Chapter 123: Talent

After Li Ye entered the house, Jin Peng glared at the four “Cheng Yaojin.”

Being interrupted halfway like this made anyone feel uneasy—this was Beijing, after all; if it had been Qingshui County, he’d have waved his hand and his boys would’ve already pounced, beating the bastards into learning how to behave.

“Peng Ge, why don’t I take care of them? We can’t let them mess with Xiao Ye’s business.”

Jin Peng stared at him, utterly speechless—I’m right in the middle of psychological intimidation! Are you seriously taking this seriously?

Seeing Jin Peng’s reproachful look, Wang Jianqiang licked his lips and muttered, “Fine, I’ll just spend a few days in jail—if it helps Xiao Ye, I’ll even save two grand.”

Jin Peng shook Wang Jianqiang’s shoulders impatiently. “Qiangzi, we’re not who we used to be. Not even twenty thousand is worth a fight anymore.”

Wang Jianqiang grinned. “Twenty thousand? Heh, I follow your lead, Peng Ge.”

“Sigh~”

Jin Peng sighed. “You’re just a fool blessed with luck—if it weren’t for Xiao Ye, you’d never have eaten three dishes in your life.”

Wang Jianqiang wasn’t offended at all—he kept nodding. “I used to go hungry all the time. Now I can eat as many dishes as I want.”

Obviously.

A plain vegetable costs a few jiao; a meat dish, one or two yuan. Wang Jianqiang’s now a six-figure millionaire—what can’t he afford?

At that moment, Zhang Rui and Li Ye stepped out of the house.

Zhang Rui addressed the four men: “Go home. This house has been sold to someone else. Sorry.”

The four men, who had been silent until now, were stunned—they looked at Zhang Rui, then at Li Ye.

They thought their offer was high enough—how could there be an even bigger fool?

“Mr. Zhang, we can still negotiate the price—we can even pay in foreign currency.”

“It’s not about the money. The sale contract is already signed. Leave now.”

Zhang Rui shooed them away irritably, while Li Ye waved to Wang Jianqiang, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together in a money-counting gesture.

Wang Jianqiang hurried over and took off his shoulder bag.

Li Ye pulled out ten bundles of hundred-yuan notes and casually handed them to Zhang Rui.

“Take the money. I’ll come back later to handle the paperwork.”

“Don’t worry—we’ll move out in no more than ten days.”

Zhang Rui took the money, still unable to help himself: “Bro, you’re seriously rich! I’m jealous.”

Li Ye smiled, waved goodbye, and stepped out of the courtyard—utterly carefree.

Jin Peng and Wang Jianqiang hurried after him.

Outside, Jin Peng whispered: “Xiao Ye, you didn’t wait for him to count the money?”

Li Ye shook his head. “Senior professors from outside Beijing value their reputation—they won’t cheat us out of a few thousand.”

“But that’s too fast,” Jin Peng said. “You just threw away two thousand? Our money isn’t blown in by the wind, you know—we should’ve haggled!”

Li Ye smiled. “Those two thousand? Not a penny wasted.”

The entire room was filled with old furniture—exquisite carvings, clear wood grain patterns. Even Li Ye, with no eye for antiques, knew these were valuable.

Besides, would a professor from outside Beijing use fake furniture to swindle two thousand from a stranger?

That would be a grave insult to the integrity of scholars these days.

Seeing Li Ye act like he’d just found a lost wallet, Jin Peng said nothing more—he knew who was boss. Li Ye was the rich one; if he wanted to spend, let him spend.

“Wait! Wait!”

The three brothers hadn’t gone far when someone shouted behind them—the thick accent made it clear it was the same four men.

Li Ye stopped and turned to face them as they caught up.

Wang Jianqiang clutched his bag, eyes scanning the surroundings for a brick or something to use as a weapon.

“Don’t worry—they’re here to buy the furniture.”

“Buy furniture? What do you mean?”

“I bet they wanted the house just to get the furniture.”

“.”

Jin Peng didn’t believe it—could there really be someone even more reckless with money than Li Ye?

But when the four men approached, they indeed asked to buy Li Ye’s furniture—though their method was unusual.

“Brothers, you just bought a new house—you’ll need new furniture. We deal in imported furniture—genuine three-ply board modern pieces. Trade in your old ones.”

I bought a watch last year, for fuck’s sake!

Li Ye smiled. “What’s your surname, brother?”

The man offered a cigarette. “Call me Old Ge. Young man, you’re young and successful—you must keep up with trends. We’ve got Italian goods.”

Li Ye shook his head, smiling. “Brother, do you earn in dollars? Yen? Or Hong Kong dollars?”

Old Ge froze, studying Li Ye again with renewed caution.

Foreign accent, young—definitely not one of Beijing’s established circles. How did he see through me so fast?

“Young man, you’re sharp. Will you do this deal?”

“No,” Li Ye said. “I won’t work for foreigners. I won’t let these things leave this land and disgrace our ancestors.”

“.”

Old Ge stared at Li Ye like he was an idiot.

Everyone knows foreign currency is king—now you’re talking about principles?

Are you Yue Fei? Or Wen Tianxiang?

“Since you’re not interested, we’ll meet again someday. Farewell.”

Old Ge bowed slightly to Li Ye and left with his men—one of them glanced back at Li Ye with clear resentment.

“Pfft~”

Jin Peng suddenly laughed. “Damn, these furniture peddlers think they’re tough? In Beijing, you meet all kinds.”

“They’re not simple,” Li Ye shook his head. “They’re not selling furniture—they’re trafficking antiques. Watch out for people like them—they’re far more dangerous than you think.”

Jin Peng rubbed his scalp. “We’ve met antique dealers before—never seen any this bold.”

“Oh? You’ve met antique dealers too?”

“Didn’t you?” Jin Peng said. “That lame old Song in the south district—he used to be a shopkeeper at a big pawnshop in the provincial capital, always bragging about ancient relics and acting like a mystic.”

“A few years back, they broke his leg—he had to sweep streets and clean toilets. Total misery. If I hadn’t been a kid back then, tricked into trading my steamed buns for his stories, he’d have starved to death.”

Li Ye stopped and stared hard at Jin Peng—so hard that Jin Peng, the terror of Qingshui County, grew uneasy.

“Peng Ge, what’s the most valuable thing these days?”

“.”

Jin Peng smoked in silence, utterly baffled.

How the hell should I know what you’re talking about?

Is money valuable? Is love valuable? Give me a hint!

If I say your wife’s the most valuable, will you flip out?

Wang Jianqiang suddenly spoke up: “College students are the most valuable! Hey, Peng Ge, college students are the most valuable! Hehehe.”

Jin Peng nodded quickly. “Yes, college students like Xiao Ye are the most valuable.”

Li Ye laughed bitterly—Wang Jianqiang, so innocent, had already been corrupted by society’s rot.

“Close enough. The most valuable thing these days? Talent.”

“Send a telegram. Bring Old Song to Beijing.”

Li Kaibian rode his 250 motorcycle, wearing an imported helmet, roaring down the provincial highway toward the provincial capital, ignoring Old Song’s constant begging from the back.

“Slow down, slow down—I’m gonna be shaken to death!”

“Oh my back! If you keep this up, I’m not going!”

Li Kaibian didn’t care—he sped straight to the provincial capital’s train station, then coldly glanced at Old Song. “What did you just say?”

Old Song jumped off quickly. “Heh, I said this bike’s great—fast, steady, comfortable.”

“Hmph~”

Li Kaibian snorted. “When we get to Beijing, don’t tell that kid any of your old stories. If I find out you’re lying, I’ll throw your grandson into Qingshui River.”

“No no no,” Old Song bowed low. “The top scholar is a modern student—I won’t burden him with old nonsense.”

“I still can’t believe he’s gone mad.”

Li Kaibian muttered to himself as he entered the train station.

Yesterday afternoon, the lame Old Song from the south district showed up with a telegram saying Jin Peng wanted him in Beijing and needed Li Kaibian to write an introduction letter.

What was Old Song’s past status? Li Kaibian wouldn’t just hand out letters like that. He finally called the Beijing hotel and learned it was his own son who needed him.

In just a few days, that bastard son had bought a whole house full of old furniture and wanted Old Song to appraise its value.

He’s really grown up—using his own father like a servant.

But Li Ye had arranged everything: exact train times, who to meet at the station, tickets already secured.

With no choice, Li Kaibian had to get the letter written and send Old Song off by bus.

But luck was against him—the bus from Qingshui County to the provincial capital had already left, fully booked that morning.

There were only two buses a day from Qingshui to the provincial capital, and they often had private hires—how could they add an extra one for Old Song?

So Li Kaibian had no choice but to ride his motorcycle to bring him here—and warned the old cripple not to play any tricks.

Don’t be fooled by Old Song’s current pitiful state—he was once a real badass.

Li Zhong had to start carrying a rifle at fifteen; Old Song was living the high life in the provincial capital at twenty—could name every top courtesan in every brothel.

A few years ago, Old Song nearly starved to death, dragging along his only grandchild, barely surviving those winters thanks to his smooth tongue.

Just think about how good he is at tricking people!

I was even fooled into listening to a whole story about Ximen Qing!

“Whoa~ Sleeper ticket? Old Song, you’ve really hit the big time on this trip.”

Li Kaibian, as agreed, picked up the train ticket outside the station—and saw it was a sleeper ticket.

Old Song took it with a sheepish grin, muttering inside: “When I rode trains thirty years ago, you were still wetting your bed!”

But since it’s your son and the money, I’ll let it slide.”

Old Song was too shrewd to be summoned by just one telegram from Jin Peng.

Along with the telegram, Jin Peng sent him a remittance slip—two hundred yuan, all told.

“I’ll see you onto the train, but don’t you dare break your other leg in the crush.”

Li Kaibian had a sharp tongue, but his heart was kind—he planned to guard limping Old Song through the ticket gates until he boarded.

But as soon as he entered the waiting hall, he spotted a crowd of familiar faces.

Li Dayong, Hu Man, and even Principal Chang.

No wonder the morning train was packed and left early—it was the county’s college students heading off, with the school seeing them off.

Worse still, Li Kaibian spotted his sister, Li Mingyue.

Li Mingxiang was pacing around the hall, eyes red, looking ready to bite anyone who crossed her.

“Old Song, I’ll see you here! Take this money for food and drink on the way. When you get to Beijing, try to talk sense into my son—don’t let him waste his time on frivolities. If he picks up any bad habits, I’ll—”

“I know, I know, I won’t let it happen.”

Old Song agreed eagerly, already snatching the twenty yuan from his hand.

His own grandson was nearly thirty and still unmarried—his household was broke.

Otherwise, why would an old man like Old Song risk his life, hobbling on a bad leg, just to rush to Beijing?

Li Kaibian turned to leave, but just then Li Mingyue spotted him.

“Kaibian! Kaibian! Stop right there!”

Li Mingyue sprinted over and grabbed Li Kaibian by the arm.

“Oh, sis, you’re seeing off Aiguo on the train? What time’s the train?”

“How can you even ask about your nephew? You heartless bastard!”

Tears streamed down Li Mingyue’s face.

Li Kaibian was sick of it—he’d been dreading seeing Li Mingyue these past few days.

Originally, Cui Aiguo had gotten into a junior college in the west, and the family was overjoyed.

But when Li Mingyue found out that Li Ye had “boosted” seven classmates—all into top-tier Beijing schools—she lost her mind.

A junior college in the west? Compared to a top Beijing undergraduate program? Are they even comparable?

“Why didn’t he take Aiguo? Was it because I introduced him to an ugly bride?”

Li Ye had already left for Beijing, escaping the chaos—but his own father was suffering.

For days, Li Mingyue had been coming to their house daily, causing a scene—everyone was fed up.

But Li Mingyue had forgotten how she’d once constantly held up her own child as an example, sneering at Li Kaibian and Li Ye.

Cui Aiguo studied well; Li Ye studied poorly—that was all it took for Li Mingyue to gloat to her brother countless times.

Even so, Li Kaibian and Li Zhong had mentioned twice to Li Ye: Shouldn’t you help Cui Aiguo?

But Li Ye had flatly refused.

Cui Aiguo had stayed in the village school because he was homesick—dozens of miles from town. Li Ye had no time to babysit him.

Li Kaibian owed Li Mingyue. Li Ye didn’t owe her anything.

Besides, no one had ever imagined Li Ye could actually boost so many people!

It was unbelievable!

“Sis, blaming me now won’t help. If you’ve got guts, go to Beijing and find Xiao Ye yourself. If Aiguo had ever been close to Xiao Ye, don’t you think he’d have helped?”

Li Kaibian, thoroughly exasperated, dumped the blame squarely on his son.

But Li Mingyue sobbed: “Aiguo’s gone. My son’s gone. You have to pay me back my son!”

Li Kaibian froze in alarm. “How could he be gone? He’s a grown man—where did he disappear?”

“Right here. I’ve searched everywhere.”

Li Mingyue wept and wailed, wiping her nose and tears, taking minutes to explain clearly.

After learning that Li Ye’s group of eight had all gotten into Beijing schools, Cui Aiguo became distracted, repeatedly saying he wanted to retake the exam next year and get into a better school.

But his father, Cui Zhi, was a stubborn man—he ignored his son’s pleas and ordered him to report to school immediately.

Who could guarantee he’d pass next year? A junior college was good enough. Do you think you can get a dream from Old Huai?

But today, when Li Mingyue came to see him off at the train station, Cui Aiguo vanished.

“Sis, don’t panic. Aiguo’s probably just sulking. He has nowhere to go—he’ll return to Qingshui County. Let’s check the bus station.”

Li Kaibian rode his bike back to the bus station with Li Mingyue; they split up to search.

Soon enough, Li Kaibian found him.

Cui Aiguo sat slumped in a corner of the bus station, staring blankly, muttering to himself.

“Why didn’t it work? I reported him—why wasn’t he arrested?”

“No one else in the county could solve that math paper. All eight of them solved it— isn’t that proof?”

“What’s going on? Both complaint letters did nothing. Why didn’t I write three? How did he become the top scorer in the whole province?!”

Cui Aiguo was lost in thought, mumbling, when he suddenly felt a face looming before him.

“Did you report Li Ye?”

“Uh… yeah.”

Cui Aiguo’s pupils snapped into focus—he saw the face half a meter away, and the massive palm swinging toward him.

“Slap!”

Thank you to reader “Mo Xin Qing” for the 500-coin tip, thank you to all readers for your tips, and thank you to reader “july-27th.” Thanks, brothers.

(End of Chapter)