Chapter Six: Your Approach to Wooing Women Is Rather Crude

“What? Your motorcycle’s been stolen again?” Old Liu’s voice came through the phone, surprised at Yang Meng’s curses. “That’s the third one this year, isn’t it?”

Yang Meng’s expression was grim. “What is it with me today? First, I almost lost my life, and now my motorcycle’s gone. I should’ve never left the house.”

“Huh? What do you mean, almost lost your life?” Old Liu asked, curiosity piqued.

Yang Meng shook his head. “Never mind, just venting.”

Old Liu chuckled. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but these days, thieves only go after the easy prey. If you bought a really expensive motorcycle, no one would touch it. It’s only these cheap bikes that get stolen all the time.”

Yang Meng gave a wry smile. “You think I don’t want a 1000CC beast? I just can’t afford one. Forget it, I won’t keep you. I’m off to the DMV to file a report. At this rate, I’m practically a regular there.”

Old Liu burst out laughing. “Go on then, and don’t forget to come back for the meeting!”

Yang Meng nodded. “Got it. I’ll bring you a couple of packs of cigarettes, otherwise, it’ll be another five hundred down the drain to old Zhou the Skinflint.”

“It’s nothing between colleagues.” They exchanged a few pleasantries and hung up.

Thinking about his stolen motorcycle again, Yang Meng sighed. Well, at least I still have my life, but my money’s gone!

Which is more important, life or money? Of course… money!

You can come back in the next life, but if you don’t make money in this one, you’ll die with regret.

Now, he might be the Great Emperor of Mount Tai, but what did that get him? Catching ghosts with the few basic spells he knew? In this day and age? If he went around bragging about catching ghosts, would he just end up in a psychiatric ward?

And as for that mysterious immortal who gave him Yi Di’s magical wine gourd, claiming it could cure all diseases… Did immortals even bother to make their lies convincing? Society is progressing, and so are diseases! Back in their day, did they have AIDS? Ebola? SARS? Could Yi Di’s medicinal wine really cure those?

What if he wandered into a hospital to treat someone? The best-case scenario, he’d be mistaken for a con artist. And if something went wrong, even if he cured someone, the credit would go to the doctors, and the blame would fall squarely on him! These days, everyone is obsessed with self-preservation. Would he really volunteer to stick his neck out? Only a fool would rush to take the bullet.

If something falls from the sky, it’s never a real pie. Better to keep his feet on the ground and earn an honest living. Tonight’s meeting meant a free meal and a hundred yuan in pocket. Even taking a day off, he’d still get paid—not bad at all.

But first things first: he had to go to the police. Losing a motorcycle was no small matter!

Recovering a stolen bike was nearly impossible, especially his kind of cheap model. The police didn’t consider it a big case, so there was no way it would be found within hours like when a foreigner lost a bicycle in China. Usually, you’d only get your bike back by sheer luck when the cops busted a major theft ring and happened to recover a batch of stolen motorcycles.

Still, as unlikely as it was to get his bike back, Yang Meng had to file a report. If he didn’t, and the stolen bike was involved in an accident, as the registered owner, he’d be held responsible. So, he had to report the theft immediately and have the bike deregistered; otherwise, it would be a major hassle the next time he tried to register a vehicle.

The process was a nightmare. First, you had to take your ID and all the bike’s documents to the police station to file a report. The police would then issue a stolen vehicle certificate, which you’d take to the DMV to update their records. Having had two bikes stolen before, Yang Meng was a pro at this by now.

And this time, he’d learned his lesson: he’d bought theft insurance for his latest bike. If the police didn’t find it within two months, the insurance company would pay out. But to claim compensation, he’d need to provide the police report and DMV records, or he wouldn’t see a cent!

So, the first thing to do after a theft was to file a report at the police station.

Running around to complete all these procedures was exhausting. Yang Meng spent the entire afternoon getting everything done, then hurried to the depot—Zhou the Skinflint was buying dinner tonight, and that didn’t happen often!

But when he arrived, he found the gates locked. All the delivery bikes were there, but the people were gone.

He quickly called Old Liu. “Old Liu, where is everyone?”

Old Liu’s mouth was clearly full as he answered, voice muffled, “Xiao Yang, where are you? Why aren’t you back yet?”

Yang Meng looked around. “I’m right outside the depot. Why’s there no one here?”

Old Liu lowered his voice. “Word is, if you didn’t show up, you’d lose money. And Zhou the Skinflint is buying dinner, so everyone came back. Zhou loves a show—he borrowed a conference room from the property management. We’re all eating up here now.”

Yang Meng was curious. “So, what’s for dinner?”

Old Liu’s voice dropped even further. “Come on, you think Zhou the Skinflint would ever go above and beyond? It’s just a boxed meal—two veggie sides and an egg. Retail price five yuan, wholesale three.”

“Damn!” Yang Meng couldn’t help but curse. “I thought so. Getting Zhou to spend real money is like squeezing blood from a stone.”

“Enough complaining, get up here. Everyone has to sign in. It’s in the office building behind the depot—just take the elevator to the eighteenth floor. If you’re not quick, even those three-yuan box meals will be gone!” Old Liu said.

“Alright, I’m coming!” Yang Meng hung up and sprinted toward the office building. Even a three-yuan boxed meal was still food, wasn’t it? Better than going hungry.

When he reached the office building, just as he emerged from the underground parking lot, an elevator opened. The scene inside startled him at first, but after a moment’s hesitation, he walked in.

Inside were two women. One was the very picture of beauty, in her twenties—the kind of woman who’d make you turn your head for a second look. By Yang Meng’s standards, she was at least an 85. It was late autumn and freezing, yet she wore a business suit with a skirt and sheer stockings instead of tights. Clearly, she wasn’t bothered by the cold.

Well, she probably had a car, and went from heated car to heated building. Not like him, riding a motorcycle all day—others wore one pair of long johns, he wore three; others wore one sweater, he wore three! Otherwise, he’d have arthritis for sure when he was old.

But it wasn’t her who caught Yang Meng’s attention—it was the other girl beside her.

This “girl” was truly unique. Yang Meng swore she couldn’t be more than her early twenties, but dark circles ringed her eyes, making her look like a panda. Clearly, she kept terrible hours. She stood about 1.7 meters tall and easily weighed 180 pounds. As for her looks—Director Feng once made a film that perfectly described her: “A Sigh.”

Yet the two were clearly close. The heavier girl slung an arm around the beauty’s shoulders with a manly air, and the beauty, for her part, didn’t seem to mind bearing the weight.

So they were a couple—what people call a lesbian pair. Not so uncommon these days.

Yang Meng didn’t hide his curiosity. He’d never met a lesbian couple before. The two women noticed his gaze and tilted their heads to look at him in unison.

It’s said that “when granaries are full, people learn etiquette; when food and clothing are sufficient, they know honor and shame.” For someone like Yang Meng, who lived hand to mouth, being a gentleman was out of the question. He even had the urge to take out his phone and snap a photo.

The hefty girl looked at him with curiosity. “Hmm? Are you looking at me?”

The beauty in the suit looked gentle enough, but her words were anything but. She glared at Yang Meng. “Hey! What are you staring at?”

Yang Meng replied nonchalantly, “How would you know I’m looking at you unless you’re looking at me? Besides, I’m not looking at you—I’m looking at your chubby friend.”

“What?” The beauty’s eyes widened.

The hefty girl pointed at her own nose. “You really can see me?”

Yang Meng was taken aback. What kind of question was that? The elevator was so small, just the three of them—how could he not see her? He said impatiently, “With a face as big as yours, how could I not see you?”

The beauty glared at him. “What did you say? Who are you calling fat-faced?”

The hefty girl’s expression turned serious. She spoke in a chilling tone, “So someone really can see me! What are you, a Taoist priest? A sorcerer?”

Yang Meng stared at her, head to toe. Normally, he wouldn’t have looked closely, but now he gasped. “Huh… a ghost?”

The heavyset girl had no feet, floating beside the beautiful woman. No wonder the beauty didn’t seem weighed down—she was a ghost!

Damn, after visiting the Temple of Mount Tai, he really could see ghosts now?

This was the first time he’d seen a ghost, and he was nervous.

But the beautiful woman snorted. “Who are you calling a ghost? Oh, I get it, this is your pickup line? Please, that’s the lamest way to hit on a woman. I have zero interest in men like you.”

Well, wasn’t she full of herself? Ignorance really is bliss.

“Believe what you like, but I have no interest in you either. I have a girlfriend. I’m just giving you a heads-up—there’s a female ghost following you around, and she’s at least three times your size. Careful she doesn’t smother you in your sleep!”