Chapter Twenty-Four: A Nation Ablaze

From the very first day of his rebirth, Li Mu pondered how he could leverage his knowledge of the internet to earn enough over the summer to pay for his first year of university and buy himself a laptop. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect that his first earnings would come from selling songs; life is indeed full of unexpected twists.

It was already past six in the evening when Li Mu received the demos for his two songs. Zhang Kexuan, elated, couldn't bear to let this "talented young man" leave so soon. He insisted, dragging Li Mu and Chen Wan along, that they join him for dinner at the finest food stall in Jinling.

Li Mu originally wanted to refuse—if he drove back now, it wouldn't be too late to reach Haizhou. But Zhang Kexuan wouldn't relent, saying it was unsafe to drive at night and he wouldn't feel at ease. Chen Wan also urged Li Mu not to hurry, suggesting he could just return the next morning.

Suddenly, Zhang Kexuan remembered something and exclaimed, "Oh right, tonight at ten they're broadcasting the Olympic bid results live. If the bid succeeds, there'll be celebrations in Jinling tonight. I'll take you to the food stall, we'll have chilled beer, and watch the live broadcast together!"

Li Mu realized what day it was—July 13th. Tonight, around ten, Samaranch would announce in Moscow that Yanjing had won the right to host the 2008 Summer Olympics. It was truly a cause for national celebration. Given that, perhaps he should indulge a little.

He called his parents to let them know, then drove Chen Wan's A6, following Zhang Kexuan's imported Land Cruiser, to a bustling food stall in the heart of the city.

In these days, it was still possible to find food stalls in the city center; in a few years, such luck would be rare.

The food stall Zhang Kexuan took them to was quite upscale, the most prominent feature being a large rear projection TV in the center. In those years, such TVs were a rare luxury.

After greeting the owner, they were led to the best reserved spot, close to the TV and directly facing it.

"We often come here to watch football," Zhang Kexuan said after they sat down. He turned to Li Mu, "Do you like football?"

"I enjoy watching, but I'm not good at playing," Li Mu replied.

Zhang Kexuan laughed, "We don’t really play either—not much athletic talent. We just like watching."

He continued, "But this year, our national team is doing great—six wins in six matches in the Asian qualifiers for the World Cup."

Ye Tianming chuckled, "Look at who they're playing—Maldives, Cambodia, Indonesia… I think when we get to the Asian top ten, odds are the national team is still going to lose."

Xia Ji said, "Hey, I have a feeling this year the national team has a real shot at qualifying for the World Cup!"

Li Mu calculated the timeline—the national team had finished the qualifiers, but the Asian top ten matches wouldn't start until late August. He remembered clearly; by then, he would have already registered at university and prepared for military training.

As for qualifying for the World Cup, that wouldn't be confirmed until early October, at Wulihe Stadium, when the national team defeated Oman 1-0.

Li Mu had been truly excited that year, but in the end, it was all for naught; during the World Cup group stage, the national team was defeated three times in succession—three losses, nine goals conceded, not a single goal scored, returning home in disgrace.

Zhang Kexuan called over the owner and ordered a lavish spread—plenty of grilled meats and spicy crayfish, and finally requested imported Corona beers. His exuberant demeanor made it clear he was in exceptional spirits.

Li Mu was quite happy too. In the backpack he’d left in Chen Wan’s Audi trunk, he had eighty thousand yuan in cash—a sum he’d earned since his rebirth, though not yet his first real windfall. He decided not to tell his family for now; tomorrow he’d buy a laptop in Jinling, then he could truly start laying out his plans for the internet.

A summer evening, food stalls and chilled beer, with the beautiful Chen Wan at his side—Li Mu felt life was pretty good. Having thoroughly impressed Zhang Kexuan and his group, they treated him with great respect, toasting him repeatedly and expressing their gratitude.

During the toasts, Li Mu learned the band’s name was Jinling Noise Factory. He didn’t comment on the unusual name; after all, he never quite understood rock band names—like Frost Eve or Sunrise Last Night.

When people with shared interests gather, the conversation flows, the drinks multiply. After much chatting, Li Mu found that these four privileged youths were genuinely passionate about music and rock, and as a music lover himself, he found the conversation increasingly enjoyable.

Without realizing it, it was already nine thirty. Li Mu was a bit tipsy, but he could see crowds gathering on the street. They wore the national flag, waved it high, even painted it on their faces—a throng gathered in the bustling district, with police standing guard nearby but not intervening.

Li Mu finished a bottle of Corona, gazing at the surrounding crowd. Large screens outside commercial buildings were all broadcasting the live coverage from the central station. His heart was stirred with excitement.

The people of China in 2001 were fortunate; there were two moments of national celebration that year—tonight, if the Olympic bid succeeded, and October 7th, when the national team qualified for the World Cup.

The crowd grew larger and larger. Some young men even spent their own money to buy bottled water and drinks, handing them out freely on the street.

"The Olympic bid will definitely succeed!" someone shouted, and the crowd burst forth with energy, echoing, "The Olympic bid will definitely succeed!"

Li Mu smiled knowingly—he was certain it would succeed. In about half an hour, the whole nation would indeed be celebrating.

Zhang Kexuan, deeply moved, declared, "I'll pay for all the Corona the owner has. If the Olympic bid succeeds, I'll give it out for free on the street!"

The other three privileged youths immediately agreed to join in.

Li Mu suggested, "You should buy canned beer instead. With so many people, bottles could accidentally cause injuries."

Zhang Kexuan nodded, "You’re always so thoughtful." He waved, "Boss Zhou!"

The owner, in his thirties, hurried over. Zhang Kexuan was a regular, bringing in plenty of business, and he was always straightforward, never putting on airs. Their relationship was quite good.

Zhang Kexuan took out his Land Cruiser keys and handed them to the owner, saying, "Old Zhou, do us a favor—none of us can drive now. Take my car and buy canned beer, as much as you can get. When the Olympic bid succeeds, I'll buy drinks for everyone on the street!"

Old Zhou paused, then slapped his thigh, "Count me in!"

At such a moment, a sense of national pride stirred in everyone's heart. Li Mu added, "I'll join as well. The six of us, we'll split the cost of whatever beer you bring back."

"And me too!" Chen Wan refused to be left out.

With police maintaining order, the road was kept clear for vehicles. Boss Zhou handed the business to his wife and, with an assistant, drove off in Zhang Kexuan's car. Zhang Kexuan said he often let Boss Zhou drive when he’d drunk too much at the stall.

In an era with no drunk driving checks, a privileged youth with the sense not to drive after drinking—Li Mu's impression of Zhang Kexuan rose considerably.

Since the results would be announced after ten, Boss Zhou wasted no time. He drove around and bought about a dozen cases of canned beer. By then, it was nearly ten o'clock.

Zhang Kexuan, cigarette dangling from his lips, called everyone to help unload the beer from the car, stacking it beside the street—each case held twenty-four cans, and there were tens of thousands of people in the district, but it was a gesture of goodwill.

Just after ten, Samaranch finally appeared after much anticipation.

That year, there were still four candidate cities—Istanbul, Paris, Toronto, and Osaka. So until Samaranch announced the name, no Chinese dared be absolutely certain Yanjing would succeed. Except, of course, Li Mu.

At 22:08, Samaranch, on the television, uttered two words: "Yanjing."

In an instant, the entire nation erupted in celebration...