Chapter 99: What Kind of Nice Story Do You Want to Hear? I

“Second gear, just second gear—if you dare shift to third, you’re never riding again. No motorcycle for you, ever.”

Li Ye sat on the motorcycle’s rear seat, tugging hard at the miner’s helmet strap, hoping that if he had to jump off later, even if he messed up, this homemade helmet would at least activate its passive protective function.

Today, while riding to Shuangliu Town, he got caught by Jin Peng, who badgered and wheedled until Li Ye finally agreed to let him ride a motorcycle once.

Li Ye couldn’t refuse, so he found an open patch of ground and temporarily became a motor vehicle instructor, giving Jin Peng a live lesson.

Actually, transitioning from a bicycle to a motorcycle wasn’t technically difficult—if it were a CVT motorcycle, Li Ye felt there’d be no obstacle at all.

In the future, after riding bicycles for years, do people even need a license to switch to an electric scooter?

Bullshit.

A certain old driver Li Ye once knew said motor vehicles weren’t hard to handle—even a four-wheeled car—if you could quickly and accurately find the brake, you were qualified to start learning on the road.

Stalling on startup? No problem—just restart.

Wrong direction? No problem—hit the brake.

Wall ahead? Ditch ahead? Person ahead? No problem—just hit the brake.

But if you manage to step on the brake and hit the throttle instead, that’s the instructor’s or examiner’s negligence—truly criminal.

Li Ye was extremely responsible, repeatedly emphasizing the positions of both brakes, until Jin Peng called him a nagging ghost.

But nagging or not, Jin Peng picked it up fast—in under an hour he mastered starting, shifting, and braking, and began circling the open ground.

He’d barely learned to walk before he wanted to run, insisting on taking Li Ye for a spin.

Li Ye refused—he forced Jin Peng to practice starting and stopping repeatedly on the open ground, quickly instilling basic conditioned reflexes for twisting the throttle and pressing the brake.

Li Ye had figured it out: given Jin Peng’s reckless nature and his pockets full of cash, once they returned to Yangcheng, he’d definitely buy a motorcycle.

So during this window, he had to make sure Jin Peng developed good habits.

After hours of struggling, Li Ye got hungry, and the two rode off to find something to eat.

But as soon as they hit the road, Li Ye regretted it.

This guy Jin Peng had a maniacal talent for speed—he twisted the throttle to the max as standard practice; if the bike could fly, he’d never let it touch the ground.

Li Ye got scared and immediately imposed a limit: only second gear allowed.

Remember, the Happiness 250 was nicknamed the Red Cannon!

Just listen to that name—it tells you how fierce, how terrifying it was; hit a wall and you’d punch a big hole.

Hit a person? Pfft, pfft, pfft.

The manic motorcycle, reluctantly restraining itself, returned to Qingshui County.

When the bike stopped outside Qingshui Restaurant, a group of kids were fanning the lingering fumes in the air, savoring them—but Li Ye felt he’d lost his appetite entirely.

Back then, many kids would sniff the exhaust fumes after cars passed by, but Li Ye, who’d suffered under future pollution, hated the smell.

The Happiness 250 had a two-stroke engine, mixing oil with gasoline for combustion.

Jin Peng drove with full throttle and incomplete combustion, so the fumes built up in the nasal cavity—pungent and intoxicating.

Several dishes arrived; Jin Peng ate heartily, then noticed Li Ye’s lack of appetite and asked, “What’s wrong? The food not to your taste?”

“No,” Li Ye thought a moment, then asked, “Has Hao Jian gone to Yangcheng?”

“Left yesterday,” Jin Peng said. “You got something to tell him? I’ll send a telegram for you tomorrow.”

“Nothing important,” Li Ye shook his head, then suddenly asked, “Brother Peng, didn’t you ask him to get you a motorcycle?”

“.”

Jin Peng paused, then chuckled. “You’re getting sharper—you’re not missing anything.”

“I called San Shui yesterday—he said a water courier just contacted him, asking if he wanted to get into the motorcycle business.”

“I told him to get a few first, test the waters—I’ll get you a world-brand one later.”

“Motorcycle business? From overseas?”

“Probably. But San Shui says it’s no big deal in Yangcheng now—they only mentioned it because they know we’ve got connections northward.”

Li Ye’s expression turned grim. Last time San Shui got him that plum blossom watch, it was through a water courier—now, just months later, someone had already made a connection?

Li Ye lowered his head slightly, raised an eyebrow at Jin Peng’s clueless face, and made a decision.

“Brother Peng, in a few days, I’m going with you to Yangcheng.”

Jin Peng froze, then burst into laughter.

“You should’ve gone sooner, Xiao Ye—I’m telling you, Yangcheng’s the real world of wonders. I’ll take you to see the red lights—”

“No, no, no! Don’t get the wrong idea! I mean, we’ll be brothers-in-arms, carving out our own destiny together!”

Jin Peng had planned to show Li Ye the flashy side of life—but when Li Ye’s eyes flickered, he instantly corrected himself, afraid of corrupting the kid.

Sure, Li Ye had been teaching him, but some things? Li Ye was still green.

But Li Ye wasn’t going to see the glittering world—he was going to assess the southern environment and clean up Jin Peng and Hao Jian’s act.

A makeshift gang aiming for longevity needed discipline.

Many first-generation entrepreneurs, once flush with cash, became arrogant and lawless, convinced money could solve everything, sinking into all five vices, ending in tragedy.

Jin Peng was smart, no doubt—but that fearless, reckless spirit of his was a double-edged sword; it needed tight control.

San Shui had only been in Yangcheng for over half a year, and already he was dabbling in water courier business?

Li Ye had to draft internal rules now—instill lasting reverence in them, so they wouldn’t die without knowing why.

Small things like never driving after drinking, big things like not being corrupted by wealth—well, he wouldn’t bother with that last one—but other dangerous trends had to be crushed hard.

Don’t think seeing a bit of Yangcheng’s sky makes you awesome—you’re still a country bumpkin in my eyes, just back from your first taste of the outside world.

When Li Ye got home after dinner, it was already six or seven—upon entering, he saw that annoying aunt still hadn’t left.

Was she planning to stay?

Li Ye pushed his bike silently, deciding to park it and then retreat to his room and not come out.

This aunt loved to psychologically manipulate others—he feared another clash with her, adding to his stress.

But before he could push his bike into the designated shed, Li Mingyue said, “Xiao Ye, don’t park it—we’re leaving right away.”

“Huh?”

If you’re leaving, no one’s stopping you—what’s this got to do with my motorcycle?

Seeing Li Ye’s expression, Li Kaibian quickly said, “It’s getting late—I’ll take your aunt home.”

So that’s it—they wanted a free ride!

In his past life, when Li Ye first bought a car, his “elders” had done the same thing—annoying, but hard to refuse.

Li Ye didn’t want to argue—he’d let Li Kaibian drive. After all, the gasoline cost would fall on him as workshop director; back then, gas wasn’t freely available.

Li Ye tossed the miner’s helmet into Li Kaibian’s hands and turned to head to his room—he still had several pages of manuscript to write.

But Li Mingyue called him back.

“Hey hey hey, Xiao Ye, don’t run off yet—tell Auntie, how did your college entrance exam go?”

A fire rose in Li Ye’s chest, but when he turned around, his face wore a sweet, innocent smile.

Come on, come on—what kind of nice story do you want to hear? I’ll make you satisfied.

Just make sure you don’t blush when the truth comes out.

Li Ye had finally understood: arguing with this aunt was pointless—she had no shame, grew bolder with every clash; better to just satisfy her.

[Yes yes yes, your son’s better than mine, yes yes yes, your son’s the best, Tsinghua and Peking University? Too common for him.]

“I don’t know how I did—I filled out every question, but I have no idea how many points I got.”

“Oh come on, why didn’t you check your answers after the exam? Here, Auntie got you the official answers—quickly compare, so you can report to Grandpa and Grandma. Look, no one in the family even knows how you did.”

Auntie bustled to fetch the answers, eager to catch Li Ye red-handed.

But Li Ye said, “Don’t bother bringing the answers—I have a bad memory. I’ve already forgotten what I wrote on the paper.”

Li Mingyue scolded immediately: “You forgot already? After just two days? Our Aiguo still remembers every single word!”

Li Ye nodded: “That’s right, that’s right—my bastard cousin’s studies are excellent—he’s way better than me.”

A flush spread across Li Mingyue’s face as she beamed: “Aiguo did pretty well this time—probably around 330 points.”

Li Mingyue’s cheeks flushed red as she beamed, “Aiguo did pretty well this year—probably scored 330.”

Li Ye acted like a dramatic actor: “Not low! Really not low! That’s the Literary Star descending!”

Li Ye dramatically gasped, “Not low! Not low at all! This is the Literary Star descending to earth!”

Li Mingyue couldn’t respond—no matter how clueless she was, she knew what 330 points meant.

Everyone else in the family stared in shock.

Grandma Wu Juying: [What’s gotten into my eldest grandson?]

Grandpa Li Zhongfa: [330 points is the Literary Star? Then if you claim you can score 600, what are you?]

After a few seconds, she mumbled, “330 isn’t that high—but Aiguo applied to a junior college in the west, so he’s got a good chance.”

“He’ll get in—he’ll definitely get in,” Li Ye said with full seriousness and absolute certainty. “This year’s math exam was brutal—330 points? Not just for junior college—you could get into university.”

“He got in, definitely got in,” Li Ye said with serious certainty, “This year’s math exam was brutal—330 isn’t just enough for a junior college, it’s enough for a bachelor’s program.”

Li Mingyue stared blankly at Li Ye, all the words she’d prepared stuck in her throat.

Li Mingyue stared at Li Ye, dumbfounded, all the words she’d been holding back stuck in her throat.

Finally, she grabbed him and asked: “Xiao Ye, which school did you apply to?”

Li Ye blushed slightly: “I was afraid I’d apply too high and fail, so I applied to... Zhongguancun College of Arts and Sciences.”

Li Ye said shyly, “I was afraid I’d pick too high and fail, so I applied to Zhongguancun College of Arts and Sciences.”

Li Mingyue stared for a long time, then her face broke into a radiant smile.

Li Mingyue stared in shock for a long time, then gradually smiled like a blooming flower.

"Hmm, the village school is fine too. Xiao Ye has made progress this time—he's learned to be practical."

(End of Chapter)