Grotesqueries of the Old Domain

Chapter 5: Lollipop

"Youth Center?"

Hearing this name that was both unfamiliar and familiar, Zhang Wenda was taken aback—when had this small town ever had a Youth Center?

He had never been to a Youth Center; he had only ever seen it in his math textbooks.

Question: It takes Xiaoming 10 minutes to get to the Youth Center from home. Four minutes after departure, he realizes he forgot something and immediately returns at the same speed. After retrieving the item, he heads to the Youth Center at 120 meters per minute and arrives in 14 minutes. What was Xiaoming's original speed?

The name sounded like a place for fun. When he was younger, he sometimes imagined how fun it might be, but now he didn't think so—God knows what kind of place the Youth Center in this creepy town would be.

"Are you going or not? If not, I’m leaving." Pan Dongzi pretended to be impatient, glancing repeatedly at his digital watch.

"Wait, wait a sec." Zhang Wenda quickly stood up and shoved the Student Handbook into his pocket. "We’re going now? Don’t we have class this afternoon?"

"It’s Friday, come on. Don’t you remember? We always go to the Youth Center on Friday afternoons."

"Then... do I have to go? What happens if I don’t?" he asked, with a hint of hesitation in his voice.

"How would I know what happens if you don’t go? I’m going. If you don’t go, I won’t be around you," Pan Dongzi replied as he adjusted the straps of his backpack.

"Are all the other classmates going too?"

"Pretty much. So, are you going or not?" Pan Dongzi kept urging him.

"I’m going! I’ll definitely go!" Recalling the painful events of the morning, Zhang Wenda didn’t hesitate this time and agreed firmly.

Skipping class had been bad enough—who knew what consequences skipping the Youth Center might bring? He definitely didn’t want to go through that again.

Facing this world of the past, there were many things he didn’t understand, but there was one thing he had figured out—when in doubt, go where the locals go. You can’t go wrong following the locals.

"You’re going just like that? Not bringing anything?" The chubby boy looked Zhang Wenda up and down.

"Bring stuff? It’s just the Youth Center. What’s there to bring?" But then again, what had Xiaoming forgotten to bring back then?

"Of course you have to bring stuff." The chubby boy unzipped his backpack for him to see.

When Zhang Wenda peeked inside, he was shocked to find that a bag meant for books didn’t contain a single book.

Instead, he saw a mess of ropes, some transparent glass bottles, a bunch of knotted plastic bags, and a folded red-and-white striped woven sack.

Everything made Zhang Wenda thoroughly confused. "What... what is all this? You need to bring these to the Youth Center? So these were the things Xiaoming forgot? What kind of place is the Youth Center?"

He had never been to a Youth Center when he was young, so he could only imagine what it was like—but even without having been, he instinctively felt something was off about these items.

Zhang Wenda quickly flipped through the Student Handbook, only to find there was absolutely no mention of the Youth Center.

Glancing again at the items in the chubby boy’s bag, he asked, "Are these things necessary?"

"Yeah, we have to bring them. The teacher said so in class."

"The teacher? And what are they for—" Zhang Wenda caught himself mid-sentence, stopping abruptly. That was close—if he asked too many questions, would he be attacked again?

Glancing at the Student Handbook with lingering fear, Zhang Wenda no longer dared to gamble with the conditions that triggered the rules.

"So this is all, right? Fine, wait a bit. I’ll go home and grab some."

Back home, Zhang Wenda originally planned to grab the joss paper hidden under the glass for some purchases, but he actually found a dirty old backpack.

Opening it, he found that in addition to some textbooks, there were also a few similar containers. Judging from their wear and tear, it was clear he had been to the Youth Center before.

Seeing these traces, Zhang Wenda felt a little relieved. It seemed the Youth Center might not be dangerous after all.

He immediately slung the backpack over his shoulder, ready to head out. After a moment's thought, he picked up a heavy flashlight, weighed it in his hand, and stuffed it into the mesh side pocket of the backpack.

"Better take it—just in case something happens, at least I’ll have a blunt weapon." Zhang Wenda had tested this thing’s power as a kid—it was more effective than a brick.

On the yellowed cement road, a group of students was walking toward the Youth Center. Besides the chubby boy, a few other classmates were gradually gathering.

Zhang Wenda found them all familiar, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t remember their names.

Most of them were boys—at this age, they probably didn’t hang out with girls anyway.

And wherever boys gathered, there was bound to be some senseless debate. Like now, they were arguing whether airplanes or tanks were more powerful.

"Of course airplanes are better! They can fly! Can a tank fly? Do you even know how high an airplane can fly?" Pan Dongzi gestured wildly as he spoke.

"Airplanes can’t compare to tanks! Tanks have cannons! They can shoot planes down!"

But Zhang Wenda didn’t have the energy to join these pointless arguments. He pulled out a pen and, on a blank spot in the Student Handbook, gritted his teeth and wrote down a new rule: "No asking too many questions."

Based on his two personal experiences triggering rules, it was clear that the rules in the handbook were ambiguous. He needed to make them more precise based on his own understanding.

He then tried writing another rule: "Hang meat on TV No.6. Lightly tap it four times near 8 o’clock." After thinking it over, he crossed it out.

"Here." A lollipop wrapped in orange plastic appeared in front of Zhang Wenda.

He blinked and followed the stick of the lollipop upward, seeing Pan Dongzi’s grinning, carefree face. "Orange-flavored lollipop. Don’t you like this? If you eat it, it won’t hurt anymore."

Seeing that familiar wrapper, Zhang Wenda was unexpectedly touched. His wariness toward the guy quietly dissolved—he had actually remembered what he used to like as a kid.

But after he learned to smoke, he never touched candy again.

Zhang Wenda took it, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. A rich orange flavor instantly filled his mouth.

Maybe it wasn’t useful, but the sentiment really was rare. Maybe this dumb fatty wasn’t quite normal, but for now, it really seemed like they were childhood best friends.

"How is it? Tasty, right?" The chubby boy waved him off and went back to debating planes and tanks with the others.

But just a few steps later, something strange happened.

As he gently sucked on the candy, a surge of joyful emotion welled up inside him. His previously gloomy mood suddenly lifted, and warmth spread through his body.

The miraculous effect didn’t stop there. As his mood changed, his battered body also began to transform.

The burning pain gradually faded, and the swelling and bruising on his body started to dissipate.