Chapter 113: Chickens and Dogs Ascend to Heaven

"These are the key points you two need to master this year—I’ve listed them all on these exams."

"Study hard, don’t slack off! Just because I’m not home doesn’t mean I won’t find out if you’ve been putting in the work."

Li Ye placed two towering stacks of exam papers in front of Li Juan and Zhao Meiwen, leaving the two thirteen- and fourteen-year-old girls utterly stunned.

[So many papers? When will we ever finish them? And these are for this year alone?]

The two girls were still in junior high—they had no idea how brutal the college entrance exam was, and truly believed their older brother had passed university through the blessings of Old Huai, casually playing his way to success!

Now, faced with these piles over a foot thick, they finally understood what their brother had meant by that “focus” he’d been bragging about.

While setting high-intensity exam questions at the Second Grain Store, Li Ye had already prepared a tailored plan for Li Juan.

All the papers were arranged in progressive difficulty, from junior high to senior high, with the simplest foundational exams perfectly suited to Li Juan and Zhao Meiwen’s current level.

But after their brief shock, Li Juan and Zhao Meiwen reacted differently.

Zhao Meiwen frowned slightly, then clenched her teeth and resolved herself.

Li Juan, however, lit up with excitement and asked eagerly: "Brother, if I master all this in half a year, can I get the other stacks from the wooden box?"

Li Ye had brought home a whole box of exam papers from the Second Grain Store, and now Li Juan hadn’t even grasped the simplest ones yet—already eyeing the rest.

Li Ye ruffled her hair and said: "Sure, you can—but don’t rush. You don’t plan to enter university at fifteen, do you?"

Before Li Juan could answer, Zhao Meiwen chimed in: "The University of Science and Technology has a gifted child program—eleven-year-olds are accepted, let alone fifteen."

"Heh~"

Li Ye smiled: "Unless necessary, don’t mix with geniuses—it’s demoralizing."

In 1978, the University of Science and Technology admitted a student surnamed Xie, only eleven years old—he was the idol of all young scholars today.

But Li Ye thought Li Juan and Zhao Meiwen were ordinary kids; they’d be better off living ordinary lives.

At that moment, Li Ying, half a head shorter than Li Juan, timidly approached and asked Li Ye: "Brother, what about me? Which papers should I study?"

Li Ye chuckled: "You haven’t even started junior high yet! No rush."

Li Ying pressed: "I’ll be in junior high soon—I want to do exams too!"

Li Ye had to explain: "Before junior high, go play with your friends. Once you’re in junior and senior high, there’ll be no time for play."

Li Ying looked downcast, gazing longingly at the papers on the table.

Then Li Juan snapped: "If you don’t want to play, help Mom and me with the chores."

"."

"I—I’ll go play with Xiumei and the others!"

After arranging Li Juan and Zhao Meiwen’s studies, Li Ye slung his backpack and picked up two large bags, stepping out of his room.

Master Huo was smoking and chatting with Li Kaijian in the courtyard. Seeing Li Ye, he hurried over to shoulder the bags and load them onto the Dongfeng truck outside.

Li Ye had decided to head to Jingcheng a week early and hadn’t told Li Dayong, Hu Man, or anyone else—so only his aunt and family were here to see him off.

"Send us a telegram once you arrive. If there’s an emergency, call your grandfather—I’ll ride my motorcycle straight over."

Li Kaijian, the father who’d often whipped Li Ye, felt a sudden pang of grief seeing his son finally leave home.

Li Mingxiang handed Li Ye a slip of paper: "Here—this is the address of your uncle’s comrade. He’s already written to him; if you need help, you can ask him for advice."

Li Ye’s grandmother, Wu Juying, her eyes red, clung to her grandson with reluctance.

As for Han Chunmei, she could only stand on the periphery—she couldn’t even get close.

"Alright, I get it—I’ll send a telegram even if I lose a single hair."

Li Ye waved cheerfully to everyone, smiled at his grandfather standing at the main door, then turned and climbed into the truck.

Only after the Dongfeng truck had vanished down the road did Wu Juying turn and berate Li Zhongfa.

"What good is being a bureau chief if you won’t even send your grandson off to Jingcheng? Kaijian wants to go, and you won’t let him—"

"You say you won’t get special treatment for a sleeper ticket, but why don’t you say you got a ride in a car because of your grandson?"

"."

Li Zhongfa had been steeling himself, stoically seeing his grandson off—then out of nowhere, he got yelled at, leaving him stunned for several seconds.

Then he muttered: "A true man seeks his destiny far from home. Li Ye’s old enough—you’re still coddling him. When I was fifteen, I joined the army, and I didn’t..."

"You joined the army at fifteen? Why don’t you admit you peed your pants at fifteen? Why don’t you admit you nearly died out there?"

"You—you’re crying over what?"

Li Zhongfa was furious, but seeing his wife suddenly burst into tears, he couldn’t yell back.

He’d raised this grandson for nearly twenty years—his wife holding back tears in front of him was already more than enough.

As for his own first battle, when he’d peed his pants...

What was so shameful?

A whole group charged screaming, comrades falling all around him—he had no rifle, just two grenades.

Just getting close enough to throw them was enough—so what if I peed my pants?

Who has the right to laugh at me?

Everyone who had the right to laugh at me is dead.

Li Ye felt no sadness at leaving home—he felt as free as a bird let loose from its cage.

The Dongfeng 140 sped smoothly along the asphalt road toward the provincial capital, leaving Master Huo both reluctant and proud.

"Xiao Ye, your driving’s good enough to graduate—you’re the cleverest kid I’ve ever taught."

"Master Huo, don’t flatter me—I only learned because I followed you. Otherwise, just practicing the hand-crank alone would’ve taken me half a month."

In 1982, driving students started with hand-cranking—like a tractor, using a long metal crank to manually start the truck from the bumper.

If you didn’t handle it right, the crank would snap back and bruise your palms.

If you had a cruel instructor, he’d turn the key off while you cranked below—you’d crank for three hours and still couldn’t start it.

Then he’d turn the key, step out, demonstrate—and with one easy crank, the engine roared to life.

You’d get screamed at from head to toe, yet still think your instructor was awesome.

The engine was already hot from your cranking, nearly smoking—of course his single crank worked!

"Xiao Ye, you say that—who’d let a literary star like you crank? Only I’d take you as a student—I could brag about it for years! Hey hey hey, brakes!"

On the narrow road, two figures suddenly appeared—still far off, but Master Huo still told Li Ye to slow down.

Li Ye tapped the brake, preparing to pass, but realized the two were waving at him—and he recognized them.

It was Han Chunlan, Han Chunmei’s younger sister, and her husband Niu Dali.

Li Ye slowed to a stop, leaned out the window, and asked: "You two want a ride?"

"No no, we’re not hitching a ride."

Han Chunlan ran over, smiling, and handed Li Ye a small box.

"I heard you were leaving today, so I wanted to give you something—don’t refuse it!"

"Why are you giving me gifts? No, no, I can’t take it," Li Ye quickly declined.

Han Chunlan’s face flushed awkwardly, her hands fidgeting.

Li Ye reluctantly took the box and smiled: "You really don’t need to spend money on this..."

Inside the box was an electronic watch.

In 1982, electronic watches were still novel—mostly smuggled goods from the south.

Li Ye picked it up, inspected it, and asked: "Where’d you buy this? How much?"

Han Chunlan smiled: "I saw it at the market—it’s not expensive."

"How much is ‘not expensive’?" Li Ye grinned. "Five yuan? Ten?"

"."

Han Chunlan and Niu Dali stared blankly, utterly embarrassed.

Li Ye probed: "Twenty?"

Han Chunlan shyly held up three fingers, silent.

"Holy shit—is this that profitable?"

Li Ye couldn’t help cursing.

This thing probably cost a few jiao to make—and they sold it to farmers for thirty yuan? Their hearts are pitch-black.

You think this is a mechanical watch?

Even when I traded clothes, I only dared to mark up by one hundred percent.

"Alright, I’ll take the watch," Li Ye tucked it away and said to Han Chunlan: "But next week—go talk to Xiao Qiu."

"Xiao Qiu’s quick-witted—if you have questions or needs, consult him."

Li Ye never considered asking Han Chunlan to return the watch—that would’ve been a slap in the face.

He remembered a shy, earnest colleague from his past life.

That colleague was a tech guy who finally got smart and gave his boss a gift—only to give him a fake one.

The boss publicly returned it in front of everyone, humiliating the tech guy on the spot—so cruel.

They meant well—why be so heartless?

The Dongfeng truck drove off, leaving Niu Dali furious on the roadside: "I’m going to find that scammer—he ripped us off!"

"Why look for that scammer now? We need to find Xiao Qiu."

"Find Xiao Qiu?" Niu Dali frowned. "Didn’t he say we should go next week?"

"You’re a fool—wait until Li Ye’s spoken to Xiao Qiu, then go and build rapport—won’t that be different?"

Han Chunmei pushed her cart and walked off, ignoring her foolish husband.

Niu Dali silently followed behind, and after a long while asked, “What do you think Li Ye will say to Xiao Qiu?”

“Say what? You’re always envious of Xiao Qiu’s clothing business—what else could Li Ye possibly say to her?”

“No way!”

Niu Dali widened his eyes in disbelief. “Li Ye just talks to her, and she’ll give us money?”

In Niu Dali’s eyes, Xiao Qiu’s clothing business was as easy as opening her arms to scoop up cash.

“Hmph~”

Han Chunmei sneered, “Haven’t you ever heard ‘When the rooster crows, even the dogs rise to heaven’? Li Ye’s words now aren’t what they used to be!”

“.”

Niu Dali scowled. “Why are you talking like that? Who’s the rooster? Who’s the dog?”

Han Chunmei laughed and scolded, “I marry a rooster, I follow the rooster; I marry a dog, I follow the dog—who’s the rooster? Who’s the dog?”

In August, it wasn’t peak season for China Railway, but the provincial capital’s train station was still crowded.

Li Ye protected his two large suitcases, squeezed through the crowd, and finally reached the platform, exhaling in relief.

He’d asked Ma Rui in the provincial capital to buy him a sleeper ticket—once on the platform, he wouldn’t be jostled anymore.

Ma Rui, inspired by Li Ye, had started dealing in black-market tickets; he always had tickets on hand and was no longer the blustering nobody who made big promises he couldn’t keep.

The train from Shanghai arrived at the station; Li Ye boarded and found his carriage, discovering four others already inside.

The hard-sleeper carriage had three tiers; each compartment held six people. Li Ye’s ticket was the lower bunk on the left.

As Li Ye placed his luggage, the four others in the carriage quietly sized him up.

Especially the girl on the middle bunk on the left—after glancing at Li Ye twice, she stared fixedly at him.

Li Ye was startled. Even if I’m good-looking, do you need to stare like that?

It’s making me kind of embarrassed.

After stowing his luggage, Li Ye lay down on his lower bunk and pulled out two books Dong Yuejin had given him: The Art of Polishing Time.

These were works by two members of the Writers’ Association; according to Dong Yuejin, both had lent a hand during his own admission review.

Though the real reason was that Li Ye was the first to dare negotiate money with publishers, acting as the pioneer and earning them a favor in return.

But Li Ye couldn’t afford to be careless—if he ever met them again and didn’t even know their writing style, wouldn’t that offend them?

But as soon as Li Ye lay down, the girl on the middle bunk above poked her head out, leaning against the bunk’s edge to keep watching him.

“Hss~”

A warning prickled in Li Ye’s mind.

It’s 1982—do boys now have to learn to protect themselves when traveling?

No way.

This isn’t forty years from now.

But thinking of Ning Caichen from centuries ago, Li Ye decided caution couldn’t hurt.

The girl on the middle bunk wasn’t as beautiful as Xiao Qian, but she was still quite striking—if she swapped her glasses for a different style and adjusted her hairstyle, she’d be a textbook seductive glasses girl.

A boy with weak willpower would find it hard to resist.

Amitabha, let no trouble arise.

Sure, her face looks fine—but how do you know what her body looks like beneath the sheets? Are her arms and legs pale and slender?

Or are they covered in black scales, a long serpent?

In 1982, there were plenty of cases where a single cigarette ruined a man’s fortune!

(End of Chapter)