt an ache in his heart.

The kind-hearted bear slapped Zhang Sushang’s shoulder hard, causing him to almost fall to the floor despite his size.

“To celebrate you coming to the Soviet Union, I will add an extra potato to the soup tonight!” Alexei said firmly.

Zhang Sushang: …

I really thank you!

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< Previous | Table of Contents | Next >

• 1
  All true; see Wikipedia.
• 2
  A mathematical theorem that remained unproven for 100 years until Perelman; see Wikipedia.
• 3
  A prize for mathematicians under 40 years old, regarded as one of the highest honours a mathematician can receive, also known as the Nobel Prize of Mathematics; see Wikipedia.