Chapter 268: Everyone, Learn to Speak Mandarin

Li Ye, accompanied by Wang Jianqiang and Li Dayong, crossed the Luohu checkpoint and was warmly welcomed by Pei Wencong.

"Mr. Li, we've been waiting for you! You must stay in Hong Kong Island for several days so I can properly entertain you."

Pei Wencong gripped Li Ye's hands tightly and shook them vigorously, as if clutching a money tree and hoping to shake down a rain of gold.

In fact, it was exactly like that.

Pei Wencong used the honorific "Mr." for Li Ye because recently, the Hang Seng Index had finally dropped to around 700 points and was experiencing violent fluctuations.

Luo Runbo sought Li Ye's advice; after analyzing the situation, Li Ye told Luo Runbo to gradually settle and harvest his gains. Pei Wencong, who had placed heavy bets behind him, had genuinely ridden Li Ye's luck.

Li Ye didn't know how much Pei Wencong had invested, but he himself had earned over seventy million Hong Kong dollars; even if Pei Wencong was cautious, he must have made several million at least.

After finally ending the handshake, Li Ye teased, "So, you bought a mansion on the peak—want me to stay longer so you can show it off?"

Hearing Li Ye's teasing, Pei Wencong didn't get angry; instead, he burst into laughter.

"Oh my, how could I possibly show off in front of Mr. Li? I simply want to fulfill my duty as a host—fully and sincerely."

"Then let's go! Take me to see your hilltop sea-view villa."

"Yes, yes, yes."

Pei Wencong hurriedly led Li Ye to the car, opened the door himself, and ushered Li Ye and the two young men inside.

After getting in the car, Li Ye said, "This Mercedes doesn't suit your status. Haven't you gotten your Rolls-Royce yet?"

Pei Wencong, sitting in the front passenger seat, turned back and smiled, "Mr. Li understands Hong Kong—Rolls-Royce isn't something you can just buy with money. But by the time you come again, I'll definitely pick you up in a Rolls-Royce."

Before BMW took over, Rolls-Royce was extremely picky—they demanded clients be "gentlemen of distinction," pushing client selection to its extreme.

Pei Wencong ran his own publishing house, later invested in Seris's Hong Kong Fenghua Clothing, graduated from HKU, and now that he had money, after some time to mature, he'd likely qualify.

But Li Ye waved his hand, "I don't care about Mercedes or Rolls-Royce—I'm more interested in the hilltop mansion and a Ferrari.

See if you can help me find one. Next time I come, I want to drive myself around."

Pei Wencong froze, then exclaimed in delight, "Mr. Li is buying property in Hong Kong? Are you planning to live here permanently from now on?"

Li Ye glanced at Pei Wencong, waved his hand noncommittally, and didn't answer.

He certainly wouldn't move his home to Hong Kong—over the next forty years, the mainland was the soaring dragon; Hong Kong was merely a scale clinging to its tail.

Yet Hong Kong's property prices were at their lowest between 1983 and 1985; Mr. Jin Yong bought Mansion No. 1 Peak Road for just 12. million Hong Kong dollars.

After living there eleven years, he sold it for 190 million Hong Kong dollars—a yearly return exceeding 150%.

Though Li Ye's abilities might yield even higher returns over those eleven years, a hilltop mansion—a fixed asset with only a few hundred units—was still worth buying one.

A Min drove the Mercedes up a narrow two-lane road.

In 1983, Victoria Peak had no cable car; ordinary people found it hard to ascend, so the surroundings were extremely private and quiet, with almost no tourists or passersby.

Li Dayong and Wang Jianqiang sat in the backseat, watching villa after villa pass by, feeling as if they'd stepped into a Hong Kong movie they'd once seen—excited and awestruck.

Li Ye smiled and whispered in Qing Shui dialect, "What's wrong? Like what you see?"

Li Dayong and Wang Jianqiang immediately sat up straight, pulling their eyes away from the window.

The sugary bullets of a corrupt society couldn't topple these steadfast successors.

Li Ye patted his brother's arm and said, "Don't rush—if you like it, we can be neighbors. Wintering here with the family isn't bad."

Wang Jianqiang and Li Dayong instantly became interested.

Li Dayong whispered, "Brother, how much does a house here cost? More expensive than a courtyard in Beijing?"

"Well, right now it's definitely a bit pricier."

Looking at the two young brothers' hopeful eyes, Li Ye bluntly gave the price: "About ten million Hong Kong dollars per unit. No need to rush—you can wait a few years."

Li Dayong: "."

Wang Jianqiang: "."

The sparkle in their eyes instantly dimmed; they stared at Li Ye with wounded expressions.

Brother, are you sure you're not just painting a pie in the sky?

Ten million Hong Kong dollars for one house?!

Are you sure the toilet isn't made of gold?

Li Dayong and Wang Jianqiang were now moderately wealthy—definitely among the rich few on the mainland—but their hundreds of thousands meant nothing against the price of Victoria Peak.

Li Ye rubbed his nose, unable to comfort his brothers' gloom.

He couldn't say that this hilltop used to be an English-speaking enclave, soon to shift to Cantonese,

but decades later, no matter your native tongue—Cantonese or English—you'd all have to learn Mandarin.

This wasn't because mainland tycoons were storming Victoria Peak—though rumors did say Sun Feng's boss had led a team to sweep the area,

it truly signaled that economic gravity was shifting northward; if you didn't want to fall behind, you had to move closer to the north.

Pei Wencong's new home sat at high elevation; the Mercedes climbed nearly to the peak before entering a villa.

The villa looked modest, but its location was excellent.

Li Ye asked Pei Wencong, "Is your house above the fog line?"

Pei Wencong praised, "Mr. Li has sharp eyes—tomorrow morning, if there's fog, you'll see the view above the clouds."

Li Ye laughed, "That's not sharp eyes—it's common sense."

Victoria Peak mansions were divided into upper and lower tiers: those above the fog line, where you could see the clouds in the morning, were "upper mansions";

those where fog obscured everything through the windows on foggy days were "lower mansions."

Inside Pei Wencong's home, Li Ye saw A Qiang.

A Qiang, dressed as a painter, was intently repainting an old house in the courtyard.

"Hey, Qiang!"

A Qiang, on the ladder, turned at the sound, saw Li Ye, and nearly fell off.

He dropped the paintbrush, rushed over, and nervously asked, "Mr. Li, why are you in Hong Kong now?"

Li Ye frowned, "Why? Do I need to pick a date to come to Hong Kong?"

"No, it's just—there are negotiations going on, and reporters keep hounding people like me who've been to the mainland.

Recently, they found out about the short play 'The Returnee' at the Great Hall, and now they're hunting for who played A Qiang in it.

I don't know why they suspect me, so I've been hiding here—be careful when you come; reporters are everywhere."

Li Ye was surprised, "Are they that well-informed? But so what? Can they charge you with a crime?"

"Of course not—Hong Kong is a place of law."

A Qiang shook his head repeatedly, "But I'm growing to hate being here. Mr. Li, when you go back, take me with you to Beijing!"

Li Ye stared at A Qiang for several seconds, then smiled, "You want to go back to Beijing? No—you want Pan Xiaoqing the reporter."

A Qiang's face flushed red; he chuckled awkwardly, embarrassed.

Li Ye thought a moment and asked, "Have you been writing to Pan Xiaoqing? Has she said whether she wants to come to Hong Kong?"

A Qiang nodded, "She didn't say directly, but I think she wants to study here. But you know the situation—I'm already being hounded by reporters. I'm afraid she'll regret coming."

【If you don't let her come, she'll regret it more!】

Li Ye didn't want to comment on A Qiang and Pan Xiaoqing's romance; he said, "Don't rush. Hong Kong's environment will stabilize soon—then reporters won't care about such small matters."

Li Ye knew this month was the most tense period in mainland-British negotiations; the two sides had major disagreements, and Britain had played the economic card, causing Hong Kong's stock and currency markets to crash, pushing the Hang Seng Index down to just over 600 points.

But before the mainland's firm stance, the once-ruling empire had only this one card left—and it lasted only two months before it had to bow to reality.

A Qiang sighed, "That's best. I'd never been to the mainland—I thought British Hong Kong was mighty. But now I see some people are just deluding themselves."

Li Ye was surprised—he hadn't expected A Qiang to think this way.

Most Hong Kongers still had blind confidence, believing the Iron Lady who'd just won the Falklands War could repeat her glory!

"Beep-beep-beep~"

A car horn sounded outside the villa. Pei Wencong's maid opened the electric gate, and a red Mini drove in.

After parking, two women—a mother and daughter—got out, carrying several bottles of wine.

The older woman was over fifty; though her hair was black, deep wrinkles revealed a life of hardship.

The girl driving was under twenty, petite and bright-eyed; after getting out, she kept glancing at Li Ye, Li Dayong, and Wang Jianqiang.

When she saw Li Ye, her eyes sparkled; when she saw Li Dayong, they widened in astonishment.

Compared to Hong Kongers' stature, Li Dayong—nearly 1. meters tall, weighing 180–190 jin—was towering and massive.

The girl didn't approach boldly but called out to Pei Wencong inside, "Brother, you brought friends?"

Pei Wencong stepped out quickly, leading the woman and girl over. "Mr. Li, this is my mother, and this is my sister, Pei Wenhui."

"Mama, this is the Mr. Li I told you about. This is Mr. Wang, and this is also Mr. Li."

Pei Wencong's mother greeted Li Ye in Cantonese, warmly, yet Li Ye sensed a hint of nervousness.

His sister Pei Wenhui was more relaxed, bowing slightly to the three: "Hello, welcome to our home."

Pei's mother slapped her daughter's arm, displeased: "What's this 'guest' nonsense? This is Mr. Li's home—take them inside for tea!"

Pei Wenhui stuck out her tongue and hurriedly led Li Ye and the others inside for tea.

Pei's mother went to the kitchen and quickly prepared a full table of dinner—clearly she'd been ready all along; the two women's outing must have been to buy wine.

Pei's mother poured wine for Li Ye herself, raised her cup, and said, "These two bottles aren't fine wine—they've been buried under my old house back home for over ten years.

I once said I'd open them only when A Cong married. But today, knowing Mr. Li has come to Hong Kong, I feel this is a great joy—I hope you won't disdain them."

Li Ye quickly raised his cup in return and drank it down in one gulp, leaving the Pei family deeply impressed.

Soon after, everyone drank, ate, and chatted casually; Pei's mother was in high spirits, completely overshadowing Pei Wencong.

But Pei's mother understood Mandarin yet could only speak Cantonese.

Li Ye could understand; Wang Jianqiang, who'd briefly stayed in Guangzhou, had to guess; Li Dayong was completely lost.

My mother said we used to be from the mainland; she came over from Chaoshan when she was very young, and life has been hard all these years.

But my mother never lost hope, because the master said my brother would surely rise to great prominence.

Pei Wenhui's Mandarin was better than Pei Wencong's, so she acted as the interpreter—though this interpreter seemed to speak only to Li Dayong.

The elder at home wasn't feeling well today, and we were delayed going to the hospital; I'm sorry.

(End of chapter)