Chapter Twenty-Six: Gifts Once Again

“Uncle Zhao, give me a bowl of tofu pudding, four fried dough sticks, and a tea egg!” The next morning, Yang Meng returned to Uncle Zhao’s breakfast stall.

Uncle Zhao, who sold breakfast, looked up and laughed, “Xiao Yang, off to the morning market again? My son told me yesterday you bought a really fancy motorcycle?”

Yang Meng grinned. “It was a gift from someone else!”

“There are such good things happening? My son said that bike costs at least twenty thousand!” Uncle Zhao ladled out the tofu pudding and served it to Yang Meng.

Yang Meng didn’t answer that question. The ‘Six-Eyed Demon’ for just over twenty thousand? Add a zero to that! And that’s not even counting taxes, registration, insurance, and everything else. In total, that bike would cost at least three hundred thousand. But he had no intention of showing off to Uncle Zhao.

“What can I say, Uncle Zhao? Someone thought I was handsome, insisted I become a live-in son-in-law, and gave me a motorcycle to play around with first.” Yang Meng joked.

Uncle Zhao sized him up and commented, “Well, you do have the looks for living off your wife, but do you have the temperament for that line of work?”

Yang Meng shook his head with a wry smile. “Definitely not. I’m too thin-skinned for that. Couldn’t make a living at it.”

Uncle Zhao burst out laughing, then looked down at Yang Meng’s feet. “Eh? Xiao Yang, you went to the morning market again?”

Yang Meng nodded. “Yeah, things there are cheap and fresh. I’m inviting a few buddies over today for a barbecue at my place. Buying and grilling the food myself, it’s more reassuring, right? Of all the breakfasts out there, I trust yours the most.”

Uncle Zhao laughed heartily. “You sure have a sweet tongue. Just for that, I’ll give you a tea egg on the house!”

“Thanks, Uncle Zhao!” Yang Meng took the tea egg.

“All right, hurry up and eat! You look like you didn’t sleep well last night. After you finish, go home and get some rest.”

Yang Meng nodded. He really hadn’t slept well last night. He’d been so excited he couldn’t fall asleep, now truly troubled by having too much money.

He had over 1.6 million in his pocket—the first time in his life he’d ever had so much. But here was the problem: why did he come out to work? Wasn’t it to make more money so his parents back home could live better? But after all these years in the city, his family knew exactly how much money he’d sent them. Suddenly giving them a huge sum would only make them worry. So he thought it over—he really needed to do something, not for the money, but to have a reason to send more back home.

With this in mind, he called Hu Erleng and the others, inviting them over for a barbecue to discuss what they might do next.

After breakfast, he strolled back to the entrance of the hutong with his plastic bags. He still needed to slice and marinate the meat—there was a lot of work ahead.

But as he reached his doorstep, Yang Meng couldn’t help but cover his face—Qian Mazi and Zheng Dapao were once again staring each other down.

“Brother Qian, you’re here early,” Yang Meng greeted.

Qian Mazi, seeing Yang Meng return, waved expansively. “Yang, you went shopping?”

Yang Meng smiled. “You could have called me, you know! Sorry to keep you waiting!”

Qian Mazi waved it off. “I just got here myself, then I ran into this guy.” He jerked his chin at Zheng Dapao.

Zheng Dapao glared, “Qian Mazi, that’s enough out of you! Gave you some face yesterday, and you’re still running your mouth? I’m here today to bring gifts for Brother Yang!” He pointed to his side. “All these are for Brother Yang!”

Only then did Yang Meng notice three motorcycle transport crates beside him. Whoa, these were serious gifts!

Zheng Dapao really had no choice but to go big—he was genuinely scared now.

He and Qian Mazi had always split the business at Zhao Village Market, but after yesterday, he realized he was no match for Qian Mazi. And since he’d been the one to pick the fight and kick Qian Mazi out, there was no way Qian Mazi wouldn’t get back at him now that he’d returned.

His own backer clearly wasn’t reliable—after Yang Meng’s intervention yesterday, the tables had turned. Now, even if Zhai Dacheng came back to the market, Zheng Dapao might not dare to face him.

Unlike Qian Mazi, he was just a used-car dealer with no other business interests. If he really got kicked out of Zhao Village Market, he’d be left with nothing.

As Qian Mazi said, don’t underestimate Zhao Village Market—a business as large as his could easily net two to three hundred thousand a month. He couldn’t afford to lose that.

Plus, since Qian Mazi got in first yesterday, today Zheng Dapao had to go all out.

Yang Meng opened his courtyard gate. “Don’t just stand out here, I’ve got my hands full. Come in and sit.”

At his invitation, Zheng Dapao hurriedly signaled his men to push the crates into the courtyard, while Qian Mazi took a large bag from his own underling and strolled in with Yang Meng, chatting and laughing. The contents were clearly a tea set.

“Yang, you’re really low-key. I never expected you to live in a place like this,” Qian Mazi said cheerfully.

Yang Meng brought out some tables and stools into the courtyard. “It’s simple here, Brother Qian, hope you don’t mind. I don’t have any good tea, so make do with what I’ve got.”

“Ah, we’re all rough men, who cares about that?” Qian Mazi pulled over a stool and sat down. “As long as there’s something to drink, I’m satisfied.”

Then he plopped the big bag on the table and began to unpack it, presenting each item as if showing off his spoils. “This is a ‘Dennis’ leather riding suit—one-piece and two separate sets, with a five-piece armor set and a cotton liner. Top-notch safety, windproof, waterproof, and cold-resistant. Here’s a set of ten riding shirts and sweat-wicking shirts—you can wear them for riding or working out, or even as thermal underwear if you like. Here’s a large motorcycle helmet backpack—the helmet fits right in. Oh, and titanium alloy gloves and riding boots—all genuine, not knock-offs. The only place to get authentic ‘Dennis’ gear in our city is from me. But I thought Dennis helmets were a bit old-fashioned for you, and I don’t have any good AGV helmets, so I got you a Japanese Marushin helmet. The shell is made of high-grade carbon fiber and unsaturated resin, plus high-density EPS for unmatched safety. The best part is its youthful design. And I’ve set you up with a high-definition camera inside, so you can record your rides.”

Yang Meng watched as Qian Mazi pulled out piece after piece of motorcycle gear like a magician, barely able to get a word in edgewise. But that Marushin helmet was particularly interesting—it even had two “ears” on top, making it look like the head of a robot from an anime.

“Brother Qian, why did you get me two helmets?” There was a pair—one black and white, the other red and white.

Qian Mazi grinned, “What’s the point of a great bike if you don’t take a girl along? That one’s for your passenger!”

Yang Meng gave a thumbs-up, “Brother Qian, you think of everything!”

Seeing Yang Meng’s satisfaction, Qian Mazi was even more pleased. “Of course! A man’s life is all about money or women. Well, what do you think—are you satisfied?”

Yang Meng nodded. “More than satisfied. I can’t wait to suit up and ride the mountain roads!”

Now he understood why some men couldn’t resist the temptations of bribery—when something you love is laid out before you, it’s hard to say no.

Qian Mazi laughed, “I can’t wait to see you in full gear riding the ‘Six-Eyed Demon’.”

Yang Meng was about to reply when Zheng Dapao, who’d been busying himself, finally came over. “Brother Yang, you don’t have to ride the ‘Six-Eyed Demon’ for fun on the mountain roads.”

Qian Mazi chuckled, “Oh? I’d like to see what you, with your small-time style, can offer.”

Zheng Dapao snorted, “Brother Yang, I’m not as rich as Qian Mazi. I just deal in used bikes—can’t afford those fancy new ones, but I’ve still got some good stuff in my inventory.”

He gestured, and his men opened the first crate. “This is a 2013 Triumph Bonneville T100. Most so-called retro bikes these days are based on the Bonneville. It’s an air-cooled, parallel twin engine, but with 865cc displacement, it’s got plenty of power. Triumphs are favorites among celebrities—Beckham, the guy who plays ‘Deadpool,’ they all ride these.”

The second crate opened. “This one needs no introduction—the Harley 883 SuperLow. As Harley-Davidson’s entry-level bike, it’s relatively affordable, but it’s still a Harley. Take it out, and you’ll turn heads. With its low seat, it’s especially comfortable to ride.”

“As for the last one—” Zheng Dapao paused for effect. “This one’s the real star!”

Yang Meng’s curiosity was piqued. What star? This crate was clearly larger than the other two.

When Zheng Dapao’s men opened it, Yang Meng’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Is that a Rocket III?”

Zheng Dapao shook his head with a hint of pride, “No, no. This is the 2015 Rocket V!”

Yang Meng’s eyes lit up like stars. “The 2015 Rocket V? Isn’t that a global limited edition of just 500 units?”

Zheng Dapao laughed. “Brother Yang, you really know your stuff! That bike belonged to the son of a wealthy family. When it arrived, he was overseas, gambled away most of his money, and nearly couldn’t afford to come home. Had to sell the bike just to buy food. So it’s practically brand new!”

Yang Meng didn’t even hear the rest. He walked straight over to the bike, inspecting it closely.

The Rocket V, also made by Triumph, is a beast—known as the world’s largest production motorcycle. With an engine displacement of 2.3 liters, it rivals most cars! The tires are comically thick—from behind, it looks like a road roller. Now this was a real cruiser.

With all three machines lined up in front of him, Yang Meng was practically drooling. Zheng Dapao had really put thought into this: a cruiser, a retro bike, a street bike—something for every taste.

But Yang Meng had already accepted Qian Mazi’s ‘Six-Eyed Demon.’ Could he really accept a bike from his rival too?

He was torn.