A leisurely life starting in a bar after being reborn

When Zhang Lei got back into the car, Wang Mengmeng stared at him.

Who was that person who was talking to you just now?

"Who?" Zhang Lei paused in fastening his seatbelt. "Oh, you mean Fu Yan? My college classmate."

"Your college classmate?" Wang Mengmeng tilted her head and thought for a moment. "You have classmates this handsome?"

Zhang Lei turned to look at her: "Do you have some misunderstanding about my classmate?"

Thinking about it, it makes sense. Their major is computer science, and most of their classmates are coders and IT guys who are known for being unkempt.

"No, I've met most of your friends. They're either bald, fat, or both bald and fat..." Wang Mengmeng counted on her fingers. "This one is different. He's tall, has a smart look, and looks...noble."

"Luxury?" Zhang Lei started the CRV and slowly drove away with the car in front. "You're absolutely right. This kid got into Stanford's graduate program before even graduating from his senior year. He spent many years abroad, just returned, and now he's settled in Yanjing. He bought a house in Houhai."

"Houhai?" Wang Mengmeng's eyes lit up. "That place..."

"Yeah, it's either a traditional courtyard house or a mixed-use commercial/residential property, either way, it's not cheap." Zhang Lei glanced in the rearview mirror, where Fu Yan's Land Rover was following behind. "Look at his car, a Land Rover Defender, it'll cost at least six or seven hundred thousand yuan after all."

Wang Mengmeng didn't reply, but her expression clearly changed. It wasn't that she was particularly interested in money—she was a girl from Beijing, and had seen plenty of wealthy people since childhood, so she wasn't interested. The main thing was that the word "Stanford" struck a chord with her. Unlike Zhang Lei, she graduated from an ordinary university, and the highest degree anyone around her had was a master's degree from a 211 university. Stanford? That was something she only saw on television.

"Are you classmates or in the same class?"

"We were in the same class, in the Computer Science department, and we were in the same class for all four years."

"So, are you two close?"

"So-so." Zhang Lei thought for a moment. "Back then, he was a different kind of person from us. He was poor, but he studied very well and spent all his time in the library. Most of us local students from Yanjing would go out and play after school, and his group of out-of-town students were mostly the same. But he was different; he just buried himself in his studies. Later, in his senior year, he took the Stanford entrance exam, and he was the only one in the entire department who got a full scholarship."

"No wonder." Wang Mengmeng nodded. "That composure wasn't feigned; it came from genuine confidence."

Zhang Lei glanced at her sideways: "You're quite observant."

"What's wrong, are you jealous?"

"Why are you jealous? I'm not a woman."

Wang Mengmeng smiled and didn't say anything more, but the couple's conversation never strayed from Fu Yan. Zhang Lei talked about their university days, how Fu Yan would reserve seats in the library, how he finished his graduation project in one go, and how he disappeared silently at the farewell dinner—as he talked, Zhang Lei himself became emotional, realizing that in the past seven or eight years, the one who had changed the most in the class was actually the one who was the least noticeable back then.

……

The convoy exited the Fifth Ring Road, entered the Beijing-Kunming Expressway, and then turned onto a provincial highway heading towards Fangshan.

The mountain road was quite long, but well-maintained, with two lanes in each direction, a smooth surface, and relatively gentle curves. Ten cars lined up in a row, led by Guan Chao in the lead car, followed by Lao Zhou in the last, with the cars in the middle maintaining a safe distance. Occasionally, someone would crackle a joke over the walkie-talkie—

"Brother Guan, slow down, my wife is carsick!"

"If you're carsick, drive carefully. What's it to me?"

"If you're the one leading the way, does that mean I'm slow too?"

"If I'm slow, then the others will complain about being slow—so should I just sandwich myself in the middle like a meat patty?"

A burst of laughter came from the walkie-talkie.

Fu Yan drove the Land Rover at a moderate pace, steadily following the car in front. This car was truly comfortable on the highway; the steering wheel was heavy but had a good feel, and the chassis was as stable as if nailed to the road when cornering, the suspension filtering out the minor vibrations from the road surface perfectly. The only downside was the sound insulation; tire and wind noise still managed to get in—but who cares about noise when driving a Land Rover? It's all about the ruggedness.

More than an hour later, the convoy stopped at the first campsite.

This was a clearing halfway up the mountain, with a small stream beside it. The water was crystal clear, and shards of ice still clung to the rocks. Everyone got out of the car to stretch their legs, some smoked, some relieved themselves, and others chatted in small groups.

Fu Yan stretched next to the Land Rover, and Zhang Lei strolled over and offered him a cigarette.

"How's your car driving?"

"It's good, but it's too big for the city, and parking is a hassle."

"Then you're still buying it?"

"I didn't think too much when I bought it, I just liked the look of it." Fu Yan lit a cigarette, took a drag, and asked, "What about your CRV?"

"It's fuel-efficient, enough for family use." Zhang Lei patted the hood of his car. "Even if you asked me to drive a Land Rover, I couldn't afford it. It costs more than a dollar per kilometer. What can I do with my meager salary?"

"You work in the Information Division of the Public Security Bureau?"

"Yeah, I've been doing this for three years." Zhang Lei flicked his cigarette ash. "It's been lukewarm, stable, but not very interesting. Every day I'm in front of a computer dealing with data. To put it bluntly, it's just an office job for a cyber police officer."

"That's good too, a secure job."

"A secure job is a secure job, but the rice in the bowl isn't very tasty," Zhang Lei laughed. "And you? What are you going back to China for?"

"I opened a bar."

"A bar?" Zhang Lei paused for a moment, "In Houhai?"

"Yes, it's called Gui Chu. Go visit sometime."

"Great name." Zhang Lei nodded. "I'll bring my wife to support it later."

After a twenty-minute break, Guan Chao called everyone to get in the car and continue their journey. The road ahead was no longer paved—the last five or six kilometers were a gravel road, full of potholes, with tree branches on both sides almost reaching into the middle of the road, slapping against the car windows.

However, this stretch of road was nothing to these people. Guan Chao's Wrangler led the way, followed by others, swaying and rocking like they were on a boat. The CRV had a low chassis, so Zhang Lei drove carefully, keeping the speed at its slowest setting, but there were no problems.

Around noon, the convoy finally arrived at its destination—a farmhouse halfway up a mountain.

The courtyard wasn't large, with three rows of single-story houses, red lanterns hanging at the entrance, and several large round tables set up inside. Guan Chao had arranged with the owner in advance, and the dishes were almost ready. As soon as he entered, he could smell the aroma—stewed free-range chicken, flatbread, cornbread, and scallions with dipping sauce, typical mountain farm dishes.

Everyone got out of the car, washed their hands, and sat down. After running around all morning, everyone was hungry. Guan Chao shouted "Let's eat!" and ten mouths started moving at the same time. Regardless of their image, men and women alike started eating with gusto.

Fu Yan and Zhang Lei and their spouses, and Guan Chao and his wife, sat at the same table. Guan Chao's wife, Zhao Xue, looked much quieter than Guan Chao. She wore round-framed glasses, spoke softly, and ate gracefully, completely different from the others at the table who were wolfing down their food.