Chapter 178: I

Jiang Xiaoyan and Han Xia were much more generous than Wen Leyu.

After Wen Leyu opened the door, they rushed into Li Ye's bathroom and were instantly stuck, unable to tear themselves away.

But they didn't ask Li Ye to wait outside in the yard; after locking the bathroom door, they let Li Ye and Wen Leyu indulge themselves.

It was indeed indulgence—Li Ye was combing Wen Leyu's hair, no, designing her hairstyle.

Li Ye had given Wen Leyu a catfish-head style.

"What do you think of this hairstyle? Your face is small, and a ponytail looks great on you, but if you let a little hair hang down on both sides, it'll soften your sharpness and make you seem gentler."

Wen Leyu didn't even look in the mirror; she pouted and said, "Where am I sharp? I've never once raised my voice at you."

Li Ye quickly replied, "Yes, yes, you're plenty gentle with me—but others are always afraid of you!"

Wen Leyu scoffed, "Then let them stay afraid. It saves a lot of trouble."

"."

"Fine! Then I'll just give you a simple comb-through and a mid-ponytail, okay?"

"."

"You can take your time combing—I'd like to enjoy it too."

Wen Leyu narrowed her eyes, like a lazy cat, savoring the caresses on her neck and scalp, utterly blissful.

Today's gathering of the eight-person group was poorly attended.

Hu Man didn't come; Jiang Xiaoyan said she'd joined the student union and was swamped—either coordinating for the upcoming New Year's Eve party or handling bulletin boards and other tasks.

Li Dayong didn't come either; he said he'd made plans with some classmates to climb Xiangshan, though Li Ye wondered what there was to climb in December.

But when Li Ye heard from Fu Yingjie that there were female classmates going, he was quite pleased.

The best way to forget someone is to fall for someone new.

At least, temporarily.

Though two people were missing, Jiang Xiaoyan's two pots of dishes were completely finished.

Children of this era seemed to always lack grease in their stomachs; Li Ye watched Jiang Xiaoyan eat three full bowls of rice, then go back for a fourth, utterly baffled by how elastic her small belly could be.

After lunch, Jiang Xiaoyan nervously approached Li Ye.

Li Ye smiled. "You look like you've got something you're too shy to say to me? Come on—we're close enough to talk about anything."

Jiang Xiaoyan gave a nervous laugh, fidgeting with her toes. "The other day, Peng Ge asked if I'd like to be the promotion team leader for Xicheng Department Store. I just wanted to ask—am I qualified?"

Li Ye didn't know about this, so he asked carefully: "What does a promotion team leader do? How many days a week? Who's in the team? Will it affect your studies?"

Jiang Xiaoyan had clearly prepared her answer. "The promotion team only works one day a week—Sunday."

"Peng Ge said everyone on the team are temporary workers—either students working part-time or retired workers. I've been dealing with these people these past few days."

"My studies aren't affected—I should get a second-class or even first-class scholarship this year."

"Then why ask me? You're definitely qualified," Li Ye said with a smile. "Jin Peng isn't someone who promotes people based on favoritism. If he says you're fit, you are. If you weren't, he wouldn't push you just because you're from the same hometown."

"Besides, in my view, this kind of social practice is more grueling than joining the student union—you've already stepped ahead into society."

Jiang Xiaoyan bit her lip and smiled shyly.

She lowered her head and suddenly asked Li Ye: "Do you think I'm power-hungry or money-obsessed?"

"I don't think that," Li Ye said seriously. "Exchanging effort for reward is natural—how can that reflect your character? And you don't need anyone's permission for this."

Jiang Xiaoyan lowered her head and slowly pulled a letter from her pant pocket.

"I'm not money-obsessed. I just want to save up to take my mom to Beijing, let her eat a proper Beijing roast duck, taste the local snacks."

"But I'm afraid that when she comes, she'll find out I'm a temporary worker and feel ashamed—she might get angry."

Li Ye finally understood the root of the problem.

He took the letter from Jiang Xiaoyan's hand, opened it, and froze.

The paper was covered with messy, turtle-crawling Chinese characters and numbers: male, female, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, Beijing, Aviation University, and more.

These crooked characters were worse than a primary school student's writing, yet they pressed through the paper—as if the writer had poured every ounce of strength into the pencil.

At the bottom of the letter was a neat line of script: When Mom learns all the characters, I'll come to Beijing to see you.

Li Ye realized—the handwriting on the paper was Jiang Xiaoyan's mother's, and that final line was written for her by someone else. Her mother was coming to Beijing to see her.

For parents left behind, the longing for their children who've traveled far is even heavier than the children's homesickness.

"I think your mom won't be angry. If you're still unsure, we can hide it from her,"

Li Ye folded the letter and returned it to Jiang Xiaoyan. "When your mom arrives in Beijing, we'll borrow Peng Ge's car—I'll be your driver for a day and take your mom to see the Great Wall, the Forbidden City, and Xiangshan."

Jiang Xiaoyan seemed to shed a burden, shaking her head. "No need. I can handle it myself—I know all the bus routes in Beijing."

"I'm not giving you a free ride," Li Ye grinned. "Charge me 1. yuan. I used to drive for the school—my rate was 1. yuan a day."

Jiang Xiaoyan suddenly understood, and slowly nodded with a smile.

"I'll cover you for two days—three yuan and twenty fen."

After lunch, Hu Man arrived, and Han Xia happily suggested going out for a stroll.

Everyone, like country bumpkins entering the city, wandered aimlessly through Beijing's streets and alleys, laughing and playing for hours over every little novelty they spotted.

Li Ye felt a pang of nostalgia. Since arriving in Beijing, he'd worried that after scattering to four different universities, each would form new circles of friends,

and the tight bond among the eight-person group would gradually weaken over time, eventually dwindling to phone calls and letters exchanged only rarely.

But now, things were far better than he'd expected.

The experience at the Second Grain Store was an indelible mark in all their hearts—they were actively preserving this precious friendship, hoping it would never fade.

For dinner, they ate what was claimed to be authentic Beijing fried sauce noodles outside.

But the classmates all complained they weren't full, criticizing Beijing restaurants for being too small and not as satisfying as those on Dongshan.

As they prepared to return to their respective schools, Jiang Xiaoyan suddenly asked Li Ye: "Do you think if my mom opened a noodle shop in Beijing, it'd work?"

"."

Li Ye was both astonished and moved.

This girl, who'd suffered since childhood, was planning to bring her mother to school with her!

When Li Ye and Wen Leyu returned to campus, they hadn't yet made it to their usual lakeside stroll when they saw Jin Peng squatting under a streetlamp by the southern gate.

"Peng Ge, why are you waiting here?"

"Do you have to ask? I'm waiting for you!"

Jin Peng stood up, shaking his numb legs, and nodded politely to Wen Leyu.

Wen Leyu smiled back, then whispered a greeting to Li Ye and headed back to the girls' dorm.

Jin Peng blocking the gate meant something urgent.

The two brothers found a quiet spot, and Li Ye finally asked what was wrong.

"Yesterday afternoon, I got a notice. I didn't think much of it, but today a tax official I know came by and told me some things—I couldn't make sense of it alone, so I had to come to you."

"What notice?" Li Ye asked.

"This one."

Jin Peng handed Li Ye a printed notice, bearing the official seal of Xiushui Street.

It contained only a few lines: Notify Pengcheng Factory No. 7 to report to the street office on Monday morning for a funding meeting regarding Xiushui Street's commercial renovation.

"I thought our little shop on Xiushui Street was too insignificant next to big organizations—tomorrow's just a formality, a number to fill."

Jin Peng said, "But today, the tax official brought a banker along and said that based on our tax payments this year, we qualify for a loan—the amount nearly scared me to death."

"This commercial renovation is partially funded by the state, and the rest comes from unit contributions. The amount you contribute determines your share of the new shops and stalls. Do you think we should join in?"

Li Ye listened calmly, but his mind was churning.

Xiushui Street commercial renovation? Wasn't this the future Xiushui Market?

Li Ye remembered the official renovation of Xiushui Market was supposed to happen in 1984—over a year away!

So was the process from meeting to actual construction really going to take over a year?

Or had his own butterfly wings finally triggered a chain reaction?

"I heard something else," Jin Peng lowered his voice. "There's a guy named Wen Guohua on the Xiushui Street renovation team. Xiao Ye—you know who I mean, right?"

Li Ye knew.

Back when he'd saved Huang Gang on Xiushui Street, he'd stabbed a dozen hoodlums—and Wen Guohua had stepped in to settle the aftermath.

At the time, Wen Guohua had driven Li Ye back to campus and asked his opinion on Xiushui Street. Li Ye had said some things about "standardized management benefiting the country and people."

Now it was clear—this was probably his fault.

So Li Ye said: "Go tomorrow. If you can get in, grab as much as you can—don't be afraid of overextending."

Jin Peng hesitated, rubbing his scalp hard. "Xiao Ye, since last year we've saved only a few million.

Our cash on hand? Maybe two million at most. If we follow your advice and don't hold back, we'll have to take out a loan."

"Then take the loan. Borrow as much as they'll give—ten million, a hundred million. If they dare offer it, we'll take it."

"."

Jin Peng gaped, then after a long pause said: "Xiao Ye, loans aren't easy. Interest piles up daily. The interest on ten million... you really think this renovation will pay back?"

"Trust me, Peng Ge. Xiushui Street is a golden goose. Pour in any amount—it'll all come back."

Today's chapter is short, but it's late—I'll add a thousand words tomorrow.

Thank you to reader "Weiwenhua?" for the tip.

(End of Chapter)