Chapter 142: Sometimes, Foolish People Are Kind of Cute

"Young brother, you're clearly inexperienced in the world!"

Old Duo squinted, exhaled a slow smoke ring, and cast a cold glance toward Li Ye.

Li Ye wasn't fazed by such tricks—what kind of vision could you have, showing off a box of old Zhonghua cigarettes?

Jin Peng smiled, spat his cigarette onto the ground, and crushed it under his toe.

"So you're the one who wants to take all our goods?"

Jin Peng spoke calmly: "My men told me today—you want to buy on credit? That's problematic. We don't do credit."

Old Duo snapped: "Rules are made by people. When you enter a village, follow its customs. Besides, your behavior today doesn't look like a state-run unit's conduct!"

Jin Peng chuckled: "Enough of this talk, brother. No money, no deal. Why not go back, find someone who can actually decide?"

Old Duo froze, then growled: "What? You look down on me?"

Jin Peng shook his head: "Not at all. I just noticed the two men behind you—they're barely holding back. Seems like they've got something to say."

Li Ye, watching from the side, was surprised—he'd already sensed something off about Old Duo's two men, but hadn't expected Jin Peng to notice too.

The two men had classic southern features—not just sharp eyes, but an air completely different from the others.

The group around Old Duo oozed thuggishness, but these two clearly looked like businessmen.

Jin Peng had been in Beijing for days and had picked up a few rumors: over a year ago, southern apparel and department stores had entered Beijing; eighty percent of the goods on Xiushuijie came from the south. These two were likely the hidden bosses.

"Pfft~"

Old Duo smiled, turned to the two men: "Boss Hou, they don't trust me! You got something to say?"

Boss Hou chuckled: "They're just joking. Boss Duo's got a big business—ten or twenty thousand yuan? That's pocket change."

Old Duo turned back, his arrogance swelling as he glared at Jin Peng.

Did you hear that? Ten or twenty thousand—pocket change.

But Jin Peng gave a awkward smile: "Ten or twenty thousand? You're joking. If you don't have two or three million, don't even talk to us about bulk orders."

"Cough cough cough cough!"

Old Duo choked on his smoke, coughing violently, eyes rolling skyward.

Boss Hou couldn't help laughing: "I've been to Pengcheng many times—I've never heard of a 'Garment Factory No. 7.' How many employees do you have? Two or three million in monthly sales? Come on!"

Jin Peng was dead serious: "We don't have many employees—maybe ten thousand. If you're serious, bring the money. If you don't have that much, minimum order is two hundred pieces. Price negotiable."

Everyone around Old Duo rolled their eyes, then burst into laughter.

A ten-thousand-person factory would open a retail shop on Xiushuijie? At discount prices? This guy's bragging so hard he blew off a cow's leg and exposed the truth.

But clearly, Jin Peng's stance was firm: no money, no deal.

"Alright then, let's see who wins."

Old Duo and his crew left, laughing and joking, as if it meant nothing.

But Ma Qianshan said: "Brother, I'm not going back tonight. I'll stay at the shop. Tomorrow, bring Tan Min over for two days—we need to be ready for anything."

Jin Peng nodded: "I'll send him over tonight. You keep watch. We'll bring back some food for you."

Jin Peng led the way, taking Li Ye and Wang Qiang to a nearby alley for dinner.

There was a family-run restaurant they'd eaten at several times recently.

"Boss, got any dishes left?"

"Not much. Take a look—if you don't like it, go elsewhere."

"It's this late—what's there to pick and choose? Just give us four or five dishes, and pack up one more to take away."

The boss beamed: "Got it. Wait a sec."

It was nearly nine at night; if not for one remaining table of customers, the family restaurant would've closed. Yet here came more customers who didn't care about prices.

Hmm, tonight's earnings would be a few extra yuan at least.

"Hey, eat slow—if you need more, just call!"

Soon, the boss brought out the dishes with a smile—service was decent.

But as soon as he turned, he snapped at the other table: "Hey, Gangzi, drink enough? Go home already. Don't drag this out."

The other table had three men; one of them stuck his neck out: "What? You think I owe you for the booze? You're kicking me out?"

The boss sneered: "You've got money for booze today. What about tomorrow? The day after?"

"Gangzi, I've watched you grow up. Don't get mad if I say it bluntly—last month you fought with that kid from Duo's crew, and the day before yesterday you lit a firecracker for Heng San. Don't you know business thrives on harmony?"

"Go home, talk to your dad. Get yourself a factory job."

"Uncle Cui, do you think I want to hawk on the street? My dad's not even fifty—how can I take his spot?"

Gangzi, stung by Cui's words, looked wounded.

Cui twisted his mouth and walked toward the kitchen.

"If you've got ability, you can retire at forty and let your kid take over. You two? Hmph."

Jin Peng smiled at Li Ye, who nodded. Jin Peng picked up a bottle of liquor and a dish, then walked over.

The three men's table had only two dishes, and both bottles of baijiu were nearly empty.

Jin Peng's nature suited the streets—he quickly struck up a conversation with them.

"You ask what 'lighting the firecracker' means? You know what 'fake goods' are? That Heng San's selling foreigners' old clothes to steal our customers. He thinks foreigner's shit smells sweet—who else should we light it for?"

"Boss Duo? Even his name 'Duoxing' is too grand to be called 'Boss.' Hey, who are you?"

Gangzi, half-drunk, only now remembered to ask Jin Peng's identity.

The moment Jin Peng answered, he exploded like a lit firecracker.

"So it's you guys causing trouble today? You sell real factory goods at 20% off? Are you trying to kill us? You've got units and salaries—we don't!"

Jin Peng returned, face flushed, gave Li Ye a sheepish smile, and buried his head in his meal.

Li Ye ate with a smile, not taking it seriously.

Wang Qiang, however, grew angry hearing their curses—but seeing neither brother move, he swallowed his rage.

After eating, the boss kicked Gangzi out.

The two groups left one after the other, heading toward the alley mouth—but when they were still dozens of meters away, Li Ye suddenly stopped.

"Turn back."

Jin Peng froze, looked toward the alley entrance, and his expression hardened.

Outside the alley, a streetlamp cast light on the ground—revealing moving shadows.

Human shadows.

Jin Peng and Li Ye immediately turned back—but at the other end of the alley, over a dozen men were rushing toward them.

"Strange—this area's the embassy district."

Li Ye couldn't believe it—by 1982, things had sunk this low? People dared to cause trouble here?

But as soon as he spoke, he saw Gangzi's face turn pale—he bolted toward Cui's restaurant.

"Uncle Cui! Open the door! Quick!"

Gangzi pounded on the door, but Cui acted as if he heard nothing.

"Little Ye, I'll boost you up the wall."

Jin Peng reacted instantly—he and Wang Qiang crouched, interlocked their hands, and let Li Ye step on them.

Li Ye leapt, grabbed the three-meter-high wall, hung upside down, and pulled Jin Peng up, then Wang Qiang.

They couldn't risk assuming these men weren't after them.

One man against ten? Only possible under specific conditions—like blocking a narrow doorway.

If surrounded by twenty men? Forget it. You really think a spinning kick can knock down a whole crowd?

Are you watching a fantasy drama?

The men at the alley entrance had rushed in—and saw Li Ye's group climbing the wall. They were taken aback.

"Don't look where you shouldn't. Close your eyes. Don't cause trouble."

The dozen men surged past under Li Ye's feet, swiftly knocking Gangzi and his companions to the ground.

"Go!"

Jin Peng jumped down first, caught Li Ye and Wang Qiang, and sprinted toward the alley mouth.

Judging by the weapons in their hands, tonight's incident wouldn't be small—Gangzi's group…

But before Li Ye's trio had even left the alley, a shrill voice called out behind them.

"Brother! Please call the police station! I'll repay you a thousandfold—I'm Huang Gang!"

Li Ye and Jin Peng both hesitated, slowing down.

Wang Qiang stopped dead.

Their hesitation caused eight or nine of the men to break off and charge toward them.

Then, through the gap in the crowd, the three saw Gangzi's situation.

Two men lay motionless. Gangzi shielded his head, desperately protecting his brothers—but he couldn't hold out much longer.

Li Ye felt a toothache, his temples throbbing.

It wasn't that Li Ye had weak nerves—anyone seeing this would react the same.

Wang Qiang's blood boiled—he shouted: "Stop! You'll kill someone!"

"Fuck! Outsiders meddling!"

Jin Peng rolled his neck and asked Li Ye: "Go?"

Li Ye looked at Wang Qiang, then stepped back two paces.

There, someone had piled debris—Li Ye grabbed two sticks, tossed one to Jin Peng.

Li Ye understood the principle of "mind your own business," but would Wang Qiang leave now?

Maybe Li Ye could drag Wang Qiang away, but would he regret it later?

Was a proper transmigrator really no better than a local who grinned like an idiot? To ignore the loss of life?

Before the words had barely left his mouth, the two senior brothers had grabbed their sticks, and Wang Qiang was already clashing with the Qiba men.

Two went down with two sharp blows; Wang Qiang took one hit himself.

But that was the only one he took.

Two wooden sticks lunged forward, as sharp as bayonets, piercing one after another without effort.

In less than ten seconds, Qiba men lay sprawled at the alley entrance, leaving the group at the restaurant's door stunned.

Then, like poking a hornet's nest, they charged forward with wild shouts.

At this moment, Li Ye finally understood the value of his grandfather's teachings—Li Zhong had insisted he train in bayonet combat since childhood, and now it proved decisive.

Two fists cannot fight four hands, but a single wooden spear could strike like a coiling dragon.

Stabbing, thrusting, lifting—professionals beating amateurs was truly effortless.

When only a few remained standing, both sides finally calmed down.

A man in a striped shirt stepped forward and said, "What's your deal, brothers?"

Jin Peng said without expression, "Leave a little room, and you'll have an easier path later. Give them a way out."

The striped-shirt man laughed bitterly. "Tens of thousands in grudges? And you want to leave room?"

Jin Peng narrowed his eyes. "Are you Heng San?"

The striped-shirt man froze, then narrowed his eyes to study Jin Peng—and the young man behind him.

He'd seen from behind: these three were dangerous, especially the tall, thin one—who'd toppled over a dozen men with just a wooden stick. Too eerie.

Heng San guessed: this was military bayonet technique.

And after the fight, the young man had been shielded by the other two.

What did that mean?

Looking back at the fallen Huang Gang and others, Heng San felt a chill—after the rush of adrenaline, regret usually followed deep and heavy.

"Fine. We'll give these brothers some face. Let's go!"

More than twenty men took ages to drag themselves out of the alley, supporting each other.

Just as they stepped out, another group waited outside.

Heng San bit back his anger. "Brother Duo, who are you waiting for?"

Brother Duo waved a hand, peered into the alley, and whispered, "Ran into a hard one?"

Heng San saw something, sneered, "Hard or not—why don't you go in and find out?"

"Hmph~"

Brother Duo grunted, then led his men away without looking back.

Street thugs must have sharp eyes—or they'd end up like Heng San: losing face and dignity both.

Li Ye drove like a madman to the nearby hospital, nearly shaking the sour bile out of Jin Peng's stomach.

At that moment, Jin Peng realized: when it came to reckless driving, he was no match for Li Ye!

Four men carried the two injured into the emergency room, and were immediately scolded by doctors and nurses—harshly.

Doctors and nurses hated brawl victims: full of trouble, and often penniless.

Huang Gang had no money. The restaurant owner was right—he couldn't afford alcohol in two more days.

But in this era, doctors scolded but didn't demand deposits or signatures; they treated first, even if the patient had no cash.

"I'll call someone to bring money."

Huang Gang borrowed the hospital phone and called for a long time. Li Ye could hear the other end growing impatient—Huang Gang had asked them to go to Beier Tiao Alley, and it was late, likely a long trip.

Li Ye patted Huang Gang's shoulder. "You. Get checked."

Huang Gang shook his head. "I'm fine. Not a thing wrong."

Li Ye shook his head. "No. You're not."

"."

Huang Gang stared blankly for a few seconds, rolled his eyes, and collapsed to the floor.

An hour later, a woman in her forties and a girl of eighteen or nineteen arrived on a broken bicycle.

First came a misunderstanding, then a flood of apologies.

"Sorry, sorry! Just now I—I'll kneel to you!"

The mother and daughter were Huang Gang's mother and sister. Seeing his condition, they burst into tears and screamed to fight Li Ye and the others.

When Huang Gang woke up and explained, they were utterly embarrassed.

Li Ye quickly steadied the woman and nodded toward Wang Qiang. "If you want to thank someone, thank my brother!"

The mother and daughter looked gratefully at Wang Qiang.

And Wang Qiang, who had been so brave moments ago, now grinned awkwardly.

"No thanks, no thanks... hehe."

A fool, sometimes, is kind of lovable.

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(End of Chapter)