After the divorce, he went on a motorcycle trip, and his ex-wife and daughter were filled with regre

Old Yu?

Jiang Ye silently repeated the name in his mind, feeling that it was a bit strange.

When people introduce themselves, they usually say "the surplus of every year" (as in "having surplus every year"), and very few people would say that they are "the surplus of excess" (as in "excess").

"Brother Yu, your fishing skills are quite impressive," Jiang Ye said, trying to make conversation.

Old Yu didn't respond, but instead turned his attention back to the BMW GS.

He walked up to the motorcycle, stretched out his calloused hand, and gently stroked the Waterbird's huge fuel tank and cold metal guardrail, a complex light flickering in his eyes.

There is nostalgia, fervor, and a deep sense of melancholy.

"BMW R1250GS, top-of-the-line ADV version."

Old Yu suddenly spoke up, his tone confident, "Horizontally opposed twin cylinders, shaft drive—this is a true long-distance machine. Young man, you have good taste."

Jiang Ye was truly shocked this time.

A fisherman fishing in the wilderness was able to recognize the specific model of the car at a glance, and even clearly describe the engine type and transmission method!

"Brother Yu, you know about motorcycles too?" Jiang Ye asked in surprise.

Old Yu withdrew his hand and gave a self-deprecating laugh.

"I know a little."

He looked at Jiang Ye with a hint of warmth in his eyes, "When I was young, I also liked to ride this thing around. Back then, we didn't have what you have. I rode a beat-up Jialing 125, but I still traveled most of China."

When they met someone who shared their passion for motorcycles, the distance between them instantly shrank considerably.

Since we both like motorcycles, we naturally had a lot to talk about.

Jiang Ye took out two bottles of mineral water from his bag, handed one to Lao Yu, and the two of them simply sat down on the grass by the lake.

We talked about engine torque and shock absorber tuning; from the Bingchacha route in Tibet to the Duku Highway in Xinjiang.

Jiang Ye discovered that this man named Lao Yu not only knew about motorcycles, but also had extensive knowledge.

He spoke eloquently and logically, occasionally quoting classical texts, which impressed Jiang Ye greatly.

After talking for more than half an hour, Jiang Ye's doubts grew stronger.

Looking at Lao Yu's refined face, he finally couldn't help but ask the question that had been on his mind.

"Brother Yu, may I ask a question?"

Jiang Ye stared into Lao Yu's eyes. "You don't look like a local fisherman at all, nor do you look like an ordinary person. Why do you stay in this desolate place to fish?"

Upon hearing this question, the smile on Lao Yu's face gradually faded.

He turned his head and looked at the shimmering lake, his eyes becoming incredibly deep, as if he were lost in some distant memory.

There was a long silence.

Old Yu sighed softly and shook his head.

"He hesitated, it's a long story..."

Old Yu gave a wry smile and waved his hand. "These are all old, trivial matters. Let's not talk about them anymore. Forget it, forget it."

Seeing that the other party was unwilling to say more, Jiang Ye wisely refrained from pressing further.

Everyone has their own secrets and a past they want to escape.

Just like himself, didn't he ride his motorcycle here to escape the suffocating quagmire of Hanju?

Jiang Ye glanced at the sky; the sun was almost setting. He then asked:

"Brother Yu, where can I find accommodation and food around here?"

Jiang Ye stood up, dusted himself off, and asked, "I need to find a place to stay tonight."

Old Yu also stood up and pointed to the mountain valley across the lake.

"This place is remote; there are no proper restaurants or hotels for miles around."

Old Yu said, "Only after crossing that mountain, there is a guesthouse run by a local in the valley that can provide basic accommodation."

At this point, Lao Yu glanced at the several large fish jumping around in his cabin, then turned to Jiang Ye with a warm smile on his face.

"Young man, it's fate that we met."

Old Yu pointed to the fish in the cabin and extended an invitation, "If you don't mind, come to my house first, and we'll eat fish together!"

"Want some fish?"

Jiang Ye paused for a moment, looking at Lao Yu's sincere and enthusiastic face, then at the wild carp still jumping around in the cabin, and his stomach let out a soft protest at just the right time.

Although I just ate a bowl of instant noodles, that was only enough to fill my stomach. In this desolate wilderness, being able to eat a fresh wild game meal is definitely a rare treat.

Moreover, Jiang Ye was indeed quite curious about this old Yu, who spoke with extraordinary eloquence and exuded a mysterious aura.

"Sure! Then I'll have to trouble you, Brother Yu!" Jiang Ye readily agreed.

"Haha, don't be so polite! Come on, my house is in the valley not far ahead. Just follow me on your bike."

Old Yu laughed heartily, picked up the wooden oar, and gently tapped it on a rock on the shore. The small wooden boat then glided along the lake towards a mountain hollow not far away.

Jiang Ye put on his helmet, mounted his BMW Waterbird, shifted into first gear, and followed Lao Yu's wooden boat at a leisurely pace along the dirt road by the lake.

The afterglow of the setting sun cast long shadows of a person, a car, and a boat, creating a scene of indescribable tranquility and harmony.

After walking for about ten minutes, and rounding a waterway overgrown with reeds, Jiang Ye came into view of a hidden mountain hollow.

Nestled in the mountain valley is a small courtyard built of stones and logs.

The courtyard wasn't large, but it was kept clean and tidy. Green vines climbed all over the walls, and several rows of lush green vegetables grew in the yard. In one corner, there was a grape trellis with a stone table and a few stone benches underneath.

Without the hustle and bustle of the city, without the oppressive feeling of reinforced concrete, this place is simply a paradise.

Old Yu tied the boat to a wooden stake on the shore, carried the fish net ashore, and pushed open the wooden gate of the courtyard.

"Sit wherever you like. I live alone, so I don't need to be so particular." Old Yu invited Jiang Ye to sit on the stone bench under the grape trellis, then carried the fish into a makeshift kitchen next door.

Jiang Ye looked around the small courtyard and felt more and more that this Old Yu was not simple.

Although the courtyard was simple, it exuded a sense of refinement and sophistication.

The tea set on the stone table was a fine set of Yixing teapots, with a warm, smooth patina, clearly having been handled frequently. On the bamboo recliner next to it, a well-worn copy of "Renjian Cihua" (A Commentary on Poetry in the Human World) lay casually face down.

The bamboo stalks in the corner were trimmed in a neat and orderly manner, and the bamboo leaves rustled in the evening breeze.

This doesn't look like the dwelling of a rough, fisherman at all. It's clearly the residence of a hermit.

Before long, a rich, fresh aroma wafted from the makeshift kitchen.

"Here you go! Young man, lend a hand!"

Old Yu walked out of the kitchen carrying a huge, rough porcelain basin.