Chapter 40: The Monkey

This lunch marked quite a splurge for Zhao Guoyang. The nine of them racked up a bill of over forty yuan, which, in this era, was considered rather high-end.

Of course, Zhao Guoyang was unaware that Wang Youchang had already made up his mind to reimburse him for the meal later. Director Wang, for his part, found Zhao Guoyang increasingly pleasing to the eye. In his opinion, this young man was nothing short of extraordinary, almost miraculous—a person whose future achievements were impossible to predict.

With the fuel tank issue properly resolved, Zhao Guoyang finally had time that afternoon to study the blueprint of the step-through motorcycle from Sanyang Group. He devoted the entire afternoon to analyzing the frame schematic. Though he didn’t find the design particularly sophisticated, he needed to break down the frame diagram into smaller sections so Hua Guosheng could draft the tooling drawings. It was a meticulous and time-consuming task.

“If only I had a computer and a printer,” Zhao Guoyang muttered, stretching after finishing the main component sketches of the frame.

“Ah, it’s already dark?” Glancing outside at the pitch-black sky, Zhao Guoyang realized he had worked well past quitting time.

“Yes, Guoyang.” Behind him, Hua Guosheng approached with a smile, handing him a cigarette. “You’re so efficient with these schematics. I only managed to draw tooling diagrams for seven parts all afternoon, but you’ve already finished more than half of the blueprints. Impressive…”

Hua Guosheng had made a mistake with the fuel tank issue; if not for Zhao Guoyang, he would certainly have lost his bonus. Now that he’d dodged that bullet, he felt a bit embarrassed, so he volunteered to stay and work overtime with Zhao Guoyang.

“Master Hua, you haven’t left yet?” Zhao Guoyang asked in surprise as he accepted the cigarette.

“Well, Guoyang, you said yourself—Sanyang Group is pressing for this batch of C100 frames. We have only half a month to finish them. My drawing speed is slow; if I don’t work overtime, we’ll fall behind,” Hua Guosheng replied.

Zhao Guoyang was comforted to find that Hua Guosheng was such a responsible old hand. He thought for a moment, then said, “Thanks for your hard work, Master Hua. But with just the two of us burning the midnight oil, we’ll never make it. We need to rely on the collective effort.”

“I think Xu Dongfeng is a clever guy. Starting tomorrow, let him draw with you. Begin with the simplest sketches and let him practice. If he makes mistakes, you can correct him.”

“Alright, I’ll give him a few easy tooling diagrams tomorrow. Xu’s basics aren’t bad—he did go to technical school, after all,” Hua Guosheng agreed with a nod.

Zhao Guoyang checked the time—almost eight o’clock. His stomach was growling, so he invited Hua Guosheng out for a late-night snack.

“Oh, no, Guoyang, I’d better not. It’s already late. If I don’t get home soon, my wife will scold me. I’ll be off then!” Hua Guosheng waved his hands in refusal.

Seeing that Hua Guosheng was unwilling, Zhao Guoyang didn’t insist and simply nodded, watching him leave.

Not long after, Zhao Guoyang, unable to bear his hunger any longer, packed up and left as well. Back at the dormitory, he found that Xu Dongfeng hadn’t returned yet—he was likely out wandering again. Zhao Guoyang had hoped to borrow Xu’s bicycle to grab some food, but seeing no other option, he set out on foot.

Ninghai City’s downtown was compact; though Hongda Machinery Factory was near the outskirts, it wasn’t far from the city center. Twenty minutes later, Zhao Guoyang found himself in the heart of the city—outside the Mei Heming Grand Theater.

Mr. Mei Heming, whose ancestral home was Ninghai, was a famous Peking Opera performer and the pride of the city. The theater in the city center was named in his honor.

The area around Mei Heming Grand Theater was the liveliest part of Ninghai in those days. Night markets, food stalls, acrobatic performers—there was no end to the bustle. Each vendor had set up a small, tidy tent, creating a lively atmosphere.

The aroma of Lanzhou noodles wafted from one of the tents, making Zhao Guoyang swallow involuntarily.

“Boss, one bowl of noodles, please!”

Seated inside the Lanzhou noodle tent, Zhao Guoyang instantly felt warmth spread through his body.

“Alright, one bowl of Lanzhou noodles! Would you like to add beef?” the vendor asked.

“Yes, please. And if you have cilantro, add some too!” Zhao Guoyang replied, rubbing his hands together.

“Sure thing, just a moment!” the vendor said cheerfully.

With practiced hands, the man kneaded the dough, tore off a chunk, and began his noodle-pulling performance. In no time, thin strands of noodles appeared, deftly stretched between his fingers.

With only Zhao Guoyang in the tent, it wasn’t long before the vendor served his bowl. Zhao Guoyang took the large bowl, inhaled deeply, and began to eat with relish.

It had to be said: the noodles from this stall were truly delicious. In just a few gulps, Zhao Guoyang devoured the generous bowl, then turned his attention to the broth.

As he sipped the soup, a wiry young man wearing a battered baseball cap entered the tent. He wasn’t tall and carried a heavy-looking woven sack on his back. The cap gave him a distinct air of the times.

Upon entering and seeing that one table was already occupied, the young man sat at the other.

The noodle vendor called out, “Here for noodles, sir? Would you like beef with that?”

“No need, just plain noodles,” the young man replied, swallowing hard.

“Alright, just a moment!” the vendor shouted.

Something about the young man’s voice struck Zhao Guoyang as strangely familiar.

Soon, the noodles arrived. The young man took off his cap, ready to eat. With the cap on, Zhao Guoyang hadn’t gotten a good look, but now, seeing the man’s face clearly, he paused in surprise.

He studied the young man quietly for a moment. Once he was sure, Zhao Guoyang stood up and walked over. “Aren’t you… ‘Monkey’?”

The young man seemed startled at the nickname and nearly dropped his bowl. When he saw Zhao Guoyang’s face, incredulity spread across his features. “Guoyang?”

“Guoyang, it’s you!”

The young man in the cap looked at Zhao Guoyang in disbelief, standing up, visibly moved.

“Hey, it really is you, Monkey!” Hearing his own name called, Zhao Guoyang instantly recognized his high school classmate and closest friend from his hazy memories.

Old friends reunited—both were overcome with excitement for a moment.