Chapter 324: Brother, It

"Bro, why haven't I seen any planes landing? Could this flight be late too?"

Li Dayong checked his watch several times, growing increasingly restless.

According to the schedule Pei Wenhui had given her, the plane should have arrived in Dongshan by one p. ., but it was already twelve fifty-five and still no sign of it.

Li Ye looked at Li Dayong and said dismissively, "You think planes don't get delayed? They don't even refund your ticket money if it's canceled due to weather!"

Li Dayong pursed his lips. "Ticket money isn't the point—it's worse than taking the train!"

Li Dayong didn't understand airplanes well, so besides being anxious, he was mostly worried.

He always felt planes were less safe than trains, and Dongshan's provincial airport was far inferior to Beijing's.

In 1984, Dongshan's Yaoqiang Airport didn't even exist yet; the provincial airport was still at Zhangzhuang, with only one runway.

One runway was bad enough, but the equipment was outdated, the runway was relatively short, and only small aircraft could take off or land.

For example, the British Short 360 passenger planes flying out of Dongshan had to stop in Wuhan mid-flight to refuel before reaching Yangcheng—not to mention how uncomfortable it was, but small planes were also less safe than large ones.

Also, Zhangzhuang Airport was jointly used by military and civilian aviation; when no flights were scheduled, usage times were strictly separated.

If the air force wasn't flying, civil aviation could train; if the air force was flying, civil aviation had to stay grounded.

So Pei Wencong's journey from Hong Kong to Shanghai, then transferring to a flight to Dongshan, was bound to be full of uncertainties—delays were normal.

By one thirty p. ., no plane had landed yet. Li Dayong couldn't hold back and went to ask, but the airport staff glanced at him and said there was no information service—he could only trudge back dejectedly.

At that moment, a group of people rushed into the terminal, brushing past Li Dayong.

"Li Dayong, what are you doing here?"

Li Dayong looked up and saw a woman in her mid-twenties.

Li Dayong blinked, then said, "I'm here to pick someone up."

The woman said skeptically, "Pick someone up? Who? Who are you picking up?"

Li Dayong was already uncomfortable, and her words made it worse—he immediately blurted out one of Li Ye's favorite phrases.

"None of your damn business!"

The woman froze, then glared angrily, ready to explode—but a middle-aged man stopped her.

"Xiaoming, mind your surroundings. No fighting today."

The man turned to Li Dayong, frowning slightly. "We're expecting an important guest today. Don't cause trouble."

Li Dayong took a deep, silent breath and coldly spat out two words.

"Crazy."

The middle-aged man was stunned, and only when Li Dayong returned to Li Ye and the others did he angrily march back to his group.

Li Ye had seen Li Dayong's interaction with the two and noticed his grim expression. "What happened? Who are those two?"

Li Dayong stayed silent for several seconds, then whispered to Li Ye, "The woman is Lin Qiuyan's cousin; the man is her father. I've met them twice before. Just now they asked me why I was at the airport—what's it to them what I'm doing here?"

Li Ye nodded. "Oh, so that's Chen Juming and Lin Zisheng."

Li Dayong nodded, then suddenly looked up at Li Ye. "Bro, how do you know their names?"

"Heh~ Didn't you tell me?"

"Did I ever tell you?"

Li Dayong scratched his head, confused—he remembered only telling Li Ye that Lin Qiuyan's father was a factory director, never their names.

Li Ye smiled but didn't correct him.

【I don't just know their names—I know Chen Juming was just forced to transfer back from Guangdong's Foreign Trade Bureau to Lin Zisheng's clothing factory!】

Back then, someone maliciously registered the "Fenghua" trademark. Jin Peng only found the contact address and phone number on the application, so Li Ye asked Guo Donglun to handle it. Guo Donglun said nothing at the time.

A few months later, Guo Donglun's maid "accidentally" told Hao Jian about Chen Juming.

A promising overseas returnee, forcibly transferred from the foreign trade system back to a Dongshan clothing factory—the drop must've been as drastic as her transfer application, which could only be explained as "serving her hometown."

At two ten p. ., the rumble of aircraft engines finally echoed through the sky—a twin-engine propeller regional plane slowly landed at Dongshan Provincial Airport.

Lin Zisheng's group immediately gathered at the exit, blocking most of the narrow passage.

Li Ye had no intention of joining the crowd—he knew even from eight hundred meters away, Pei Wencong would run over enthusiastically to shake his hand.

But Li Zhongfa insisted they must show respect to foreign guests; after all, they'd come all the way to the land of Confucius and Mencius—could they afford to give them a rude impression?

So Li Zhongfa stood up and walked toward the exit; Li Ye and the other three youngsters had no choice but to follow.

But when Lin Zisheng saw Li Zhongfa's group approaching, he frowned tightly and whispered to a few people beside him.

They glanced at Li Ye's group, then stepped forward coldly. "Comrades, we're receiving a foreign guest. Please don't approach or disturb."

Li Ye's group grew angry, but Li Zhongfa waved them off. "You receive your guest, I receive mine. Don't play games with me. You don't even have an official foreign affairs officer here—what are you pretending to be?"

Lin Zisheng's people were left speechless. They'd blown their own horn so loudly, but Li Zhongfa hit the nail on the head—without any official personnel, this was purely a private act. Who were they to put on airs?

Li Zhongfa wasn't some kid like Li Ye or Li Dayong—he understood the system well. If this were truly an important foreign guest, there'd be uniformed officers maintaining order, or at least a few respectable officials.

It was like tigers recognizing each other's scent—Li Zhongfa only needed one glance to tell a Li Kui from a Li Gui.

Li Zhongfa gave them a cold look, didn't bother arguing, simply pushed past them, and took position on the left side of the exit, keeping a distance from Lin Zisheng's group.

Soon, passengers began exiting the plane.

This regional aircraft carried few travelers—only about thirty—and from afar, you could clearly spot who was who.

"Here they come! The man in the white trench coat is my second uncle—he sent us a family photo last year, I'm sure it's him."

A short man with a red nose stood on tiptoe, waving excitedly toward the arriving passengers.

"So that's your second uncle? He really has presence."

"Of course—he's a top businessman over the strait!"

"Then who's bigger—your second uncle or this Mr. Pei he mentioned?"

"Probably about the same—he didn't say exactly."

The red-nosed man looked embarrassed, his eyes darting nervously.

"Hey, no matter what, Old Wang, your second uncle's come home in glory—you're lucky, kid!"

"What's 'come home in glory'?"

"Hmph~"

Li Zhongfa let out a quiet snort.

Put bluntly, many of these "foreign guests" returning home to visit had probably fought against Li Zhongfa on the battlefield decades ago!

Lin Zisheng's group's loud chatter infected the other people waiting to meet arrivals—everyone stretched their necks, eager to see what this "glorious returnee" looked like.

But none of them knew who the "second uncle" was—they only noticed four people among the passengers stood out sharply.

Pei Wencong's demeanor was even more impressive than two years ago—he wore a custom-tailored suit, radiating confidence, utterly flamboyant.

Pei Wenhui and Luo Runbo, naturally VIP clients of Fenghua Fashion Design Studio, were dressed in stylish, eye-catching outfits.

Behind them followed a tall woman, seemingly a secretary or assistant.

Her refined makeup, form-fitting office attire, eight-inch heels—and most importantly, her blonde hair and blue eyes—captured everyone's gaze.

The power of her golden curls made everyone feel she was somehow out of sync with the surrounding environment.

Yet no matter how striking her appearance, she trailed behind Pei Wencong and Pei Wenhui, even falling half a step behind Luo Runbo.

"Could Mr. Pei be a Westerner?"

"Impossible—look at the blonde woman; she's walking behind the man in the gray suit. He must be Mr. Pei."

Pei Wencong wasn't stupid—he'd never pay for a fake father. Whether yellow or white skin, the person had to know their place.

Watching the bustling crowd, Li Ye suddenly felt he should do something.

Lin Qiuyan was a wound in Li Dayong's heart; though time would gradually heal it,

why not take a sip of the miraculous cure if it was right there?

So Li Ye smiled slightly and patted Li Dayong on the shoulder.

"Dayong, it's time to show off."