Won't Amount to Much

April 30, 1987. Capital City. Moderate rain.

Li Ye drove to work with upbeat music playing, happily making his way down the road.

On rainy days, every car owner's happiness index inevitably went up by one. After all, they usually had to bear hefty expenses for fuel, insurance, tire wear, and so on. Compared with riding an electric bike, it often seemed like they had wasted far too much money.

But when bad weather struck and they saw Yadea and Xiaodao riders trudging along the roadside, soaked to the bone, a car bought for a hundred thousand suddenly felt like it was worth eighty thousand of that back.

Some people even deliberately plowed through the puddles by the roadside, as if the spray they kicked up could wash away the darkness in their hearts and give them twelve parts pleasure.

Li Ye was a good man with sunshine in his heart, so he nimbly avoided the standing water on both sides of the road all the way, lest he splash pedestrians and cyclists.

That naturally meant he was not driving very fast. A few kilometers from work, a 213 Jeep suddenly overtook him.

After passing him, the Jeep immediately turned right, clearly intending to block Li Ye's Santana.

Without a word, Li Ye shifted into reverse and backed away before the other party could get out.

People feared fame as pigs feared growing fat. In these times, there was no shortage of idiots willing to kill over tens of thousands of yuan. Li Ye could be considered modestly wealthy, so he stayed vigilant at all times and avoided any contact with danger.

But Li Ye soon realized he had been overly wary, because he recognized the man who got out of the 213 Jeep. It was factory director Kan, who