Cycling: Racing into the Headwind

"Old Huang, you really blew me away today. But it wasn’t cool of you, man. You secretly mastered these insane bike assembly skills—even a petty guy like Master Liu had to admit you’re the real deal—and you’ve been holding out on me this whole time."

On the drive home after closing the bike shop for the night, Dewey complained to Huang Chong, who was riding shotgun.

Huang Chong was currently living at Dewey’s place, room and board included. Hearing this, he couldn’t really offer much of an explanation.

’I mean, how could I tell him I was reborn and even awakened a system?’

He thought for a moment before coming up with an excuse:

"I didn’t say anything before because I was afraid you’d think I was crazy if I told you I wanted to be a Professional Cyclist. So, I figured I’d get the information I needed and master the skills first. It’s much more convincing now than if I had just blurted it out with nothing to show for it, right?"

"Nope. To be honest, I’d think you were crazy no matter when you told me you wanted to be a Professional Cyclist."

Dewey retorted with a straight face, but his expression quickly broke into a smile as he added reflectively,

"But as your brother, I’ve gotta say, you’ve got way more guts than me. I’d never dare to dream of becoming a Professional Cyclist.

So, no matter what, the fact that you’re daring to take this first step means I’ll have your back.

Who knows, maybe one day you’ll actually win a Professional Level championship, right?"

Hearing the heavy skepticism in his friend’s voice, Huang Chong couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching.

He couldn’t speak for other cyclists, but he knew road cycling was a team sport. Some riders spend their entire careers as domestiques, silently sacrificing for their team leaders, never getting a chance to compete for a championship themselves.

But as someone with a cheat system, if he went his entire professional career without a single championship win, he might as well just go back to his hometown and give up right now.

After a moment’s thought, he decided to make a bold declaration, replying with firm conviction:

"Old Du, you just wait. I’m definitely going to win. And I’m not just talking about any championships—I’m going for the most prestigious ones."

Dewey knew the championships he meant were the top-tier races that had been held for over a century and held a deep historical status, like the three Grand Tours (the Tour de France, Giro d’Italia, and Vuelta a España) and the five Monuments—the major one-day classics (Milan-San Remo, Liège-Bastogne-Liège, the Tour of Flanders, Paris-Roubaix, and the Tour of Lombardy).

After all, this was the ultimate achievement that even his idol, Pogačar—the undisputed number one in road cycling today—was aiming to win.

But to win all eight of these major races was a feat of hellish difficulty. Even for an all-rounded "Mars Person" like Pogačar, it was an absolute impossibility in the near future.

As for Huang Chong, forget collecting them all—if he managed to win just one of those eight championships, it would send massive shockwaves through the cycling communities in China and even across the entire world.

After all, every single one of those eight titles was a coveted honor, fiercely sought after by the world’s top Professional Cyclists who dreamed of winning them.

"Alright, then. Here’s to a smooth career as a cyclist. When you actually win those championships you’re dreaming of, don’t forget your bro. You know what they say: ’Don’t forget the friends you had when you were poor.’ You can’t forget your roots!"

Dewey was a master of shooting the shit, but he decided not to rain on Huang Chong’s parade any further. Changing the subject, he said,

"But from what I gathered back at the shop, you don’t plan on being a full-time mechanic?

Honestly, with your incredible bike assembly and repair skills, keeping you as an assistant is a total waste of talent. I can’t keep paying you an assistant mechanic’s salary, right?

So, you tell me. Do you want me to pay you the same salary as Liu Chaoyang—eighteen thousand a month—or do you want a fixed commission for every bike you build?"

Huang Chong didn’t have to think twice. He answered immediately,

"I’ll take the commission. Since I plan on becoming a Professional Cyclist, I can’t be a full-time mechanic.

I can’t be like Liu Chaoyang, working in the shop for more than ten hours a day. It wouldn’t be fair to you to pay me a fixed monthly salary.

It’s more reasonable to just pay me for the work I actually do."

Dewey had actually wanted to give Huang Chong a fixed monthly salary as a way to support his friend’s dream. After all, business was booming. Cycling had become incredibly popular in China over the past two years, and he catered to a high-end clientele, mostly made up of wealthy young heirs like Zhou Ming.

Besides bike assembly and maintenance, he had relatives living abroad in Europe and America who gave him special access to channels for obtaining frames and components from top-tier brands. This allowed him to offer a one-stop service for wealthy clients in China to build their dream custom bikes from the ground up.

Due to the pandemic, overseas production had been severely impacted over the past two years. The higher-end the road bike product, the more demand outstripped supply in China. The profit margins were enormous. Though his was just a small boutique shop, he was easily clearing one to two million in pure profit annually.

Of course, a high-end circle like this was all about connections and social networking. An ordinary person could have the best assembly equipment and the widest range of products and still not make it. Dewey was only able to cash in on this boom because of his parents’ prominent business status in Hangcheng.

"Alright. Since you’ve already thought it through, we’ll do it your way."

In the end, Dewey didn’t press the issue. As long as Huang Chong didn’t slack off completely, paying him by commission meant that while he might not reach eighteen thousand a month, breaking ten thousand would still be a breeze.

After all, the labor fee for assembling a top-of-the-line road bike in his shop was already averaging in the four-figure range, making the profit margin quite substantial.

"Oh, right. You haven’t eaten dinner, have you? Want to head over to Gushui Street, find a food stall, and grab a couple of beers before we go home?"

Dewey suggested, as he often did when driving near Hangcheng’s most famous food street.

However, Huang Chong, sitting in the passenger seat, shook his head decisively.

"I told you I’m losing weight, so no. Beer, burgers, and grilled skewers are off the menu for me for the time being. Just head to a supermarket. I need to buy ingredients for a diet meal. A vegetable salad for dinner is all I need."

"Holy crap, Old Huang, you’re actually serious about this!"

Dewey was completely stunned and couldn’t help but retort,

"I don’t remember you being this disciplined back in school. Who knew getting into cycling would change you so completely?

Seriously, how am I—a guy who lives for worldly pleasures—supposed to hang out with you now?"

Though the words were spoken in jest, the listener took them to heart.

Dewey’s offhand comment had actually hit the nail on the head.

Cycling had truly become the greatest, most consuming passion in his life.

Even in his past life, he had pushed himself to the absolute limit—training, dieting, controlling his weight—and had only managed to reach an average speed of 35 km/h before hitting a plateau. But he knew he would stick with cycling for the rest of his life, until the day he could no longer pedal.

And now, reborn with a system, he had a real chance to chase his ultimate dream—a Tour de France victory. Giving up was not an option.

’So, if I can’t even handle something as simple as losing weight, what kind of passion is that?’

But just as he got home after buying a mountain of diet-friendly ingredients—chicken breast, cod fillets, eggs, raw corn, potatoes, sweet potatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, apples, and black coffee—and prepared his very first diet meal, a new notification intelligently popped up from the system:

[Host detected consuming a low-calorie, fat-reducing meal. Please set your desired target weight.]

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