Chapter 412: Olympic Countdown

Chapter 412: The Olympic Countdown

Meng Fan's visit to Damei Studio this time was not merely a casual drop-in; he actually had some business to attend to, all of which revolved around his manga.

First, the manuscript drafts for Spirits Underground needed to be handed over to Chen Daqiang and his team. Although Master Kun had not submitted many scripts, Meng Fan had managed to squeeze a few out of him; currently, Spirits Underground was on a weekly release schedule, and the stockpiled chapters were sufficient to last until the end of the Olympics, leaving only the post-production work for Chen Daqiang and the others to handle.

Second, the drafts for Miraculous People of the Mountains and Seas also had to be given to Chen Daqiang. Although Meng Fan completed the post-production for this series himself, there were still some loose ends that required their attention; furthermore, keeping the drafts with Chen Daqiang would make it easier for him to liaise with Penguin and Kodansha, as Meng Fan would certainly have no time for such matters in the near future.

Third was the matter of copyright for Miraculous People of the Mountains and Seas. Aside from publishing and animation adaptations, most of the rights remained in Meng Fan's hands. As the serialization progressed, inquiries regarding the copyrights grew increasingly frequent; some approached Meng Fan through Penguin and Yixin, while others bypassed Penguin entirely, prompting Meng Fan to prepare to release certain rights to the studio for negotiations with Penguin or other parties.

These included authorized merchandise development for specific characters, commercial exploitation of certain figures, and the creation of manga-related music (a venture that did not necessarily require spending his own money to hire musicians)—all of which were temporary or partial licensing arrangements.

Holding onto these rights indefinitely made little difference compared to releasing them early; moreover, it allowed the studio to try its hand at copyright operations to see if they were up to the task.

Oh, right, there was also the novel adaptation rights for the manga. The studio could consult Flathead and Master Kun for their opinions on this. While many novels were adapted into manga, the reverse process was far less common.

As for game and cinematic adaptations, they certainly could not be released at present, nor could they find a market yet, given how briefly the manga had been serialized. For a long-running manga, no matter how immense Meng Fan's popularity or how exceptional the artwork, becoming a massive hit still required time. Having dedicated his life to this craft, Meng Fan remained perfectly composed and patient, refusing to exploit his current fame to force any radical plans upon the series.

His popularity serves only to introduce the manga to a wider audience; in the end, its reputation and success must rely on its own merits, otherwise, it would merely be a castle built on sand, incapable of withstanding the crashing waves.

After a brief chat with Flathead, he came to understand the difficulties of adapting a manga into a novel. It was not that it was hard to write, but rather that finding the right writer was nearly impossible. Platinum-tier authors were preoccupied with creating their own intellectual properties and would at most write occasional commissioned pieces; expecting them to set aside their work to adapt a manga was out of the question. As for lesser-known authors, Meng Fan could not bring himself to trust them. At best, he could release the rights for fan fiction, but given the current length of Miraculous People of the Mountains and Seas, it was still far too early for that.

Different trades are like separate worlds; Meng Fan was unfamiliar with the web novel industry and felt that what he heard made perfect sense. Still, since the rights were out there, so be it. Whether the studio could secure a suitable writer was their concern; there was no rush, as this was a long-term endeavor.

After lingering at Damei Studio for a while longer, Meng Fan returned with Wu Tong. Subsequently, his daily routine reverted to how it had been before his "enlightenment through cultivation," with his life revolving primarily around the Fengji Martial Arts Gym and the Zhejiang Provincial Institute of Sports.

Meng Fan attached great importance to the Olympics. Although his current competitive form would easily allow him to reduce his training regimen, he diligently applied himself to his exercises, ensuring no unexpected disruptions would occur during this critical window. Naturally, everyone cooperated seamlessly; they all understood that Meng Fan could not be swayed by outside invitations during the run-up to the Games. Though countless television shows sought his appearance, and even Shi Shiwu had completed a song he promised to write for Meng Fan, the musician refrained from sending it over, fearing it might distract him from his Olympic preparations.

The only minor deviation came from the commercial endorsements managed by Hu Yijing. Ultimately, it was decided that he would accept an endorsement before the Olympics, but it was not a commercial venture; rather, it was a public welfare campaign.

During this period, numerous merchants and advertisers had reached out, and some were indeed suitable. However, after consultations between Hu Yijing and Meng Caiwei, they chose a public welfare endorsement. Truth be told, this ran counter to their original intentions of securing lucrative commercial deals for Meng Fan, representing a subversion of their initial plans, yet that was how things unfolded.

At the end of May, while organizing the latest list of potential sponsors, Hu Yijing attended an event where she learned that the China Wildlife Conservation Association was seeking a spokesperson for a public welfare initiative. This instantly caught her attention. By a stroke of luck, Meng Caiwei was also present at the event; the two met, discussed the prospect, and deemed it a perfect fit. They approached the person in charge, and the deal was finalized on the spot.

To be frank, many prominent celebrities and superstars were eager to land this particular wildlife protection endorsement. Those with inside information knew that the scale of this campaign far exceeded ordinary public welfare projects, offering an exceptional opportunity for public exposure and extensive promotion.

Yet, when compared to Meng Fan, even the most renowned stars possessed little competitive edge—not because Meng Fan's popularity or influence eclipsed theirs, but simply because he was uniquely suited for the role.

The public service announcement was released shortly thereafter. Upon viewing it, the netizens universally proclaimed: Meng Fan protecting tigers, lions, and bears? Completely flawless!

The advertisement was shot partly at the Hangzhou Zoo and partly at the Hangzhou Safari Park. The concept was straightforward, and the filming was even simpler: it merely depicted Meng Fan playing with tigers, lions, and bears. With a bit of editing, the captured footage, overlaid with captions advocating animal protection, made it appear as though Meng Fan was shielding them, without the slightest hint of incongruity. Meng Fan's aura on screen was so imposing that even those unaware of his past exploit of subduing a tiger would feel, after watching it, that he was more than capable of safeguarding these beasts.

Naturally, other celebrities endorsing wildlife conservation or filming public service announcements was also a positive endeavor; after all, physical strength was not a prerequisite for protecting animals, as influence and other means were equally vital. However, in terms of sheer visual impact, their efforts could not match the raw power of Meng Fan's commercial.

Granted, if one wished to argue that Meng Fan's participation in such a campaign actually dampened the public's enthusiasm for protecting wildlife, they would not be entirely wrong. Looking at the commercial, it truly seemed as though he could handle everything single-handedly.

The contract was signed at the end of May, filmed in early June, and broadcasted in mid-June. Combined with his half-month of "cultivation" prior to that, Meng Fan, usually a frequent fixture on Weibo's trending topics, had been exceptionally quiet, appearing on the hot search list only once during the entire month.

Yet, the commercial itself was not the biggest sensation; that honor belonged to the behind-the-scenes footage. While some suspected special effects in the official ad, the raw outtakes offered an undeniable sense of reality. The related videos immediately went viral abroad, capturing the attention of the "fighting nation" of Russia and various Middle Eastern countries. For the skeptics, reading the footage alongside the news of Meng Fan subduing a tiger in the Middle East proved to be an effective cure for their disbelief.

In the blink of an eye, June 20th arrived. Meng Fan packed his bags and led his team to the national training camp for the final phase of preparation, officially entering the Olympic countdown.

The training venue remained the Qinhuangdao Training Base. When Meng Fan arrived, a multitude of athletes who had qualified for the Olympics had already gathered, representing a significant portion of the delegation's sports disciplines.

After completing his registration and a series of formalities, Meng Fan spent his first day doing nothing so much as wandering around to take photos with people. His enthusiasm for these snapshots surpassed even his vigor during his past photo-gathering quests, targeting Olympic champions, world champions, sports icons, and renowned coaches alike.

Fortune favored Meng Fan that day, as he soon crossed paths with two legendary coaches he had long admired: the fat official who allegedly knows nothing about ping pong and the head coach of the women's volleyball team, the Iron Hammer.

Following a bustling round of introductions, Meng Fan returned to his dormitory in the evening and encountered his "senior brother," the younger Shi Zhiyong—a true brother in arms under the same discipline.

Meng Fan was assigned a single room, not by his own request, but because occupying spots in three different national teams made it awkward to room with any single squad. Naturally, a private room also facilitated his late-night manga drawing and allowed him to video chat with Wu Tong in the evenings.

Meng Fan's training schedule was specially arranged by the Weightlifting, Wrestling, and Judo Management Center, primarily consisting of physical conditioning in the morning and technical-tactical drills in the afternoon. Aside from his individual events in wrestling, judo, and weightlifting, he also participated in the judo mixed team training, mainly to familiarize himself with his teammates and facilitate tactical arrangements and roster adjustments during the competition.

This training camp served two main purposes for Meng Fan: to integrate into the collective and absorb the pre-game atmosphere, and to ensure the safety of his dietary intake to avoid any potential issues with anti-doping tests.

As for Meng Fan's own impact on the wrestling and judo squads, it was profound. While maintaining his own training, he was more than willing to assist his teammates in their drills, provided they were receptive. The results were naturally striking, particularly for the heavyweight athletes of both teams, who achieved remarkable progress within a short span.

Before long, the half-month training camp concluded as July arrived. The various national sports federations and associations began drafting the final Olympic rosters—the prerequisite for entry being, naturally, having secured Olympic qualification.

On July 5th, the Weightlifting, Wrestling, and Judo Management Center issued the final rosters for the three teams. Meng Fan’s inclusion went without saying, as there was absolutely no competition in his weight classes; furthermore, the judo mixed team eventually included him as well. Because Meng Fan was competing across three major sports and four distinct events, the long-established schedule revealed that his competitions were tightly packed, requiring him to complete all four individual events within six days. The management center naturally had to consider his energy distribution, prioritizing his individual events since they were all prime gold medal prospects.

Consequently, whether Meng Fan would actually compete in the team event depended entirely on his condition at the time; if he felt overly fatigued or feared it might impair his performance in subsequent matches, he would certainly sit it out.

For the judo team event, if Meng Fan occupied a roster spot but did not compete, it would place a strain on the squad, leaving them without a substitute in the over-90kg category. However, even if he remained on the sidelines, Meng Fan's mere presence served as a potent deterrent to many opposing national teams, especially when facing South Korea. Of course, it would be ideal if he took the mat, ensuring a guaranteed point.

For most athletes, the Olympic roster held few surprises; as long as they avoided severe disciplinary infractions or injuries during this period, their inclusion was virtually guaranteed. Only a handful of individual events and certain team selections remained genuinely uncertain until the official release.

Following the roster announcement, the members of the various national delegations boarded buses to leave the base for Beijing to attend the inaugural press conference of the Chinese Olympic Delegation, marking the most significant domestic event before their departure.

On the 6th, a delighted Meng Fan donned the uniform of the Chinese Olympic delegation. While the style had evolved, the classic "scrambled eggs with tomatoes" color scheme remained unchanged—the same recipe, the same familiar flavor.

Click.

He snapped a selfie to send to Wu Tong, then shared it in the family group chat.

Afterward, filled with profound excitement, he followed the ranks into the solemn Great Hall of the People.

The establishment of the Chinese Olympic Legion was naturally the biggest headline of the day, with related reports flooding major media outlets and websites the moment the ceremony concluded.

The Observer was among them, running the headline: Chinese Olympic Legion Established, Largest Contingent in History Sets Its Sights on Kyoto, Japan. The reporting style echoed that of 2016, with an abstract summarized below:

At 16:00 Beijing time on July 6th, the mobilization rally for the Chinese Sports Delegation to the Kyoto Olympics was held at the Great Hall of the People, where the official roster was announced, marking the formal establishment of the delegation bound for Kyoto, Japan. The roster not only features fierce warriors capable of seizing gold and silver for the motherland but also lacks no shortage of stunningly attractive figures among the handsome and beautiful athletes.

When speaking of visual appeal, Meng Fan undoubtedly stands second to none; he is not only exceptionally charming and handsome but also possesses fearsome strength. He is the athlete competing in the highest number of events within the Chinese delegation, and moreover, the first competitor in Olympic history to span three major sports and five distinct events. He will contend across five events over six consecutive days. On a premier stage like the Olympics, the physical toll of every single match is unimaginable—he truly deserves the title of the Iron God!

Aside from Meng Fan, the Chinese Olympic Legion boasts plenty of other athletes who possess both exceptional looks and prowess, such as those in the swimming events...

Furthermore, the website reviewed the gold medal prospects for the Chinese legion at these Olympic Games, alongside a list of renowned sports stars who failed to make the cut.

Numerous other media outlets published the full Olympic roster directly, encompassing not only the athletes but also delegation officials, team leaders, deputy leaders, coaches, as well as accompanying staff including doctors, researchers, translators, and administrative personnel.

Among them, Dean Zhan appeared on the weightlifting roster as a coach, tasked with managing the competitions for Meng Fan and Shi Zhiyong.

Naturally, photographs of the athletes attending the mobilization rally were indispensable, with Meng Fan being one of the most frequently featured competitors across major media platforms.

Weibo was naturally flooded with related trending topics, and more than just one.

One of them was directly related to Meng Fan: #IronGodFiveEvents

(End of Chapter)

Looks perfectly formatted and clean. No markdown. Exact same number of lines. No explanations.Chapter 412: The Olympic Countdown

Meng Fan's visit to Damei Studio this time was not merely a casual drop-in; he actually had some business to attend to, all of which revolved around his manga.

First, the manuscript drafts for Spirits Underground needed to be handed over to Chen Daqiang and his team. Although Master Kun had not submitted many scripts, Meng Fan had managed to squeeze a few out of him; currently, Spirits Underground was on a weekly release schedule, and the stockpiled chapters were sufficient to last until the end of the Olympics, leaving only the post-production work for Chen Daqiang and the others to handle.

Second, the drafts for Miraculous People of the Mountains and Seas also had to be given to Chen Daqiang. Although Meng Fan completed the post-production for this series himself, there were still some loose ends that required their attention; furthermore, keeping the drafts with Chen Daqiang would make it easier for him to liaise with Penguin and Kodansha, as Meng Fan would certainly have no time for such matters in the near future.

Third was the matter of copyright for Miraculous People of the Mountains and Seas. Aside from publishing and animation adaptations, most of the rights remained in Meng Fan's hands. As the serialization progressed, inquiries regarding the copyrights grew increasingly frequent; some approached Meng Fan through Penguin and Yixin, while others bypassed Penguin entirely, prompting Meng Fan to prepare to release certain rights to the studio for negotiations with Penguin or other parties.

These included authorized merchandise development for specific characters, commercial exploitation of certain figures, and the creation of manga-related music (a venture that did not necessarily require spending his own money to hire musicians)—all of which were temporary or partial licensing arrangements.

Holding onto these rights indefinitely made little difference compared to releasing them early; moreover, it allowed the studio to try its hand at copyright operations to see if they were up to the task.

Oh, right, there was also the novel adaptation rights for the manga. The studio could consult Flathead and Master Kun for their opinions on this. While many novels were adapted into manga, the reverse process was far less common.

As for game and cinematic adaptations, they certainly could not be released at present, nor could they find a market yet, given how briefly the manga had been serialized. For a long-running manga, no matter how immense Meng Fan's popularity or how exceptional the artwork, becoming a massive hit still required time. Having dedicated his life to this craft, Meng Fan remained perfectly composed and patient, refusing to exploit his current fame to force any radical plans upon the series.

His popularity serves only to introduce the manga to a wider audience; in the end, its reputation and success must rely on its own merits, otherwise, it would merely be a castle built on sand, incapable of withstanding the crashing waves.

After a brief chat with Flathead, he came to understand the difficulties of adapting a manga into a novel. It was not that it was hard to write, but rather that finding the right writer was nearly impossible. Platinum-tier authors were preoccupied with creating their own intellectual properties and would at most write occasional commissioned pieces; expecting them to set aside their work to adapt a manga was out of the question. As for lesser-known authors, Meng Fan could not bring himself to trust them. At best, he could release the rights for fan fiction, but given the current length of Miraculous People of the Mountains and Seas, it was still far too early for that.

Different trades are like separate worlds; Meng Fan was unfamiliar with the web novel industry and felt that what he heard made perfect sense. Still, since the rights were out there, so be it. Whether the studio could secure a suitable writer was their concern; there was no rush, as this was a long-term endeavor.

After lingering at Damei Studio for a while longer, Meng Fan returned with Wu Tong. Subsequently, his daily routine reverted to how it had been before his "enlightenment through cultivation," with his life revolving primarily around the Fengji Martial Arts Gym and the Zhejiang Provincial Institute of Sports.

Meng Fan attached great importance to the Olympics. Although his current competitive form would easily allow him to reduce his training regimen, he diligently applied himself to his exercises, ensuring no unexpected disruptions would occur during this critical window. Naturally, everyone cooperated seamlessly; they all understood that Meng Fan could not be swayed by outside invitations during the run-up to the Games. Though countless television shows sought his appearance, and even Shi Shiwu had completed a song he promised to write for Meng Fan, the musician refrained from sending it over, fearing it might distract him from his Olympic preparations.

The only minor deviation came from the commercial endorsements managed by Hu Yijing. Ultimately, it was decided that he would accept an endorsement before the Olympics, but it was not a commercial venture; rather, it was a public welfare campaign.

During this period, numerous merchants and advertisers had reached out, and some were indeed suitable. However, after consultations between Hu Yijing and Meng Caiwei, they chose a public welfare endorsement. Truth be told, this ran counter to their original intentions of securing lucrative commercial deals for Meng Fan, representing a subversion of their initial plans, yet that was how things unfolded.

At the end of May, while organizing the latest list of potential sponsors, Hu Yijing attended an event where she learned that the China Wildlife Conservation Association was seeking a spokesperson for a public welfare initiative. This instantly caught her attention. By a stroke of luck, Meng Caiwei was also present at the event; the two met, discussed the prospect, and deemed it a perfect fit. They approached the person in charge, and the deal was finalized on the spot.

To be frank, many prominent celebrities and superstars were eager to land this particular wildlife protection endorsement. Those with inside information knew that the scale of this campaign far exceeded ordinary public welfare projects, offering an exceptional opportunity for public exposure and extensive promotion.

Yet, when compared to Meng Fan, even the most renowned stars possessed little competitive edge—not because Meng Fan's popularity or influence eclipsed theirs, but simply because he was uniquely suited for the role.

The public service announcement was released shortly thereafter. Upon viewing it, the netizens universally proclaimed: Meng Fan protecting tigers, lions, and bears? Completely flawless!

The advertisement was shot partly at the Hangzhou Zoo and partly at the Hangzhou Safari Park. The concept was straightforward, and the filming was even simpler: it merely depicted Meng Fan playing with tigers, lions, and bears. With a bit of editing, the captured footage, overlaid with captions advocating animal protection, made it appear as though Meng Fan was shielding them, without the slightest hint of incongruity. Meng Fan's aura on screen was so imposing that even those unaware of his past exploit of subduing a tiger would feel, after watching it, that he was more than capable of safeguarding these beasts.

Naturally, other celebrities endorsing wildlife conservation or filming public service announcements was also a positive endeavor; after all, physical strength was not a prerequisite for protecting animals, as influence and other means were equally vital. However, in terms of sheer visual impact, their efforts could not match the raw power of Meng Fan's commercial.

Granted, if one wished to argue that Meng Fan's participation in such a campaign actually dampened the public's enthusiasm for protecting wildlife, they would not be entirely wrong. Looking at the commercial, it truly seemed as though he could handle everything single-handedly.

The contract was signed at the end of May, filmed in early June, and broadcasted in mid-June. Combined with his half-month of "cultivation" prior to that, Meng Fan, usually a frequent fixture on Weibo's trending topics, had been exceptionally quiet, appearing on the hot search list only once during the entire month.

Yet, the commercial itself was not the biggest sensation; that honor belonged to the behind-the-scenes footage. While some suspected special effects in the official ad, the raw outtakes offered an undeniable sense of reality. The related videos immediately went viral abroad, capturing the attention of the "fighting nation" of Russia and various Middle Eastern countries. For the skeptics, reading the footage alongside the news of Meng Fan subduing a tiger in the Middle East proved to be an effective cure for their disbelief.

In the blink of an eye, June 20th arrived. Meng Fan packed his bags and led his team to the national training camp for the final phase of preparation, officially entering the Olympic countdown.

The training venue remained the Qinhuangdao Training Base. When Meng Fan arrived, a multitude of athletes who had qualified for the Olympics had already gathered, representing a significant portion of the delegation's sports disciplines.

After completing his registration and a series of formalities, Meng Fan spent his first day doing nothing so much as wandering around to take photos with people. His enthusiasm for these snapshots surpassed even his vigor during his past photo-gathering quests, targeting Olympic champions, world champions, sports icons, and renowned coaches alike.

Fortune favored Meng Fan that day, as he soon crossed paths with two legendary coaches he had long admired: the fat official who allegedly knows nothing about ping pong and the head coach of the women's volleyball team, the Iron Hammer.

Following a bustling round of introductions, Meng Fan returned to his dormitory in the evening and encountered his "senior brother," the younger Shi Zhiyong—a true brother in arms under the same discipline.

Meng Fan was assigned a single room, not by his own request, but because occupying spots in three different national teams made it awkward to room with any single squad. Naturally, a private room also facilitated his late-night manga drawing and allowed him to video chat with Wu Tong in the evenings.

Meng Fan's training schedule was specially arranged by the Weightlifting, Wrestling, and Judo Management Center, primarily consisting of physical conditioning in the morning and technical-tactical drills in the afternoon. Aside from his individual events in wrestling, judo, and weightlifting, he also participated in the judo mixed team training, mainly to familiarize himself with his teammates and facilitate tactical arrangements and roster adjustments during the competition.

This training camp served two main purposes for Meng Fan: to integrate into the collective and absorb the pre-game atmosphere, and to ensure the safety of his dietary intake to avoid any potential issues with anti-doping tests.

As for Meng Fan's own impact on the wrestling and judo squads, it was profound. While maintaining his own training, he was more than willing to assist his teammates in their drills, provided they were receptive. The results were naturally striking, particularly for the heavyweight athletes of both teams, who achieved remarkable progress within a short span.

Before long, the half-month training camp concluded as July arrived. The various national sports federations and associations began drafting the final Olympic rosters—the prerequisite for entry being, naturally, having secured Olympic qualification.

On July 5th, the Weightlifting, Wrestling, and Judo Management Center issued the final rosters for the three teams. Meng Fan’s inclusion went without saying, as there was absolutely no competition in his weight classes; furthermore, the judo mixed team eventually included him as well. Because Meng Fan was competing across three major sports and four distinct events, the long-established schedule revealed that his competitions were tightly packed, requiring him to complete all four individual events within six days. The management center naturally had to consider his energy distribution, prioritizing his individual events since they were all prime gold medal prospects.

Consequently, whether Meng Fan would actually compete in the team event depended entirely on his condition at the time; if he felt overly fatigued or feared it might impair his performance in subsequent matches, he would certainly sit it out.

For the judo team event, if Meng Fan occupied a roster spot but did not compete, it would place a strain on the squad, leaving them without a substitute in the over-90kg category. However, even if he remained on the sidelines, Meng Fan's mere presence served as a potent deterrent to many opposing national teams, especially when facing South Korea. Of course, it would be ideal if he took the mat, ensuring a guaranteed point.

For most athletes, the Olympic roster held few surprises; as long as they avoided severe disciplinary infractions or injuries during this period, their inclusion was virtually guaranteed. Only a handful of individual events and certain team selections remained genuinely uncertain until the official release.

Following the roster announcement, the members of the various national delegations boarded buses to leave the base for Beijing to attend the inaugural press conference of the Chinese Olympic Delegation, marking the most significant domestic event before their departure.

On the 6th, a delighted Meng Fan donned the uniform of the Chinese Olympic delegation. While the style had evolved, the classic "scrambled eggs with tomatoes" color scheme remained unchanged—the same recipe, the same familiar flavor.

Click.

He snapped a selfie to send to Wu Tong, then shared it in the family group chat.

Afterward, filled with profound excitement, he followed the ranks into the solemn Great Hall of the People.

The establishment of the Chinese Olympic Legion was naturally the biggest headline of the day, with related reports flooding major media outlets and websites the moment the ceremony concluded.

The Observer was among them, running the headline: Chinese Olympic Legion Established, Largest Contingent in History Sets Its Sights on Kyoto, Japan. The reporting style echoed that of 2016, with an abstract summarized below:

At 16:00 Beijing time on July 6th, the mobilization rally for the Chinese Sports Delegation to the Kyoto Olympics was held at the Great Hall of the People, where the official roster was announced, marking the formal establishment of the delegation bound for Kyoto, Japan. The roster not only features fierce warriors capable of seizing gold and silver for the motherland but also lacks no shortage of stunningly attractive figures among the handsome and beautiful athletes.

When speaking of visual appeal, Meng Fan undoubtedly stands second to none; he is not only exceptionally charming and handsome but also possesses fearsome strength. He is the athlete competing in the highest number of events within the Chinese delegation, and moreover, the first competitor in Olympic history to span three major sports and five distinct events. He will contend across five events over six consecutive days. On a premier stage like the Olympics, the physical toll of every single match is unimaginable—he truly deserves the title of the Iron God!

Aside from Meng Fan, the Chinese Olympic Legion boasts plenty of other athletes who possess both exceptional looks and prowess, such as those in the swimming events...

Furthermore, the website reviewed the gold medal prospects for the Chinese legion at these Olympic Games, alongside a list of renowned sports stars who failed to make the cut.

Numerous other media outlets published the full Olympic roster directly, encompassing not only the athletes but also delegation officials, team leaders, deputy leaders, coaches, as well as accompanying staff including doctors, researchers, translators, and administrative personnel.

Among them, Dean Zhan appeared on the weightlifting roster as a coach, tasked with managing the competitions for Meng Fan and Shi Zhiyong.

Naturally, photographs of the athletes attending the mobilization rally were indispensable, with Meng Fan being one of the most frequently featured competitors across major media platforms.

Weibo was naturally flooded with related trending topics, and more than just one.

One of them was directly related to Meng Fan: #IronGodFiveEvents

(End of Chapter)