Cycling: Racing into the Headwind

As Zhou Ming finished speaking, his tone and expression grew agitated, his words clearly tinged with intense personal feelings.

This left Huang Chong completely baffled:

’What does this young master mean?’

’I just said I wanted to be a Professional Cyclist. All I did was daydream a little about my future cycling career. How did that get him so worked up?’

’Isn’t it perfectly normal to shoot the breeze with friends and get excited talking about things, even if you can’t actually do them?’

"What’s with this guy?"

After Zhou Ming stormed off, leaving a few harsh words in his wake, Huang Chong helped a very drunk Dewey back to the luxurious lake-view room Zhou Ming had arranged for him. Once there, Huang Chong couldn’t help but ask:

"Is he always so uptight?"

Hearing Huang Chong’s question, Dewey gave him a strange look, a sudden hint of pity coloring his expression as he replied:

"This might sound strange, but the truth is, Eldest Young Master Zhou isn’t mad at you for talking big. He doesn’t even know you, after all. He’s just mad at himself for not being free."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that kid’s passion for cycling is just as strong as yours. It’s just that with his parents’ domineering personalities, they’ll never let him become a Professional Cyclist."

After a brief pause, Dewey added:

"And it’s not just cycling. Anything unrelated to their family business—or to put it more bluntly, any line of work that doesn’t make money—his parents will never let him pursue professionally!"

Dewey and Zhou Ming had actually gone to the same schools growing up. Although Zhou Ming was a year ahead of him, all the kids in their social circle had known each other since they were little and were very familiar with one another’s family backgrounds.

So Dewey gave Huang Chong a brief rundown of Zhou Ming’s life story.

After hearing it all, Huang Chong couldn’t really empathize; after all, they came from different social classes.

He just sighed with a hint of lament and teased,

"So, you’re saying that while you rich kids never have to worry about food or clothing in the eyes of normal people and can buy whatever you want, you’re not actually happy? Kind of like Jia Baoyu?"

Hearing this, Dewey couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Huang Chong.

But he had to admit, Huang Chong’s description was surprisingly accurate.

Take himself, for instance. He was terrible at school, but his entire childhood was packed with cram schools and private tutors that filled all his free time, leaving him no opportunity to pursue any personal hobbies.

’Wasn’t that just like being Jia Baoyu, trapped by Mrs. Jia in the Rong Mansion, with no freedom to speak of?’

’Of course, to an ordinary person, this would sound incredibly pretentious.’

’Isn’t being well-fed and comfortable enough? Do you want the moon, too?’

After all, for people struggling just to get by, their lifelong ambition is simply to live in a bigger house.

It’s even better if they have a little extra cash to buy what they want, and some savings for unexpected medical bills when they get old. That’s it.

At least, Huang Chong’s parents were ordinary people just like that.

Things like pursuing personal hobbies or life goals? That was just pure nonsense to them.

"Sigh... After hearing you say all that, I almost feel bad about dropping Young Master Zhou in the race tomorrow.

I never thought he was so pitiable. He finally found a hobby he loves, but he can only use it to vent his frustrations.

The day his parents stop letting him ’play,’ all those expensive bikes will probably end up in a warehouse, collecting dust and rotting away.

So pitiful. Truly pitiful!"

"You’re being foolish!"

But Dewey refuted Huang Chong’s compassionate thought, his tone turning serious as he warned:

"Old Huang, I know you’re a kind person—that’s why you’re my good brother—but I have to give you a reminder.

Kindness has its time and place.

When facing the weak, you can be compassionate. That’s called having a conscience.

But when you’re facing someone from a higher class, you’d better put away that soft-hearted hesitation of yours.

Because the strong only respect those who are stronger than themselves.

You can give him some face during the race, like not making his loss too humiliating. That’s just being tactful.

But you can never, ever intentionally throw a race you know you can win.

Maybe you think I’m exaggerating, but the truth is, whether you lose on purpose or because you weren’t strong enough, sometimes losing just once in a competition means you might never get another chance to come back."

Huang Chong’s heart jolted at these words. For some reason, his mind flew to the 2020 Tour de France.

Before the start of the Stage 20 individual time trial, Roglič, wearing the Yellow Jersey, had a 57-second lead over the young Pogačar.

But by the end of that decisive stage, Pogačar had beaten him by 1 minute and 56 seconds. Roglič’s overall lead was overturned, leaving him 59 seconds behind. He lost what was his closest, and perhaps only, chance to win the title—a regret that would last a lifetime.

Looking back in hindsight, there was no indication that Roglič had been careless or had underestimated his opponent on Stage 20, but the result was just as Dewey had described.

By losing that one opportunity, he never got another shot at redemption.

Huang Chong and Dewey usually just joked and messed around; they rarely had heart-to-heart talks. Huang Chong knew it was the alcohol that was making Dewey open up like this.

But he was very grateful to Dewey.

Because they came from different social classes, their perspectives on the world were different, too.

He knew that his own viewpoint was often narrower and more one-sided than his friend’s. He was truly lucky to have someone like that to guide him as he grew.

"I understand what you mean, Old Du."

Huang Chong finally nodded, saying nothing more.

He tucked the drunken Dewey in, adjusted the air conditioner, and placed a glass of water on the nightstand before returning to his own room to get some rest.

...

「The next morning, 6:25 a.m.」

On the Lake Loop road not far from the hotel, more than twenty top-tier road bikes and their riders were poised for the start.

A single glance revealed that the bikes this group rode were, without exception, all World Tour-level race machines.

Canyon, Lightning, Trek, Colnago, Look, and even Bianchi—

Only one bike, a ninth-generation TCR ADV 3, was mixed in with the crowd, looking shabby and completely out of place. It belonged to Huang Chong.

"The race is about to start, and the rules are simple. I’ve set up a feed zone at the 25-kilometer mark.

If any of you can’t make it halfway, you can grab a drink at the feed zone. We’ve got water, other beverages, steamed buns... a bit of everything.

The finish line is at the 50-kilometer mark. First one to cross it is the champion."

Before the start, the event’s host, Zhou Ming, scanned the lineup of racers and reiterated the rules.

Aside from himself and his pacers, most of the invited young masters had gotten out of bed to race, which showed they were giving him plenty of face.

However, many of the young masters were bleary-eyed and yawning. They were clearly just there to fill out the numbers and couldn’t care less about the prize money.

Only Dewey and Huang Chong looked sharp and ready, clearly there to compete for the win.

For Dewey, the prize money was irrelevant, of course, but the bragging rights from winning were everything.

"Old Du, I remember at last year’s Tour of Qiandao Lake, you brought me along to race, and you beat me.

We’re back at the same place today. Even though it’s only half the distance, I want to see who comes out on top this time!

And that includes your brother, of course!"

Now that he was sober, Dewey was back to his usual boisterous self.

With his personality, how could he not fire back a verbal volley at such a provocation? He shot back on the spot:

"Don’t get too arrogant, Zhou!

I’m here today to tell you one thing: I beat you last year, and I’ll do it again this year.

Now let’s get this race started. My legs are itching for a fight!"

Zhou Ming sneered and turned to Little Mili, who was on the side of the road checking the time on her phone. As soon as it hit 6:30, she called out to the group of cyclists in a sweet, delicate voice:

"The race is on, boys!"

Instantly, the entire peloton shot forward.

Huang Chong stayed within the pack, in no rush to attack. A new system notification had just appeared before his eyes:

[Host detected participating in an amateur group ride. Mission: Achieve your first career victory. Reward: 15 Basic Optimization Value, 1x Daily Training Pack.]

...