Chapter Seventeen: Choosing a Car

The so-called 'Ghost Fire' motorcycle refers to the Yamaha RSZ, a small scooter with a 100cc engine, known for its flashy appearance and quick acceleration, making it very popular among young people. However, a genuine 'Ghost Fire' costs upwards of six or seven thousand yuan and is hard to come by, so about ninety-nine percent of the ones seen on the market are knock-offs.

Many minors, unable to afford the real deal but still enamored by the 'Ghost Fire', opt for these imitations. They're dubbed 'Ghost Fire Youth', and after equipping their bikes with noisy exhaust pipes, the sound is thunderous and the ride looks cool. Most of these 'Ghost Fire Youth' don't even have a license, and engage in illegal modifications, unlicensed, and even unregistered riding.

So, despite the bike's modest top speed and small engine, the knock-off 'Ghost Fire' currently has the highest fatality rate among motorcycles.

Yang Meng continued, "I grew up riding manual motorcycles, so I'm actually not used to riding ones with automatic transmissions."

Hearing this, Duan Bowen was secretly pleased—talking about shared interests really was a great way to get closer to someone. He pressed on, "As far as I know, these big bikes all use international gear patterns. Are you comfortable with that?"

Yang Meng chuckled, "Don't underestimate me. I may have grown up in a small mountain village, but I really did learn to ride on bikes with international gears."

"I'm all ears," Duan Bowen prompted.

"In our village, there was a guy named Xiao Peng. His sister married a foreigner while working out of town, and bought Xiao Peng a Honda CBR250-MC22. Heaven knows, that was the first time we realized such motorcycles even existed in the world. I later learned that the CBR250-CM22 had been discontinued for years and his was a second-hand bike, but that didn't stop us from worshipping Xiao Peng. Every day, we'd trail behind him, just hoping to get a chance to ride it. Back then, every girl for miles around dreamed of riding on the back of his bike. As a kid, I dreamed night after night of owning a bike like that." Yang Meng wore a look of longing as he spoke.

Duan Bowen saw his chance. "I get it—you learned to ride international gear bikes on that one, right? Why not buy the same model? After all, it's a cherished childhood memory."

But Yang Meng replied, "That bike has long since been mine. How else do you think I learned how to fix motorcycles? It's parked back home now."

Duan Bowen asked, somewhat dejected, "How did he ever agree to sell you such a great bike?"

Yang Meng laughed, "Xiao Peng broke his leg and couldn't ride it anymore. We were on good terms, so he transferred the bike to me!"

Duan Bowen was at a loss for words, finally managing, "Riding motorcycles is really dangerous. Breaking your leg so young—what happens next?"

Yang Meng, head down inspecting a bike, answered without looking up, "He didn't break his leg in a crash! Old Man Niu from the neighboring village has three daughters—and Xiao Peng got two of them pregnant. If I were Old Man Niu, I'd have broken his legs too. Old Man Niu wanted nothing more than to smash his bike to pieces, so Xiao Peng transferred it to me in a hurry to avoid the loss."

Duan Bowen was left speechless. How was he supposed to continue this conversation? It was clear that what mattered most was to get Yang Meng to make up his mind and buy a bike soon, but judging by Yang Meng's careful scrutiny, it could easily be dark before a decision was made!

Yang Meng really had no choice but to be picky—the second-hand motorcycle market was full of pitfalls!

All motorcycles fell into one of three categories: 'official imports', 'gray imports', and 'contraband'.

'Official imports' referred to bikes brought in through proper channels, with 3C certification and full after-sales support from the manufacturers, though the options were limited. 'Gray imports' came in under government incentives for foreign-invested enterprises, allowing qualified companies to purchase imported vehicles. Some dealers would bribe these companies for quotas and bring in bikes at about 30% below market price, often including rare models. However, buyers had to handle repairs and warranties themselves, and couldn't resell or transfer ownership within six years.

'Contraband' referred to smuggled bikes, which came in several types: the best were brand-new smuggled bikes, while used ones were called 'first-hand pure contraband'. Stolen bikes smuggled from abroad were known as 'rat goods'. Many contraband bikes arrived as parts and were then assembled and refurbished by mechanics—no matter how broken the parts, they could be restored to look complete, making quality and handling highly unpredictable. There were many gems in the second-hand market, but you needed to know your bikes to spot them.

If you ended up with a lemon, there was no recourse for faulty quality. And if you bought a contraband bike? The police would seize it on sight, and you could even be detained—definitely not worth the risk.

Given all of this, could Yang Meng afford not to be careful?

"Mr. Yang, I noticed that green bike caught your eye earlier, and you seemed quite pleased with it. Why not buy it?" Duan Bowen asked, pointing to a motorcycle.

Yang Meng cocked his head for a glance. "Ah, you mean the Ninja 400? That's a fine bike. The Kawasaki Ninja series is a benchmark for good-looking sport bikes. It's a great entry-level big bike, a standout among 400cc models: liquid-cooled, fuel-injected, 310mm dual-piston single disc up front, single-piston dual caliper in the rear—sure, it's a bit 'soft', but with ABS, it's very safe. Plus, it has a race-grade slipper clutch. If you're learning to ride big bikes, you couldn't ask for a better choice. If it has a flaw... Well, anyone under 1.7 meters tall should avoid it—the seat's a bit high."

Duan Bowen quickly asked, "Then why aren't you buying it, Mr. Yang?"

Yang Meng replied with pride, "Like I said, it's an entry-level big bike. A veteran like me—how could I settle for this? Besides, it's an official import, so I need to give it some thought. It's on my shortlist."

"But aren't official imports the best? The way you say it, it almost sounds like a downside," Duan Bowen said, confused.

Yang Meng sighed, "All the Ninja 400 official imports in the country are restricted versions, capped at a top speed of 135 kilometers per hour. Sure, with a little tweaking you can get it up to 180, but I don't really like that."

It's an interesting point: in the domestic motorcycle market, genuine big-displacement bikes over 1000cc are usually unrestricted, but smaller-displacement big bikes are all speed-limited before being sold. The Ninja 400 is among those.

Duan Bowen hurried to ask, "So what kind of bike are you looking for, Mr. Yang?"

Yang Meng grinned, "Honestly, I want something with a bigger engine for the thrill. Like that one over there."

Duan Bowen's eyes lit up at the black motorcycle Yang Meng pointed out. "What's that? Looks awesome!"

Yang Meng explained, "That's the Benelli BN600, the only four-cylinder motorcycle made domestically. It's the result of our country's motorcycle company acquiring Benelli. For its price, it's a great value. Among four-cylinder bikes of similar displacement, it's the cheapest. A new ABS model is less than fifty thousand yuan."

"How much for a second-hand one?" Duan Bowen asked curiously.

Yang Meng pointed to the price tag on the bike. "Isn't it written right there? Twenty-seven thousand."

Duan Bowen's eyes shone. Determined to get Yang Meng to make a decision, he pressed, "So why not buy this one? If it were me, I'd do it in a heartbeat!"

Yang Meng laughed, "I might buy another, but not this one—no way."

"Why not?" Duan Bowen asked, puzzled.

Yang Meng explained, "This is the 2012 model of the BN600. It has a design flaw—the front end is too high, and the shock absorber is much thicker than the frame and fork connection. So if the frame takes a hit, the front end snaps clean off. That's why enthusiasts call it the 'Headless Dragon'. But after 2013, the factory fixed this, and the problem was resolved. This one here had its front end broken and then repaired. Buying it for twenty-seven thousand would just be money down the drain. So, no."

Duan Bowen gave a thumbs up, laying on the flattery. "You really know your bikes—a true expert!"

Yang Meng chuckled, "What kind of expert am I? Back home, you might find people who can't use a computer or a smartphone, but you won't find anyone who doesn't know motorcycles. Every household relies on them to get around."

Suddenly, Duan Bowen thought of something worrying and quickly asked, "Mr. Yang, the way you're so meticulous, do you have decision anxiety?"

If Yang Meng really did, who knew how long it would take to choose?

Yang Meng retorted, "Anxiety my foot. Ninety-nine percent of decision anxiety comes down to one thing: being broke! If I had money, I'd be at the dealership, not here picking through used bikes!"

Duan Bowen breathed a sigh of relief and offered a fawning smile, "Mr. Yang, you really are a character. Take your time."

He finally understood—chatting with Yang Meng was only wasting his time picking out a bike. Yang Meng shot him a look as if to say, "You think I need you to tell me to take my time? Of course I will!"

He felt as if he was looking for a partner—picking out flaws in all these bikes, oblivious to the fact that the bikes were rejecting him for being broke.

A Ducati Scrambler 800cc official import, asking price ninety thousand; a BMW S1000R official import, asking price one hundred seventy thousand; the official import BMW G310R was cheaper at forty-five thousand, but buying that would be pointless when compared to the Ninja 400.

Ah, poverty! Now he understood what decision anxiety truly felt like.

Just as Yang Meng was caught up in his dilemma, a discordant voice rang out behind him.

"Hey, you! Are you here to buy a bike or make trouble? Got the guts to cause a scene here? You must have nerves of steel!"