Chapter 203: When Duty Calls (1)

On the twelfth day of the first lunar month in 1983, Li Ye had already scheduled his departure before entering Hong Kong.

Because the train ride from Pengcheng to Jingcheng took two days and two nights, he needed to return to Jingcheng before school started, and he had already arranged to meet Wen Leyu for the Lantern Festival lantern display.

But just before leaving, an "unexpected" turn occurred: Pei Wencong had arranged three direct flight seats to Jingcheng for Li Ye and the other two.

If they were traveling from Jingcheng to Hong Kong, Li Ye would have had absolutely no right to fly—but flying from Hong Kong to Jingcheng, Pei Wencong simply used his connection at Hong Kong University and got it done effortlessly.

Even Hao Jian, who had recently clashed with Pei Wencong, couldn't help asking Li Ye: "How does that guy Pei always have classmates everywhere?"

Li Ye smiled and said: "Hong Kong isn't that big. Hong Kong University students always stand out a bit more. After years of accumulation, he's got classmates all over the world."

"Now do you understand the significance of me taking the exam for Beijing University? One Hong Kong University is one network. As long as you're willing to share benefits, you get channels, you get connections."

Hao Jian pursed his lips and nodded: "Studying more really is useful. Otherwise, you're always getting bullied."

Li Ye said irritably: "Yesterday wasn't him bullying you—it was me bullying you, alright?"

Yesterday, Hao Jian and Pei Wencong had a minor dispute over clothing exports.

Pei Wencong insisted that the Hong Kong company should lead the export operations of Factory Seven in Pengcheng, claiming, "I have Hong Kong University friends in this line—they have experience and connections."

Hao Jian argued that he himself was an insider and that Hong Kong should be supporting him, using the Canton Fair to build a reputation, gain experience, and keep the profits close to home.

In the end, Li Ye made the final decision: the export business would remain under Hong Kong's control.

This decision made Hao Jian grumble and complain, accusing Li Ye of ignoring the near for the distant and failing to distinguish between inside and outside.

But Hao Jian had no idea how difficult exports were in this era—if Factory Seven in Pengcheng had taken the lead, it would have been impossible to get anything done.

"Why are you bullying me?" Hao Jian muttered again after hearing Li Ye's words. "Isn't it natural for you to bully me?"

"I just don't understand this brand thing you keep talking about. When I asked Pei Wencong, he dodged me—how am I supposed to learn from them now?"

Li Ye truly hadn't known about this, but he thought it was a good thing.

Lately, Factory Seven in Pengcheng had been making a lot of money, and Hao Jian had grown somewhat complacent—so long as clothes sold and made money, style didn't matter.

What would they use to compete when foreign brands eventually flooded in?

Also, Li Ye hoped the Chinese people's aesthetic wouldn't be overly influenced by the West.

He didn't deny that business suits with silk stockings looked good—but what about bell-bottoms?

And China had its own unique clothing elements—for example, the Zhongshan suit, which would later vanish almost entirely—he thought it was a shame.

He still remembered the kung fu emperor wearing a Zhongshan suit, dominating the Hongkou Dojo with sheer swagger.

After everyone dismissed it as old-fashioned and scorned it, Japanese school uniforms absorbed some of its elements and created beautiful stand-up collar outfits.

As for the mamian skirt and similar items, they were still a bit too ahead of their time—but extracting a bit of traditional ethnic elements should still be possible to try.

He wanted to create a brand that matched the aesthetic preferences and acceptance of the vast majority, so that when people saw the label, they'd simply like it.

And it should have the capability to stand toe-to-toe with global giants, to challenge them.

The next day, Pei Wencong saw Li Ye and the others off to the airport, waving goodbye only after they passed through ticketing and security.

Once out of Pei Wencong's sight, Hao Jian and Jin Peng seemed to suddenly relax.

Their stiff postures slumped, their previously rigid, straight-ahead gazes became lively, their stiff necks turned freely left and right, taking in everything with fresh curiosity.

"Holy cow! Coming out with Little Ye, I never thought I'd get to ride a plane—what kind of people do you think we'll be sitting next to on board?"

At thirty, Hao Jian, the factory director, now handled deals worth hundreds of thousands—but for his first flight, he still felt intense novelty.

But Jin Peng's focus was different—he didn't care who he sat next to on the plane!

"Little Ye, I heard you can drink Maotai freely on planes—is that true?"

"Don't ask me—I've never flown either. But can't you afford Maotai now?"

Jin Peng licked his lips and grinned: "But isn't the taste different? When you drink Maotai now, is it the same taste as when you drank it the first time?"

The three boarded the plane smoothly and soon realized most of the passengers around them were foreigners.

Drinking Maotai was possible—the flight attendants would pour you a glass—but smoking wasn't banned in the cabin, the ventilation system was far inferior to future planes,

the body odor from nearby passengers was strong, and the flight attendants' uniforms were nowhere near as bright as those in the future—Li Ye's overall experience was mediocre.

Li Ye closed his eyes and pretended to nap. Two hours later, he felt the plane begin to turn and circle—he knew they must be approaching Jingcheng.

But after a while, Li Ye sensed something was off.

Because the plane had been circling too long.

Was the capital airport already congested in this era?

Li Ye was puzzled, then heard a passenger by the window say: "It's snowing outside!"

Li Ye leaned over to look—and his heart sank, tension rising.

Snow itself wasn't the issue—the airport staff would surely clear it promptly—but poor visibility was a serious problem.

Back then, domestic airports had no blind-landing systems; landing in bad weather relied entirely on the pilot's courage and skill. Pilots from the Soviet Union were probably the most skilled, while those from the south—

In fact, the pilots of this era still had decent skills—the plane successfully landed at Jingcheng Airport after circling for twenty minutes.

Looking out the windows on both sides, heavy snow fell in a foggy blur, everything visible white.

"Why so much snow?"

After exiting the plane, passengers truly felt how heavy the snow was in Jingcheng—just walking down the airstair, their bodies were dusted with snow.

After clearing immigration, Li Ye learned that Jingcheng had been hit by a sudden heavy snowstorm, causing many departing flights to be delayed or canceled.

Also, heavy snow had caused severe traffic jams on the roads to the city, and there weren't enough buses—all passengers had to wait patiently and leave the airport in batches.

Li Ye waited over half an hour before following staff instructions to board a vehicle.

But as soon as he got on, he spotted three familiar faces.

One was Zhang Rui, the son of the original owner of the Zaojunmiao sihe courtyard where Li Ye now lived.

Half a year ago, when Li Ye bought his house, he'd heard Zhang Rui was going abroad—yet he didn't know why he'd delayed until now.

The other two familiar faces were Liu Muhan and Lu Jingyao, whom he hadn't seen in half a year.

They were sitting together; their school badges showed that around seven or eight others were students from outside Jingcheng.

Li Ye frowned, wanting to find a seat—but Zhang Rui spotted him and waved: "Li Ye! Li Ye! Come sit over here!"

"Oh, I'll just sit here."

"Come on, hurry over!"

Zhang Rui was too enthusiastic—Li Ye couldn't refuse and sat down.

"Li Ye, did your flight get canceled too? Why didn't I see you in the waiting area? Did you come to see someone off?"

"I didn't come to fly—I just landed. You wouldn't have seen me in the waiting area."

"You just landed?"

Zhang Rui froze, then asked: "Where did you fly in from? How did you get your ticket?"

Several students from outside Jingcheng turned to look at Li Ye—after all, at his age, he shouldn't have had the right to fly.

Li Ye remained calm: "A publisher in Hong Kong invited me for a few days of exchange. They bought my ticket on the way back."

"You came back from Hong Kong?" Zhang Rui's eyes widened in surprise, then he laughed: "Man, you're awesome! You've even written yourself abroad! No wonder your outfit looks so sharp—it must be foreign stuff!"

Li Ye slowly turned his head, equally surprised: "Abroad? How did you get that idea?"

Zhang Rui didn't catch on: "What's wrong with that?"

At that moment, Jin Peng coldly interjected: "Hong Kong is an inseparable part of our country. Don't ever say that kind of thing after you leave."

Jin Peng had a very poor impression of Zhang Rui.

His house had been listed at 8, 00 yuan—the highest price—and everything was agreed upon, money ready to be paid—then he suddenly raised it to 10, 00 yuan. Even though he included a full set of furniture, it was still a breach of trust.

As soon as Jin Peng spoke, the entire cabin fell silent.

In the 1980s, people unconsciously thought going to Hong Kong meant going abroad—Zhang Rui had simply misspoken.

Zhang Rui chuckled: "Right, right! Lucky I'm still on our own soil—I'd have no chance to correct myself otherwise."

"By the way, Little Ye, you're the most experienced—tell us about the outside world. Let us gain some insight so we won't be looked down on by outsiders."

Li Ye shook his head: "What's there to say? We're all human. Strength and weakness depend on ability. If you study harder and are more capable than them, no one will look down on us."

"This young brother speaks wisely," chipped in a man in his forties nearby: "Our unit used to import parts from Japan—we begged and pleaded, but they just gave us cold shoulders. I thought the guy was a mute.

Then last year, our own research institute broke through a new technology—suddenly, he came crawling to us, smiling, offering discounts and gifts. I asked him right then: 'Hey, you actually know how to smile?'"

"Hahaha~"

Everyone around laughed.

With this Jingcheng resident joining in, the conversation grew increasingly warm.

When they learned Jin Peng and Hao Jian had gone to Hong Kong because of Li Ye's "invitation letter," everyone turned to look at Li Ye—their gazes burning with interest.

How hard was it to leave the country back then? This young man had somehow "brought" people out—what kind of ability was that?

No wonder he'd said "it's all about ability!"

In the entire cabin, only Lu Jingyao's gaze did not rest on Li Ye.

She stared blankly out the window, desperately trying to recall the English she'd studied last night, hoping to use academic focus to block out the voices around her.

For the past half year, Lu Jingyao had studied relentlessly, often reaching a state of total detachment from the world.

But today, no matter how hard she tried, Li Ye's voice pierced her ears like needles, stabbing into her heart.

【Why was he once so ordinary, yet now, wherever he went, he became the center of everyone's discussion?】

Liu Muhan, who had come to see her off, sat beside Lu Jingyao. Seeing her face grow pale, he knew she was slipping into self-destructive obsession again.

From the moment Li Ye boarded, Liu Muhan had carefully observed him—Li Ye had glanced at Lu Jingyao only once, and barely at all.

In other words, Li Ye simply hadn't cared about Lu Jingyao at all.

But Lu Jingyao experienced a profound psychological shift due to Li Ye's appearance.

"Sigh~~"

Liu Muhan sighed, having no other option, and took Lu Jingyao's hand to offer her meager comfort and support.

She knew well that if Lu Jingyao could not overcome this psychological barrier herself, Li Ye would become her lifelong nightmare.

The long-distance bus quickly filled with passengers, but since many people were still stranded at the airport and night had fully fallen, they could only overload the vehicle—those who boarded later had to stand.

At that moment, a man in a suit suddenly stood up and shouted, making Li Ye frown.

"Everyone, show some spirit—give your seats to our international friends; young people, hold on a bit longer. Give up your seats."

Many people stood up to give their seats to others, and young people like Li Ye were the first to rise and yield their seats.

The current social climate was like this; Li Ye did not directly resist.

But when another group of passengers boarded and it came time for Li Ye to give up his seat, he refused.

Because among them, he saw Nakamura Naoto.

Nakamura Naoto also spotted Li Ye and, under the guidance of the enthusiastic man in the suit, stepped right in front of him.

"Classmate, could you please give up your seat? Show some spirit."

"What kind of spirit in our country requires me to give my seat to a chrysanthemum person?"

"."

The man in the suit, who had been preaching about "spirit" for half the ride, froze in place.

Everyone on the bus had followed his lead; those who received seats had smiled warmly at him, and he was enjoying the moment—until this kid suddenly threw him off.

The man in the suit immediately stiffened his face and demanded sternly: "Classmate, which school are you from? What class and what's your name?"

But Li Ye was even sterner, pointing directly at the man's forehead: "Which unit are you from? What's your name and position?"

"."

How could he dare say?

Every unit still had a few old revolutionaries—if this got reported, someone might come swinging a cane to beat him.

Damn it, I nearly lost my life back then—who the hell are you asking me to give my seat to?

The atmosphere inside the bus grew extremely awkward; Zhang Rui beside him couldn't help tugging Li Ye's sleeve, silently urging him not to be so stubborn.

But Li Ye told him: "Classmate Zhang, didn't you just ask me to tell you about experiences outside? Then let me tell you one."

Li Ye spoke seriously and loudly: "Within our Huājiā, gentle humility is a virtue—but once you step outside, you'll find they don't buy into your act.

Excessive humility only makes others think you're incompetent, think you're weak.

If you want respect, either achieve outstanding results or wield a strong fist—but never be humble.

Because in the Western dictionary, the strong must never yield!"

(End of Chapter)