In the 90s, you could acquire max-level skills every 14 days.

Zhang Defa arrived early, waiting at the exit of the long-distance bus station before noon.

It was hot, and the asphalt pavement in the station square had softened in the sun, making it a bit sticky underfoot.

Long-distance buses came and went one after another, the smell of diesel fuel mixed with the smell of dust, plus the smoke from the pancake stalls next door, making people squint.

There were noisy people everywhere, and a few people were holding wooden signs with their names on them and waiting.

Zhang Defa, wearing his faded blue overalls, stood outside the iron railings at the station exit, craning his neck to peer inside.

He held a half-smoked cigarette butt in his hand, not smoking it, just twisting it back and forth.

Zhang Yong arrived a little late, but he spotted his father in the crowd immediately.

He parked his motorcycle across the street, but didn't go over; he just watched from a distance.

At 12:15, the bus from the direction of Baoding finally pulled into the station.

The lower half of the car was covered in mud, and a handwritten note that read "Baoding-BJ" was stuck on the windshield.

As soon as the car door opened, people poured out.

"Get off one by one! Hold onto your things! Don't push! Pushing won't help, the door is only so big!" The bus driver's voice was immediately drowned out by the surrounding noise.

Zhang Yong stood at a distance, his gaze sweeping over each person in the crowd, until most of the people on the bus had come out.

A man in his early fifties slowly crawled out of the car.

He was wearing a drab cotton jacket and a pair of liberation shoes, carrying a bulging burlap sack, his right hand on the car door handle, walking very slowly.

His legs were limping, and he needed a young man next to him to help him down the car steps.

It's Zhang Dewang.

Zhang Yong recognized him. Although he had never met this uncle before—or rather, his soul had never met the uncle before—this uncle was just too... pretentious.

The acting was so skillful, every movement seemed to have been planned out, it was clear he was a veteran actor.

Zhang Defa recognized his elder brother at a glance. He stuffed the cigarette butt into his pocket and rushed over in a few quick steps.

"Brother! Big brother!"

The moment Zhang Dewang looked up and saw Zhang Defa, his dark, thin face was filled with sadness, and his hands trembled.

"Third brother!"

Zhang Dewang threw the sack on the ground and grabbed Zhang Defa's wrist, shaking it violently.

"Third brother! You've gotten so dark!"

Zhang Defa's lips trembled, and his eyes reddened as he quickly continued speaking.

"Brother, I got that sunburn from driving. You've lost weight, bro."

"I'm not thin, I can still eat and drink." Zhang Dewang wiped his eyes. "I just missed you. It's been over a year since we last met."

Zhang Dewang held Zhang Defa's hand tightly and started muttering to himself.

"Things are going well at home this year. The corn is good, and we harvested over 600 jin of peanuts. I picked out some of the good ones and packed them in a bag for you. They're still fresh. There are also about ten salted duck eggs that your sister-in-law pickled. Keep an eye on them later so they don't break."

Zhang Defa took the heavy sack and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

"Brother, let's go home first."

"Hey, no rush, no rush." ​​Zhang Dewang tugged at his sleeve and pulled him aside, his voice becoming softer.

"Third brother, there's something I need to tell you."

"After the fifth brother's wife ran away..."

Zhang Defa paused for a moment.

"Your brother is so stubborn. He's lying at home refusing to eat or drink, and he's as thin as a stick. Your sister-in-law and I are so worried we can't sleep."

Zhang Dewang wiped his face with his sleeve.

"I really begged and pleaded, and searched all the surrounding villages before finally finding one who agreed. They're from a neighboring village, and their conditions are decent. It's just... they want to raise the bride price even more..."

"good……"

Zhang Defa uttered a single word, then closed his mouth again.

He wanted to agree to all of them, but then he remembered his son's instructions.

"Wow, it's huge... Brother, let's go home first. We'll talk about it when we get home."

Zhang Dewang nodded and wiped his face again.

Seeing that the time was right, Zhang Yong walked across the street.

Looking closely at Zhang Dewang's face, he was dark-skinned, thin, with high cheekbones and deep-set eyes; he certainly looked like a man with a tragic fate.

But Zhang Yong still noticed a few details.

First, it was Zhang Dewang's hand.

His nails were neatly trimmed, with no dirt under them, and no calluses on the base of his thumb. Farmers don't have hands like that.

Next were the liberation shoes on his feet. There was some mud on the uppers, but the uppers were almost unworn and looked brand new. It was like new shoes covered in old mud.

At last.

Zhang Yong's gaze fell on the corner of the burlap sack on the ground.

The burlap sack had two patches on it and looked like it had been used for many years. However, there was a dark oil stain on the bottom of the sack.

It doesn't look like vegetable oil.

Zhang Yong's nose twitched.

[Auto Repair Lv.5: Smell Identification - Mineral base oil residue, high sulfur content, suspected to be recycled base oil or waste engine oil.]

His eyes narrowed.

It seems that this burlap sack was placed next to the oil drum or directly in the place where waste oil was stored before it was filled with peanuts and salted duck eggs.

The color is so dark and it's layered, it must have been there for more than one day.

"Uncle."

Zhang Yong approached, speaking politely but not warmly.

Zhang Dewang looked up, saw Zhang Yong, and was taken aback for a moment. Then his gaze went over Zhang Yong's shoulder and landed on the brand-new Jialing 125 behind him.

The red body and chrome exhaust pipes gleamed dazzlingly in the sun.

Zhang Dewang's eyes darted around.

"Hey! This is... Yuko?"

Zhang Dewang released Zhang Defa's hand, looked Zhang Yong up and down, and put on a smile.

"You've grown so tall! Last time I saw you, you were just a little boy!"

Zhang Yong nodded. "Uncle, you must be tired from the journey."

"No trouble at all!" Zhang Dewang waved his hand, his gaze drifting back to the motorcycle. "Yongzi, did you drive that car over here?"

"Um."

"Wow!" Zhang Dewang's tone became exaggerated. "That must be several thousand, right? Where did you make your fortune?"

Zhang Yong didn't respond to that question, but just smiled at Zhang Defa.

"My mom is cooking at home, I just came to lend a hand. Dad, you take Uncle back by bus. I'll carry this heavy thing back first, then I'll help my mom tidy up."

As Zhang Yong spoke, he reached out and took the sack from Zhang Defa's shoulder.

"Let me hold this for you; it'll be easier to tie it to the back of your motorcycle."

Zhang Dewang smiled naturally and praised the child for being sensible.

"Alright, alright, then I'll trouble you, Yongzi."

Zhang Yong tied the sack to the back seat and nodded to Zhang Defa.

"Dad, the bus stop for Route 3 is just ahead. You take Uncle and let him ride the bus slowly. I'm heading back now."

Zhang Defa grunted in agreement and obediently led Zhang Dewang toward the bus stop.

Zhang Yong mounted the Jialing 125 and twisted the throttle.

The sound of motorcycles rang out amidst the traffic at Liuliqiao.

Head straight for Jinsong Residential Area.

As we approached the alley entrance, we suddenly turned onto the road leading to the Chaoyang District Police Station.

……