Chapter 236: You Called Me Auntie—Now Act Like One

"I was rescued by the guerrillas, spent over half a year recovering, and you both know how dire the situation was in 1941 and 1942—the guerrillas sacrificed greatly to protect me."

"After I recovered, I considered rejoining my old unit, but the units had scattered, and that guerrilla unit was also in dire straits, with morale crumbling."

"When I was rescued, I carried several captured rifles, so naturally I was seen as a core member—if I'd left, the unit would've truly dissolved. They cared for me for over half a year and even lost a soldier protecting me. We can't be heartless."

Li Zhongfa turned red under Liu Zhengqing's questioning, but he had no guilt, so he began recounting his temporary departure from the unit.

"By 1944, our small guerrilla unit was absorbed and reorganized into a platoon—I became the platoon leader."

But some people just love to stir up trouble.

Lu Huaiwater ignored everything after 1944 and seized on the earlier part to chime in: "Old Company Commander did right—your great kindness can't be repaid, you must give yourself in return. Look at your grandson—he's already so big."

"."

"Lu Huaiwater, can you stop causing trouble? You have the nerve to talk? Isn't your grandson also grown up?"

"I was wounded and reassigned to rear-area duties—we're the same. Old Company Commander, don't rush. Don't let the younger generation laugh at us."

"Cough, cough, cough~"

"Grandpas and Grandmas, I'll step out for a moment."

Li Ye stood up and walked out with a smile.

The elders' old stories—some are worth hearing, others better left unheard.

Given Li Ye's status, staying here any longer would be awkward.

Li Ye's memory of how Li Zhongfa met Li Nainai Wu Juying was vague; clearly, Li Zhongfa had never told his descendants the full story.

But now, with a little thought, Li Ye could reconstruct most of it.

Li Zhongfa believed the medic had died, then met Wu Juying in the guerrilla unit; after being nursed back to health for half a year, his cold heart was warmed again.

Then came Li Kaibian—otherwise, given the norm in those units, Li Zhongfa wouldn't have married until after victory.

Liu Zhengqing and Gao Shuyi were probably the same case, which is why Liu Zhengqing, though one year younger than Li Zhongfa, had a child a full generation behind.

But Liu Muhan's parents never left the unit—they advanced steadily, unlike Li Zhongfa, who was a company commander in 1941 but became a platoon leader by 1944.

After stepping out, Li Ye went to the front desk to settle the bill.

Since they hadn't finished eating, Li Ye asked for an estimated cost, paid a deposit, and instructed the staff not to accept payment if anyone else came to settle the bill.

But as soon as he handed the money to the server, Liu Muyang and Liu Muhan hurried over.

"Li Ye, what are you doing? How can you pay? No, no."

Uncle Liu Muyang quickly intervened, trying to snatch back the money the server had just taken.

"It's fine. When I take Grandpa to Shanghai later, I'll accept your return invitation just the same."

Li Ye smiled and blocked him, then pulled out a two-dollar bill and handed it to the server.

The server swiftly tucked away the "Jefferson," smiling at Liu Muyang: "This gentleman has already paid. You can return the favor tonight or tomorrow."

Come on—two dollars in this era could fetch sixteen or seventeen yuan on the black market, more than a week's salary. No way was she returning it.

"What are you doing? I said I'd treat."

Liu Muyang felt embarrassed, but Liu Muhan laughed: "Enough, Brother. Our big nephew is famously wealthy—don't show off in front of him."

"Haha, true. Come on, let me treat my big nephew to champagne."

Li Ye: "."

Liu Muyang pulled Li Ye to a seat in the lobby, ordered three servings of champagne and fruit tarts, and began chatting.

"Li Ye, I've always been curious about you."

Liu Muyang smiled: "Last year, my father told me and my sister about your book *Infiltration*. He said it was fascinating—I read it and found it true."

"At the time, my sister and I assumed Qichun Dao Feng was a writer skilled in espionage fiction, and that he'd surely release more espionage works."

"But when I saw your next work, it was historical war fiction. Then my father recommended *The Wind Blows North* to us."

"My sister and I made a bet: you'd switch genres again in your next book. We were going to wait for your new release to settle it—but now that we've met you, can you tell us—who won?"

"."

【Your sister won. But I won't tell you.】

Li Ye glanced at Liu Muhan, surprised—she was staring back intently, like a lottery ticket holder waiting for the draw.

So Li Ye asked curiously: "What was your bet?"

Liu Muyang held up one finger: "A motorcycle. A ladies' model."

Li Ye sucked in a breath and gave a thumbs-up, impressed.

A motorcycle in the 1980s—especially a ladies' model—could only come through imports.

Though Shanghai was a very open city, and Liu Muyang's status and profession offered many advantages, betting a motorcycle for his sister was undeniably extravagant—and deeply affectionate.

Think of how Li Ye treated his two cheap sisters, Li Juan and Li Ying—just solving their pocket money problems made them worship him like a hero. How lucky Liu Muhan must be to have such a brother.

"My next book... will be co-written with classmates from Beijing University. Still historical."

Li Ye dodged the question—he'd already started releasing *A Song of Ice and Fire*, so it wasn't his next book.

"Haha, I guessed right this time."

Liu Muyang looked plainly pleased; Liu Muhan, having lost, gave her brother a scornful glance and muttered a few indistinct words.

Li Ye's hearing far surpassed normal humans—he barely made out something like "only won once."

Li Ye asked Liu Muhan curiously: "Why did you think my next book would switch genres?"

Liu Muhan stared at Li Ye for a long moment before saying: "Your writing skill isn't superior to others', but every time you choose a genre, it's fresh and unexpected."

"So I believe you won't settle for rehashing old ideas—you'll boldly innovate, leaving those who mock you forever behind."

"."

Li Ye was startled by Liu Muhan's blunt evaluation.

Compared to writers of this era, his writing certainly couldn't be called "excellent"—back then, intellectuals buried themselves in books day and night.

As for the old Li Ye, his energy was mostly taken up by Warcraft, King of Glory, PUBG, girls, and other friends—he had little time left for writing.

So his self-assessment of his writing was merely "adequate."

But then he caught the word "mock" in Liu Muhan's statement.

Li Ye was puzzled—he began recalling whether he'd offended anyone.

But he couldn't think of a single enemy in the literary circle.

Since joining the Writers' Association, though invited repeatedly to discussions and exchanges, he'd never attended—he knew fewer than five people in the circle. How could he have enemies?

"Liu classmate, who exactly are these people mocking me?"

"Age difference matters. Remember to call me Auntie from now on."

Liu Muhan, having lost the bet, was clearly displeased.

She shot Li Ye two sharp glances before saying: "I only know two people—Chai Kenan and Wan Zhiyue."

"They said *The Wind Blows North* by Qichun Dao Feng was fantasy divorced from reality, that you were promoting feudal relics and trash."

"And they claimed your *Fires of the Deserted Soldier* wasn't even literature—ignoring battlefield realities entirely, just pure propaganda garbage."

"."

Li Ye smiled, unconcerned: "I never imagined others' opinions of me... were so harsh."

Liu Muhan smiled sweetly at Li Ye: "Aren't you going to strike back? Those two are complete nobodies compared to Qichun Dao Feng."

But Liu Muyang warned: "Li Ye, don't listen to your auntie. This happens too often—the more you respond, the more they escalate. Not worth getting angry—you'll just get worn down."

"Brother, you're wrong," Liu Muhan countered. "They're clearly using Li Ye for attention. If we don't crush them hard now, they'll get bolder and drag more people into blind following."

"."

Li Ye silently watched the Liu siblings—Liu Muyang showed mature calm, while "Auntie" Liu Muhan's eyes glowed with encouragement and goading.

【Go on! Go on! Be a man—take them down!】

But Li Ye understood well how "hype-chasers" operated. Since joining the Writers' Association, he'd declined every invitation to discussions and exchanges precisely to avoid trouble.

Especially now, with *Fires of the Deserted Soldier* involved—he had no need to step forward.

"Let's not waste energy. I got bitten by two dogs—do I bite back? If I do, I fall right into their trap."

"Rabid dogs want us to abandon our reason and compete with them over who can bark louder, who can howl the loudest."

"."

The Liu siblings stared at each other. After a long silence, Liu Muyang burst into laughter.

Liu Muhan, ever eager to stir chaos, added: "Big nephew, if you spread that line, you'll make them spit blood. Want to try?"

I'll try your damn thing—when I'm locked in a brawl with them, your dad, that big god, will step in, right?

These hype-chasers want to drag me into their muddy pit and drag me down.

You, clever young lady, want me to climb onto your "control" stage and fight their opponent—what's your real goal?

What Li Ye didn't see was Liu Muyang, laughing heartily, stepping on his sister's foot under the table.

"Muhan, don't tease your big nephew. Since he calls you Auntie, you must act like one—fulfill your duty as an elder."

Liu Muhan slowly turned her head and gave her brother a cold glance.

"Do you really need to tell me? Mind your own business."

Next chapter, late at night,

(End of Chapter)