Despite the Seido High School Baseball Team's intense training schedule, Zhang Han still made ti to go ho whenever he could.
At ho, Ms. Lan He—despite being the mother of two children—still had the mindset of a teenager. His younger sister wasn't much better. Leaving the two of them alone always made Zhang Han a little uneasy.
Considering that he would eventually go to college, it was very likely that he wouldn't see his two closest family mbers for several years. Within reasonable limits, Zhang Han was willing to spend as much ti with them as possible.
He didn't want to regret it later.
After more than half an hour on the train, Zhang Han finally arrived at his residential complex. It was still early. Most of the residents were at work, so the entire place was unusually quiet.
It wasn't until he reached his door that he heard lively chatter coming from inside.
"Oh, Han Han really is promising. I knew it. Look, he's even in a magazine now."
"The photographer isn't very good, though. Look how pale they made our Han Han look, like he's not eating enough."
"I heard kids who appear in magazines are definitely going to be successful in the future."
"Big sister has finally made it!"
"Just look at Han Han, then look at our two troublemakers. Ah, I won't say anything more. It's fate."
Several won were talking at once, making the house sound like a marketplace.
Lan He's voice rang out among them, filled with barely restrained excitent. Even though she tried to stay modest, her pitch had risen several octaves.
"Sister Wang, it's not as good as you say. That mischievous boy just got lucky and caught Mr. Ono's attention…"
"Oh, don't be modest! If Han Han didn't have talent, how could they personally invite him to join a youth league?"
"I heard they didn't even charge a selection fee. Isn't it incredibly expensive to attend those clubs?"
"It's not that exaggerated. Xiao Han said it's just a little over one hundred thousand yen a year…"
Another round of envious sighs followed.
Even Zhang Han himself found the situation a little surreal.
Back when the Matsukata Senior League finished as national runner-up, several TV stations had broadcast the gas. Zhang Han had assud it would cause at least so reaction in his neighborhood.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
But nothing happened.
The people living nearby were mostly busy with work and daily life. They paid little attention to sports, and even if they knew Zhang Han had played in national competitions, they didn't think it was anything special.
So even privately muttered that he should focus on more practical pursuits.
Only Lan He was relatively open-minded. She believed having a hobby wasn't a bad thing and treated baseball as simple exercise. That was why she never stopped him from playing.
She never imagined that such a casual decision would lead to unexpected success.
Zhang Han earned substantial scholarships because of baseball. Not only that, he appeared in a magazine. His reputation spread from school, to the internet, and now even to his neighborhood.
"Mom, I'm ho."
As soon as Zhang Han entered, the aunts surrounded him. So patted his head, others showered him with praise.
To be honest, Zhang Han hated it.
He'd had fair skin since childhood, which made elders love pinching his cheeks. Now they'd upgraded to rubbing his head—sothing Zhang Han absolutely detested.
But every ti he saw the satisfied smile on Lan He's face, he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
So even now, despite being nearly 1.8 ters tall, those won still treated him like a child.
They never got tired of it. In fact, they only beca more enthusiastic. Zhang Han did his best to maintain the image of a polite, obedient kid, while Lan He watched from the side with a beaming smile.
It wasn't until the aunts finally left that Zhang Han went to take a shower, grumbling to himself.
His hair was a complete ss, and the feeling drove him crazy.
At school, everyone knew Zhang Han had a bad temper.
Most of the ti, he was polite and composed. But once angered, his expression would turn cold and distant, pushing people away instantly.
He looked especially intimidating.
So much so that back in the Matsukata Senior League, many players his age respectfully called him Zhang-san.
"San" was a suffix usually used out of politeness or respect.
"How's school?" Lan He asked casually.
"It's fine. I'm telling you for the last ti—warn those aunts not to touch my head again. If they do it again, I really will get angry. Don't bla if you lose face."
"I know, I know," Lan He replied perfunctorily.
From her tone, it was obvious she hadn't taken it seriously at all.
Zhang Han was speechless.
She had him completely figured out. Still, one day, she would definitely see his power.
"How did they even get that baseball magazine?" Zhang Han asked curiously. "They didn't care much when I was on TV before, did they?"
Baseball wasn't exactly a mainstream sport where he grew up.
As a pasti, it was acceptable. But pursuing sports seriously? Most parents were hesitant about it.
That mindset hadn't changed much, even after moving to a different environnt.
Most of the aunts' children simply joined school clubs for form's sake and didn't take them seriously. They cared far more about grades and getting into good schools.
Even appearing on TV for baseball hadn't impressed them.
Let alone being featured in a magazine.
"It's all because of money," Lan He said bluntly. "They heard you didn't pay a selection fee and even received a scholarship. Now they're full of regret, wishing they'd let their kids join sports clubs too."
"Plus," Lan He added, "they heard you got paid a few thousand yen for the magazine photoshoot."
Zhang Han originally thought the aunts had finally understood the value and future of baseball.
He never expected it was all about money.
"So… is that magazine still asking you to shoot?" Lan He asked.
"According to their reporter, if the school agrees, I can do promotional shoots for them and occasionally appear on the cover. Maybe once or twice every two months."
"Doesn't that an you'll earn seven or eight thousand every month?"
"Probably around that."
"Where's the money?"
"What money?"
"Don't play dumb. Hand it over to your old lady. I'll save it for you—for when you get married later."
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