Chapter 92: When You Have Too Much Money, It Bites Your Hand

Liang Dazhong turned in his exam ten minutes early and headed straight for a shady spot beside the wall of Yuhong Middle School.

There, his dozen or so classmates—all candidates from Liuqiao Township Middle School—were waiting.

They had all turned in their papers early; most hung their heads in shame and regret, while others had accepted defeat and become “broken pots.”

“Hey, Old Liang didn’t show till now? Guess you’re gonna pass this year?”

“Yeah yeah yeah, in a few months we won’t call him Old Liang anymore—we’ll call him Comrade Liang.”

“Exactly, once he’s an official, he’ll smoke Qianmen cigarettes at least—I gotta sneak one to taste it... hey... what’s wrong, Old Liang?”

As Liang Dazhong drew near, they noticed his face was twisted with rage.

“Da Hu, Tie Niu... later, help me teach someone a lesson.”

“........”

The dozen or so early finishers froze; many subtly edged away, clearly not wanting trouble.

But the other seven or eight students couldn't escape—they were close to Liang Dazhong, had often fought alongside him, and were outright "tyrants" at Liuqiao Township Middle School.

If they refused to help without a word, they’d seem “unrighteous.”

In Qingshui County, if a kid was called “unrighteous,” it was the same as being called “a coward without balls.”

One of them, Da Hu, whispered: “Dazhong, who pissed you off? Why?”

Liang Dazhong blurted: “Some weakling in my exam room—I can’t stand him.”

He wasn’t telling the truth—he was sharp as a tack.

Saying “he wouldn’t let me copy his exam” would be too humiliating.

【I, Liang Dazhong, want to look at anyone’s paper—who dares refuse me?】

Tiger frowned: “Don’t stir up trouble here—there are too many teachers. And is he from No. 1 or No. 2 High?”

Liang Dazhong sat down hard: “He’s not from No. 1 or No. 2—he doesn’t talk to anyone else in our room. Probably from Yuan Zhuang or Taohua Township—few people there.”

“Tie Niu, Yang Zhan—push our bikes to the school gate. Two bikes, six of us—we follow him and see if any teacher walks with him...”

Don’t think troublemakers are stupid—they know their limits, excel at picking on the weak, and even plan ahead.

Those who charge at anyone with a brick at the first insult? They don’t last long—unless they’ve got a powerful grandfather.

Yuan Zhuang and Taohua Township were the two smallest rural high schools in Qingshui County; each year, barely any students passed the preliminary exam to take the formal Gaokao—they were easy targets.

After the exam bell rang, Liang Dazhong stared hard at the exam room door and spotted Yan Jinbu exiting—he immediately pointed him out to his crew.

“That guy in the gray jacket—remember him. I’ll handle him.”

Liang Dazhong had already planned his move: outside the city, he’d kick the stingy bastard down, slap him twice, drag him through the dirt till his face was covered in grime, and make him cry for his grandpa.

It was deeply humiliating—but left no trace.

No wounds, no blood—who’d investigate?

“Look at his clothes—he probably only smokes cheap cigarettes. Not much profit. We... hey... what’s he doing?”

As Liang Dazhong and his crew were sizing up Yan Jinbu, wondering if they could get something out of it,

they saw Yan Jinbu gesturing to a hulking man, then pointing straight at them.

“His friend’s tricky—we all move together,” Liang Dazhong improvised.

But the next moment, he saw a slight student join Yan Jinbu and the others.

“That guy...”

“Shit—it’s Li Ye from No. 2 High. Run.”

Liang Dazhong spun and bolted, abandoning his stunned comrades.

“Who? What Li Ye?” Tiger caught up, confused.

“The one who kicked Sun Laoshi’s dog to death.”

“What?”

Tiger blinked, then remembered the boy who’d caused a huge stir in Liuqiao Township two years ago.

That day, Sun Laoshi was watching his fields when a thief kicked his dog to death. Several strong young men had confronted the boy—and still lost.

One kick killed a dog—that wasn’t normal. To fight back in a crowd? Even less normal. And later, rumors said the kid’s grandfather was no ordinary man.

Crucially—he was from No. 2 High. This was his turf.

But before they’d taken ten steps, a voice roared behind them: “You lot—stop!”

Liang Dazhong shouted: “Don’t turn back. Don’t panic. Teachers are watching—they won’t dare touch us.”

But before his words finished, not even half a second later, five of his usually “righteous” buddies bolted past him, sprinting ahead.

“Fuck, you bastards are so unrighteous!”

Liang Dazhong stood stunned for a full second before realizing he had to run—but ahead, No. 2 High teachers were already blocking his path.

Liang Dazhong turned and saw Li Ye, the dog-kicker, chasing him at full speed,

and that seemingly soft, dumb-looking kid was sprinting after them too, excited like a dog spotting a bone.

【You dog-bastard—I just glanced at your paper, what’s the big deal? It didn’t even hurt you... why are you chasing me?!】

Liang Dazhong no longer dared run straight—he veered sharply toward the school wall and slammed into it.

Li Ye was startled: “Is he trying to fake an injury? Or commit suicide from shame?”

But then he saw Liang Dazhong perform a “Cloud-Scaling Step”—his feet pressed against the wall’s brick seams, trying to climb over the top.

【Holy shit—is this still the ordinary world?】

Too bad Liang Dazhong wasn’t one of the Wudang Seven Heroes—his Qi flowed poorly, and he naturally slipped and fell.

“Thud~”

He lay still.

The heavy thud made Li Ye’s eyelid twitch.

Please don’t break your leg.

Not my fault.

Li Ye couldn’t understand why this guy had jumped the wall just from glancing at him.

Am I that terrifying?

Teachers from No. 2 High and Liuqiao Township arrived quickly; the guy who’d supposedly broken his leg “slowly came to.”

After learning the situation, the teachers from both schools engaged in a stern exchange.

【Failed to copy the exam, and now you’re waiting for our student? What for?】

The Liuqiao Township teachers swore they’d investigate thoroughly and punish any guilty students—no protection for rotten apples.

But Li Ye suspected this would end in nothing.

Teachers today scolded and beat their own students—but fiercely protected them.

Cheating? So common. No one caught him red-handed—why make a fuss?

Still, Li Ye watched the boy hiding behind his teacher, acting like a good little boy, and grew wary.

This guy had acting skills, cunning, broke rules but knew limits—if he wasn’t caught, he might become someone powerful.

After all, someone in the future once said: “Only those without shame succeed.”

Of course, Li Ye would never associate with such people—he despised bullies and wouldn’t stand beside them.

After this commotion, No. 2 High’s four columns returned to school over ten minutes late.

At the school gate, Li Ye saw Hao Jian and Jin Peng waiting outside.

Because Li Ye was taking the Gaokao, Li Zhong had ordered them strictly: absolutely no interference with his grandson’s exam.

For the past two months, Jin Peng had only delivered vegetables and meat to the Second Grain Store—and never spoken to Li Ye.

Today, right after the exam ended, these two key men showed up—were they rushing to report, show loyalty, or did they have trouble needing Li Ye’s help?

Li Ye decided to meet them after dismissal—they weren’t impulsive types; maybe something urgent had come up.

But as the four columns entered No. 2 High, Li Ye spotted Teacher Ke standing by the playground, beside a tall young man—185 cm.

Though only in his twenties, he carried the aura of Gao Cangjian—tough, melancholy, weathered.

【So handsome?】

Li Ye studied the man’s face—he bore a resemblance to Teacher Ke.

He glanced at the Volga parked on the playground, bearing a Beijing-01 license plate, and the truck from last time—he knew who it was.

Wen Leyu’s brother: Wen Guohua.

Li Ye glanced at Wen Leyu beside him—the girl’s eyes were already red with tears.

Wen Guohua was equally agitated, scanning the crowd anxiously, his worry deepening.

Li Ye asked: “That your brother?”

Wen Leyu nodded: “Mm.”

Li Ye asked again: “He doesn’t seem to recognize you?”

Wen Leyu sniffled, voice trembling: “I was so little back then... my parents could only care for one...”

The candidates lined up on the playground; Principal Chang began speaking, praising the exam as “successful, complete, victorious,” and so on.

But Wen Guohua kept searching desperately for his sister—Teacher Ke only smiled, offering no hint.

Just as the line was about to break up, his gaze finally locked onto Li Ye’s side.

As Principal Chang said, “Dismissed,” Wen Guohua strode straight over.

Wen Leyu’s tears spilled over.

Li Ye stepped aside to give the siblings space.

“Xiao Yu, you’ve... grown so tall?”

The moment he spoke, Wen Guohua’s rugged Gao Cangjian aura crumbled—his voice cracked, just like Wen Leyu’s sniffly crying.

Wen Leyu lifted her small foot and kicked Wen Guohua’s shin: “You didn’t recognize me? You didn’t recognize me...”

Li Ye watched the “spoiled” Wen Leyu and knew she wasn’t truly blaming—she was releasing pent-up hurt, a little sister’s tender whining to her brother, pure kinship.

This was her innate gift: before adulthood, she wielded overwhelming power over her blood brother.

“Alright, alright, everyone disperse! Aren’t you supposed to be packing and heading home?”

Li Ye began shooing away the onlookers, sparing the siblings further embarrassment.

But this stirred Wen Guohua’s turbulent emotions—he soothed Wen Leyu: “Little Yu, go find Mom first. I brought you so many things... I’ll chat with this Seven-Inch Blade.”

Wen Leyu wiped her nose, nodded, then suddenly looked up: “How do you know he’s Seven-Inch Blade?”

Wen Guohua said: “Dad said he looks decent.”

All of Wen Leyu’s petty hurt vanished instantly.

【Look, my taste is good, right? In a crowd, I can spot the most handsome guy at a glance.】

Wen Leyu followed Teacher Ke away. Wen Guohua stepped up to Li Ye and extended his hand.

“Hello, Wen Guohua.”

“Hello, Li Ye.”

After shaking hands, they sidestepped the students on the playground and walked toward a quiet spot.

“I read your novels—they’re excellent. ‘Infiltration’ was great; this one... even better.”

“Writing novels is just my hobby, something I do on the side. You don’t need to take it seriously.”

“Heh~ You can treat it casually, but we can’t afford to ignore it.”

Wen Guohua smiled: “I won’t waste time on formalities. Come to Beijing soon—I’ll treat you to drinks.”

It’d be strange if he said too many polite words!

“Alright, definitely.”

Li Ye agreed. Whether the offer was sincere or not, the attitude alone made him feel warm.

“Oh, by the way,” Wen Guohua said, “I brought you a gift. Come take a look.”

“A gift?”

Li Ye was surprised and followed Wen Guohua to the Beijing-bound truck.

Then Li Ye couldn’t help but mutter: “Big brother, you’re generous.”

It was a Xingfu 250 motorcycle.

Its heavy frame and vintage design gave Li Ye a deep sense of the era’s fashion.

In forty years, this thing would be a retro industrial relic—clunky, ugly, sturdy, and tough—but in 1982, it was as coveted as a Mercedes or BMW outside a school gate.

Anyone who rode this and kicked the starter would never lack girls on the backseat.

Li Ye thought for a moment, then said: “I need to pay for this.”

A Xingfu 250 cost over two thousand yuan back then—and even with money, you couldn’t always buy one. Wen Leyu’s father had only just resumed work; Li Ye didn’t want to cause gossip.

Wen Guohua looked at Li Ye, amused: “You’re talking money with me?”

“........”

That sounded... satisfying.

Seeing Li Ye’s expression, Wen Guohua added: “It’s just an old bike, not worth much. If you talk money, you’re disrespecting me.”

Li Ye glanced at the “nine-tenths used” 250, then at the clearly brand-new engine, and nodded in deep agreement.

Yeah, an old bike—worth nothing.

If it were about money, would he even bother talking to you?

Wen Leyu followed her mother back to the dormitory and froze upon entering.

The tiny room was piled high with gifts.

Candy, fruit, pastries... dolls, picture books, wooden guns, and all sorts of children’s toys...

Wen Leyu was torn between laughter and tears—her brother still saw her as a child, still remembered the little girl who’d sobbed uncontrollably years ago when they parted.

Teacher Ke, seeing Wen Leyu about to cry again, said: “Pick what you like. The rest, give to your classmates. We’re leaving today—we can’t carry too much.”

“Leave today?”

Wen Leyu gasped: “It’s almost night—why so rushed?”

Teacher Ke spoke gently: “Your father’s been waiting anxiously. Also, leaving now minimizes trouble for others.”

In truth, Teacher Ke didn’t want anyone to see her off.

Wen Guohua’s visit had brought another truckload of donations to County No. 2 High—material gifts were enough; no need to burden people with emotional obligations.

Wen Leyu understood these subtleties. She didn’t argue further, only pouted as she packed her things.

She pulled out a small bronze gong from under her bed, wiped it clean with her sleeve, wrapped it in a clean cloth, and carefully placed it in her backpack.

She intended to keep this item for life.

Then Wen Leyu retrieved another object from a hidden spot, clutched it in her hand, and walked straight to Li Ye.

Li Ye was surrounded by a crowd, being admired.

Well, people were mostly admiring the 250 motorcycle.

Seeing Wen Leyu approach, he pushed through the crowd and smiled to meet her.

Wen Leyu stopped one meter away, hands behind her back, head down, staring at her toes.

Li Ye found this strange—this girl was usually cool and direct, never shy.

“I’m leaving soon...”

“Oh, your brother just told me.”

“........”

The playground buzzed with noise, but around the two of them, silence reigned—as if even the wind dared not disturb these two youths struggling with separation.

After two full minutes of awkwardness, Wen Leyu’s small hand finally emerged from behind her back, clenched tightly, extended toward Li Ye.

“We had some leftover yarn at home—I knitted it to practice. Take it.”

Li Ye quickly accepted it with both hands, as reverently as receiving a betrothal ring.

It was a tiny wallet, knitted from yarn, adorned with two ugly-cute little flowers—unidentifiable as any species.

But was this about species?

Was this about ugly or beautiful?

Compared to this wallet, what was the Xingfu 250?

A thousand catties weighed less than a single hair.

Li Ye sniffled: “I can’t use this.”

Wen Leyu: “........”

“I’ll preserve it perfectly—no damage, no wear. When I die, I’ll be buried with it.”

Wen Leyu glanced at Li Ye in surprise, then lowered her head again, whispering: “Then I’m going. When you get to Beijing, come see me.”

“I promise—I swear to xxx, I will.”

“..........”

Wen Leyu turned and walked away, head down, walking faster and faster—until she broke into a run.

She feared walking slowly would let others see her tears.

It was only a few months apart—why was she so unable to hold back?

Li Ye quickly wiped his forehead with his sleeve—and his eyes.

【Damn it—this cursed wind, this cursed youth, this cursed love.】

Teacher Ke and Wen Leyu left. Hu Man and the others waved at the school gate until the Volga vanished from sight, then quietly shed tears.

“Alright, who’s not going home today? Come eat with us.”

Li Ye saw Jin Peng and Hao Jian approaching, and asked the others in their eight-person group.

After the exam, many students were leaving school—some tomorrow, some tonight.

But Hu Man and the others all said they’d leave tonight.

Li Ye asked Jiang Xiaoyan and Han Xia: “You’re going home too? You’ll get there after ten at this hour.”

Hu Man lived nearby, but Jiang Xiaoyan and Han Xia’s homes were far from the county—plus, they were girls. Li Ye felt uneasy.

“Don’t worry, Li Ye—we walk fast. We’ll be home by eight or nine.”

Their bedding bundles were already packed. They lifted them and prepared to leave.

The Gaokao was over—and they’d done brilliantly.

With their current spirits, dozens of li meant nothing.

Mom’s waiting for my good news. The sooner I tell her, the sooner she can rest easy.

“Wait, wait—Yingjie, Jinbu, toss your luggage onto Pengge’s cart. We’ll give you a ride.”

Li Ye returned to school and pushed out his new “big toy.”

Jin Peng’s eyes widened at the motorcycle.

“Xiao Ye, where’d you get this motorcycle? Did you ask the Private Secretary to buy it for you?”

“A friend bought it for me. It’s an old bike—worth nothing.”

"Old car my ass... Xiao Ye, can you even ride it? Let me take over!"

Jin Peng circled the motorcycle, his eyes gleaming as if he’d snatch it right away if it weren’t Li Ye’s.

Li Ye ignored the red-eyed rabbit again and called Hao Jian over to help tie the motorcycle to the front of the cart like a donkey.

The group quickly secured the motorcycle, leapt onto the cart, and waited for Li Ye to start it.

Jin Peng silently hoped Li Ye was inexperienced—maybe the engine would stall on startup, letting him take over and have his fun.

Even though he’d never ridden a motorcycle himself, he’d heard how to do it!

Then everyone watched as Li Ye kicked the starter, engaged gear, pulled away, and accelerated—all smooth, precise motions—soon dragging the cart forward at speed.

Jin Peng shouted: “Xiao Ye, when did you learn to ride a motorcycle?”

Li Ye called back: “I never learned—I just drove a tractor before.”

Jin Peng’s mind couldn’t process it.

Li Kaibian’s fertilizer factory did have dump tractors, but tell me—what connection is there between a tractor and a motorcycle?

Three hours later, classmates who’d swallowed exhaust all the way were dropped off one by one; only Li Ye, Hao Jian, and Jin Peng returned to the second grain store’s small warehouse.

The hired cook had gone home, so Li Ye and the others cooked for themselves: scrambled eggs, fried peanuts, plus a few bottles of baijiu and beer—simple but enough.

After filling their stomachs, Li Ye asked: “What did you come here to discuss tonight?”

Hao Jian and Jin Peng exchanged glances, then whispered: “Xiao Ye, when will this ‘great trend’ you talked about actually arrive?”

Li Ye kept eating, replying casually: “Why ask me that? I’m no prophet—I can’t predict the future. Why don’t you ask Old Huai?”

The “great trend” Hao Jian mentioned was what Li Ye had told him: the true moment of reform and opening.

After 1978, though the state began reforming, and by 1982 things became clearer, the real momentum wouldn’t build until around 1984.

Before then, opportunities abounded—but so did hidden currents, scaring off those who dared to test the waters.

Hao Jian chuckled awkwardly: “Old Huai... he doesn’t deal with this. You understand it better than he does.”

Watching Hao Jian sit silent with his cup, Li Ye smiled: “What trouble are you in? Is the money biting your hand? Or are you being watched?”

Hao Jian paused, then laughed: “You’re making fun of me, Xiao Ye. Last time I took your advice, I thought I’d opened my eyes wide enough—but I didn’t expect it to happen this fast!”

Hao Jian set down his cup and, like a thief, held up five fingers: “We’ve got this much now.”

Li Ye blinked: “Five million? Already?”

“..........”

Both Hao Jian and Jin Peng looked embarrassed.

“What are you thinking, Xiao Ye? Fifty thousand...”

“Only fifty thousand? What’s the big deal?”

Li Ye refused to waste words on these two—after over half a year in this world, they’d scraped together a few hundred thousand, and not even all theirs? Pathetic.

Other protagonists yawn and suddenly have thousands in dollars, three or five Pagani cars delivered, models falling over themselves to be chosen.

I don’t even know which pillow I’m hugging tonight dreaming of that—why are you nervous?

“I’m just worried because five million feels close.”

Hao Jian finally spoke openly: “We’ve only been at this a few months—went from twenty thousand to fifty thousand. How long till five million?”

“Can’t deposit it in the bank, can’t store it at home... too much money really does bite your hand!”