Chapter Twenty-Eight: Fierce Competition

Yang Meng explained, “These were gifts from the two biggest secondhand motorcycle dealers at the Zhao Village market. I did them a small favor.”

Qi Kun was skeptical. “A small favor gets you these badass rides? What did you do, help their wives get pregnant?”

Yang Meng smacked him on the head. “You talk too much nonsense. Listen, their guys just left, and if they hear you talking like that, they might go block your door.”

Qi Kun glanced toward the gate, made sure no one was there, then winked at Yang Meng. “How about we go hit the mountain roads?”

Yang Meng looked at him with disdain. “Hit the mountain roads with you? You can’t even lean into a turn or lower your head properly, and you want to ride with me? Just stick to your four wheels. Out of all us, only Crazy has decent skills. The rest of you are just dead weight.”

Qi Kun’s eyes widened. “Hey, fine, I admit my skills aren’t on your level. But even if I can’t scrape my knee, can’t I at least wear down the edge of the tire?”

The technique for taking high-speed corners on a motorcycle is for the rider to lean the bike into the turn, using centrifugal force to keep the bike from falling while cornering at high speed—commonly called “leaning.” Skilled riders can angle the bike over forty-five degrees, so their knees touch the ground, which is what Qi Kun means by “scraping knees.” Beginners, lacking speed and skill, can only lean a little, barely scraping the tire’s edge.

Yang Meng curled his lip. “That’s even more reason not to take you. It’d be too embarrassing. Enough talk, the plates haven’t even arrived yet. I’ve finished marinating the meat—help me skewer it.”

Qi Kun grimaced. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have come so early. I came with an empty stomach, didn’t expect I’d have to work. I’m calling Er Lengzi—no way he gets to slack off.”

Yang Meng nodded. “You’re right. He said he’d pop into the shop then come help, but he’s still not here.”

Just as he finished, there was a knock at the door. “Well, speak of the devil. Go open up—it must be that bastard.”

“Mengmeng, who are you calling a bastard?” As soon as Qi Kun opened the door, Hu Erleng barged in, cursing, but the moment he saw the four motorcycles in the yard, his expression mirrored Qi Kun’s earlier shock. “Damn, brother, are you selling bikes now? Where’d you get these beasts?”

Yang Meng had no choice but to repeat what he’d just told Qi Kun.

“You’re saying Qian Mazi and Zheng Dapao gave you these?” Hu Erleng asked curiously.

Yang Meng was surprised. “You know them?”

Hu Erleng nodded. “Didn’t you say they’re the biggest motorcycle dealers at Zhao Village market? That’s them! Damn, these secondhand dealers are really loaded. Just a few months ago, Zheng Dapao came to our shop and bought a BMW X5 as a gift for someone. Now, that’s a big spender. The world of the rich is beyond me.”

Yang Meng scratched his head. A BMW X5? As a gift? Wait, isn’t that Zhao Hai’s car? Sorry, that car’s already sold, and the money’s still sitting in my bank account.

No wonder Zhao Hai used that car as a wager—turns out Zheng Dapao gave it to him? Is this guy Zheng Dapao a godsend or a sugar daddy?

So, does that mean Zhao Hai basically pulled a fast one on me? Next time I see him, he’s getting a beating!

Unlike Qi Kun, who was itching for a joyride, Hu Erleng had no such urge—he’d had a motorcycle accident in the village and was still traumatized.

“These bikes take up too much space. That empty room over there—help me move them in!” Yang Meng and the others pushed the motorcycles into the vacant room, finally clearing the yard. Now it was time to grill.

Yang Meng brought out the marinated chicken wings and set them before Hu Erleng. “Enough gawking, start skewering! I can’t believe you just got here—what took you so long?”

Hu Erleng washed up and sat down with a complaint. “Don’t even ask. Today, a group of online sellers came to the shop, lining up to take photos with our cars, holding banners and bouquets. The banners all said, ‘Congratulations to Boss XX on your new XX car,’ making it look legit. What a waste of my time. Why is our boss so greedy for even these small deals? So embarrassing.”

Yang Meng laughed. “That’s exactly why he’s the boss and you’re the employee.”

Hu Erleng nodded. “You’re right about that. But I learned something today. You guys have no idea—the makeup skills of those online sellers aside, their photo-editing skills are out of this world. A two-hundred-pound, fifty-year-old woman can Photoshop herself into a high school girl. It’s almost supernatural! I finally get it—if you want to see beauties these days, just scroll your social feed. I’ve got so many people on my app, but looking at their photos, I barely recognize any of them.”

Qi Kun nodded vigorously. “That’s so true. The scariest part is, after a while, even they believe they look like their edited photos! If you say something, they get mad! I once picked up a girl like that, and she almost called to complain about me.”

Hu Erleng was curious. “Why?”

Qi Kun replied, “Don’t ask. I was just being nosy. When she paid with her phone, I saw her screen saver—a girl’s photo. I asked which celebrity it was, since I didn’t recognize her. She said it was her. No way it was the same person. She got so angry, she wanted to file a complaint. I swear, anyone with eyes could see it wasn’t her.”

Yang Meng, having lit the charcoal in the grill, took the skewered wings from them and said, “Aren’t you guys a little crude? Since you got here, all you’ve talked about is women.”

Qi Kun blinked. “So you want to talk about men?”

“Fine, let’s stick to women!” Yang Meng said, arranging the wings on the grill. “Let me tell you, since you both showed up early, you’re my guinea pigs today.”

“Guinea pigs for what?” Hu Erleng asked.

Yang Meng smiled. “I used a new marinade on these chicken wings. Try them and tell me if they’re any good.”

Hu Erleng pointed at Qi Kun and laughed. “What’s there to worry about? With Lobster here, even if you burn them to a crisp, he’ll eat every last bit. How do you think he got to two hundred pounds?”

Qi Kun was about to retort when he and Hu Erleng suddenly turned their heads to stare at Yang Meng, startling him. “What are you two looking at me for?”

Qi Kun pointed at the grill. “What did you put in these wings? They smell incredible!”

“Huh?” Yang Meng was puzzled. “I just put them on the grill and you already smell it? Isn’t that an exaggeration?”

Truth be told, Yang Meng was taking his blessings for granted. Now that he had a celestial body and had drunk Yi Di’s yellow wine, he found it unremarkable. But for ordinary people, it was something else entirely—the aroma of chicken wings marinated in that wine was almost irresistible. Qi Kun and Hu Erleng were practically drooling.

“Can you two have a little dignity? Wipe your mouths! Never had barbecue before? Lobster, step back! Your drool is about to drip onto the wings!” Yang Meng looked at them with disgust.

Qi Kun wiped his mouth. “What on earth did you put in this? What is that smell?”

“Oh, just a new marinade I came up with. Smells pretty good, but I’m not sure how it tastes yet,” Yang Meng said coolly.

“Let me try one first!” Qi Kun reached for a wing.

Yang Meng slapped his hand. “Are you crazy? They’re still raw!”

Qi Kun blinked. “I’ll just pretend I’m a foreigner eating rare steak.”

“Have some self-respect, will you? Wait a little longer!” Yang Meng shoved Qi Kun aside. “Look at Erleng—at least he has patience... Damn it, Erleng, you back off too!”

Hu Erleng looked no better than Qi Kun, drool streaming down as well.

After what felt like ages, Yang Meng finally finished grilling the wings. The two couldn’t wait, grabbing skewers and stuffing the piping hot wings straight into their mouths.

“Ahhh...” Both closed their eyes, faces blissful.

Yang Meng, curious, tried a wing himself. “Honestly, it tastes pretty normal. Are you guys taking acting lessons? Your performances are over the top.”

Qi Kun reacted strongly. “No way! I’ve never tasted chicken wings this good in my life! Makes everything I’ve eaten before feel like a waste.”

Hu Erleng agreed. “Stop pretending. These are amazing and you say they’re just ‘normal’? Are your taste buds broken?”

Yang Meng scratched his head. “I really think they’re just average.”

“Then don’t eat!” Qi Kun grabbed the rest of the grilled wings. “They’re all mine!”

“And mine too!” Hu Erleng joined in, and the two started tussling.

Yang Meng scratched his head again. Was it really that good?

Just then, there was another knock at the gate. Yang Meng pointed at the two. “Crazy’s here. If he sees you two like this, he’ll never let you live it down.”

“Shit, let’s eat faster before he steals ours!”

“Exactly! Quick, hand me another skewer!”

Yang Meng sighed. “You two, stop just eating—grill your own!”

“Right, right, put the meat on too!”

Yang Meng ignored the two buffoons and went to open the gate. But it wasn’t Crazy who’d arrived.

“Sister Ma? What brings you here?” he asked curiously.

The visitor was none other than Ma Fengying—‘Sister Ma’—who worked at the alley entrance in the evenings.

“Xiao Yang, I have something I’d like to discuss with you,” Ma Fengying said, looking hesitant.