Chapter 150: It

"Classmates, the men's 3000-meter race is about to begin. Please prepare yourselves."

"Li Ye, it's your turn—hurry up and win glory for our class."

The 1982 Peking University autumn sports meet finally began, and Li Ye's moment to shine before the entire campus had arrived.

Since the autumn sports meet is also called the "Freshman Track and Field Meet," nearly all participants were first-year students.

As a man reborn in this life, Li Ye understood clearly: if he could demonstrate strong physical fitness and exceptional talent now, he would earn four years of priority dating rights on campus.

If you don't believe it, just think back: in high school or college, do girls prefer academically gifted students—or those who excel in basketball, soccer, or track?

Dressed in a blue tracksuit, Li Ye strolled calmly to the back of the crowd, utterly unlike the other dozens of athletes, who all looked tense and green as fledglings.

"Big Brother Yi, go for it!"

Sun Xianjin ran over to the side of the track and waved his arms to cheer Li Ye on.

Li Ye smiled at Sun Xianjin and waved back, telling him not to worry.

Sun Xianjin had come to cheer for Li Ye because, in the just-concluded shot put event, He Dazhuang had placed second with a throw of 10. 3 meters.

It was an excellent result; after He Dazhuang hurled the shot beyond ten meters and roared to the sky, a campus newspaper reporter had snapped a photo, and it was rumored he stood a high chance of being featured.

Li Ye had originally signed up for the high jump, but for some reason, the high jump had been scheduled after the 3000-meter race.

This little brother of Li Ye was deeply worried—after running 3000 meters, his big brother's legs would be weak; would he even be able to jump at all?

"Pop~"

The starting pistol fired, and Li Ye strolled lazily behind the pack, glancing around the stands, searching for highlights.

【What a pity! So many girls here to train—and yet I'm taken.】

As he passed the English Department's section, Li Ye lowered his gaze, fixed his eyes forward, and silently chanted: "My little Yu is the most beautiful, my little Yu is the gentlest, my little Yu—I dare not offend."

After the first 400-meter lap, the group of dozens scattered into several clusters.

Just as Zhen Rongrong had once "threatened" Li Ye into signing up, some students had joined out of pure enthusiasm, lacking physical conditioning and technical knowledge; after just one lap, they were already leaning on their knees, panting—what was the point of continuing?

In long-distance running, arm swing is crucial: it must align with the direction of movement, not swing sideways.

As for keeping the torso slightly forward without bobbing, or driving off the calves with rhythmic force—these students knew nothing of such techniques.

And then there were the lunatics who sprinted the first lap like a 400-meter dash, nearly convincing Li Ye they were fellow power-hungry frauds like himself!

After two laps, the students with real potential had clustered into the lead group; Li Ye remained in eleventh or twelfth place.

Leading the 3000-meter race is showy—it draws many girls' eyes—but it also wastes more energy.

Unless you're certain of a huge lead or want to impress a girl, no one in their right mind would stay first the whole way!

But by now, Li Ye noticed two male runners up front cooperating well, constantly swapping positions to hold second and third, subtly pressuring the leader's rhythm.

The leader, No. 108, was a tall, slender boy; Li Ye judged his ability strong—he hadn't been rattled by the two harassers, and instead used casual bursts of speed to nearly throw them off balance.

By the end of the fourth lap, Li Ye had moved into fifth place and finally attracted many girls' glances.

There was no help for it!

The four runners ahead were all flushed, gasping, tongues almost hanging out from exertion.

But Li Ye had barely broken a sweat—could he possibly fake a grotesque, panting grimace? He was a man who cared about his dignity.

Too bad it was 1982—girls from each class only cheered for their own classmates.

If this were 2022, with Li Ye's performance, the female hooligans on the stands would already be screaming his name.

So handsome, so much stamina—baa baa baa baa.

As he passed the Economics Department's section, Li Ye finally heard cheers—but his attention was fixed on a man dressed as a postal delivery worker.

He stood beside Professor Mu Yunning, both watching Li Ye.

【Express telegram?】

But Li Ye had no time to go ask—he saw the two ahead suddenly begin sprinting.

Nearly 700 meters from the finish line, they were already sprinting.

Li Ye muttered under his breath: "You two beasts—you'll deserve to haul equipment through the wilds for the rest of your lives."

After five or six laps, based on the girls' cheers, Li Ye confirmed the two cooperating runners were from Geology, and the leader was from Physics.

In the 1980s, there was a popular rhyme: "Good girls won't marry geology men—don't believe me? Just wait for an empty bed."

Young geology students often began their careers doing fieldwork with geological survey teams.

If these two fools got their graduation evaluations to say "good at running," with a long-distance champion record in their files, hey—they'd gain a significant advantage.

In an instant, the runner who'd barely held fourth place was left behind; Li Ye, the Physics leader, and the two Geology runners all surged forward simultaneously.

Sprinting in long-distance running doesn't mean "maximum speed"—it means draining every last ounce of strength, pushing through intense physical pain to run full out.

Maybe in the final meters, your pace slows to a shuffle—but that's still a sprint.

Though other events were still underway on the track, the sudden burst of four runners charging like wild beasts instantly drew every eye.

Especially the top three—they were drenched in sweat, utterly exhausted, yet gritting their teeth, eyes blazing like madmen—utterly captivating.

In contrast, Li Ye, trailing in fourth, looked like a husky among wolves—calmly glancing left and right, even winking at Wen Leyu, making him appear absurdly relaxed.

"Hahaha! Wen Leyu, is that guy your prince on a white horse? He doesn't seem very serious!"

Wen Leyu wasn't the only one watching the English Department—many girls there knew what a "prince on a white horse" meant.

But Wen Leyu replied softly: "A man on a white horse isn't necessarily a prince—he could be Tang Sanzang. Don't call him that. He won't like it."

"."

"I don't like it either!"

"Hahahaha~"

At 200 meters to go, Li Ye grew tired of dawdling with these exhausted dogs—the two Geology runners kept blocking him, stoking his temper.

"Excuse me, make way."

Li Ye glided past them effortlessly, leaving the three gasping boys stunned.

Especially the Physics leader, who clearly had superior strength—how had he ended up facing so many scheming rivals?

Before crossing the line, Li Ye still feigned exhaustion; his time of 10: 6 meant nothing to professionals, but it was respectable among amateurs.

A PE teacher approached to speak with him, and the three behind him also wanted to chat—but Li Ye was already striding quickly toward the Economics Department stands.

That express telegram deliveryman must be looking for him—he didn't want Professor Mu to know about certain matters.

Back at the Economics stands, the deliveryman was indeed waiting for him; after signing, he handed Li Ye the telegram.

Li Ye opened it—it was from Lanhai Publishing House in Daocheng. The message was intriguing.

【Dear Brother Li Ye, Hong Kong has repeatedly telegraphed urging a prompt reply, lest adverse effects arise.】

"Heh~"

Li Ye chuckled darkly and tucked the telegram away.

Not long ago, Dong Yuejin had sent Li Ye an urgent letter, excitedly reporting that Hong Kong had agreed to reprint "Shu Feng Fei Yang," even bestowing upon Li Ye the halo of "exporting foreign exchange and bringing glory to the nation."

Then, shifting tone, he urged Li Ye to speed up writing, to build up a backlog for Hong Kong so the publisher could negotiate better prices.

But was Li Ye's long, circuitous, painstaking effort meant to help the publisher export foreign exchange?

When he'd agreed to collaborate with Lanhai on "Qianfu," Dong Yuejin's line—"We have connections in Hong Kong"—had been decisive.

So Li Ye wanted to establish ties with Hong Kong.

You send me one vague telegram, don't even clarify what's in it for me, and expect me to scramble around?

Even a donkey pulling a mill needs a handful of soybeans to keep going!

So Li Ye had replied, "Busy with studies, will inform you later," and stalled the matter.

He'd already sent four issues of "Shu Feng Fei Yang"—plenty to keep them hooked.

Let's see who blinks first!

"Is this a telegram from Lanhai Publishing House?"

Mu Yunning's question jolted Li Ye out of his smugness.

Clearly, the express telegram deliveryman had hinted something to Mu Yunning.

Mu Yunning was a beautiful, elegant woman—easily able to coax secrets from a young man.

Li Ye kept his expression calm: "Yes, Professor Mu. My submission had an issue—they explained the situation."

Mu Yunning smiled faintly, pressing: "You just submitted a manuscript, and the publisher uses an express telegram to contact you?"

A letter with eight cents' postage was the norm; an express telegram was like a satellite phone in the future.

"Heh, the situation is a bit special."

"Oh~? Special?"

Seeing Li Ye wouldn't speak, Mu Yunning didn't press further.

But when Li Ye went to compete in the high jump, she turned and left the sports field.

Peking University Library had monthly journal subscription quotas; if Mu Yunning knew it was Lanhai Publishing House, she could check—and she'd find the answer.

At the library, Mu Yunning asked a familiar librarian: "Xiao Qin, has Lanhai Publishing House released any recent historical literary works?"

Librarian Xiao Qin replied: "The only historical one is 'Shu Feng Fei Yang.' We didn't order it last month—many kept asking. We just got a few copies this month."

Mu Yunning said: "Lend me one."

"Can't lend it," Xiao Qin pointed to several students inside: "Only one left—they're all reading it."

Mu Yunning paused, nodded to Xiao Qin, then walked over and peered with the students.

When she saw the protagonist's name—"Li Tianlang"—she clenched her teeth.

【So now you're a writer, hiding it from me? What, being a cultural officer is beneath you?】

A cultural officer wasn't just about art—it included literature. Literary enthusiasts were perfectly qualified.

Several students smelled a familiar scent and turned to see Mu Yunning.

A boy with a face full of acne immediately exclaimed happily: "Hi, you like Qi Cun Dao Feng too?"

Mu Yunning smiled and said: "Not bad! It's got a bit of substance."

"A bit of substance? 'Also'?"

The boy glanced at Mu Yunning in surprise, then turned away and ignored her.

Now Mu Yunning felt puzzled, but she didn't press further and went back to ask the librarian, Xiao Qin.

"Have you read 'Shu Feng Fei Yang'? How's the author's skill?"

"Skill?" Xiao Qin paused, then laughed. "The best popular writer in the country this year—his book 'Qian Fu' sold over a million copies. What do you think of his skill?"

"'Qian Fu'?"

Mu Yunning suddenly remembered.

She was a classic literary young woman, so when she first saw Li Ye's manuscript, she had advised him to "understand the characteristics of today's mainstream literature."

But even though she barely cared for popular fiction, she'd still heard of 'Qian Fu,' which had been a huge hit recently.

And she knew well that anything that became wildly popular—whether literary or popular—must have something worthwhile about it.

Xiao Qin noticed Mu Yunning's expression change and grinned again: "I heard from a few writer pen pals that Qi Cun Dao Feng made over ten thousand yuan just in royalties. What do you think, Mu the great talent? Intrigued?"

"."

Mu Yunning then remembered how, at the start of the semester, Li Ye had used his household registration to buy a house. She couldn't help laughing.

【A ten-thousand-yuan household! Making you class cultural officer was really a waste of you.】

Thank you to reader "Aiyo Ni Ganma" for the coin reward, thank you to reader "A Yaoz" for the 500-coin reward, thank you to reader for the 500-coin reward, thank you to reader "Xu Ce" for the 500-coin reward, thank you to reader for the reward, thank you to reader "Xuan Yuan Jian Yu Wen Tuo" for the 500-coin reward, thank you to reader "Hen Shang Hong Dou" for the reward, thank you to reader "Jian Gu Tian Cheng" for the 500-coin reward, thank you all, brothers—I'm truly honored today. (*^▽^*)

(End of Chapter)