Unlike the female salesclerk's excitement, Wang An couldn't help but twitch his lips when he saw her dragging her younger brother over.
It was obvious that the salesclerk wanted Wang An to help persuade her brother to give up on the Xingfu 250 motorcycle and buy the Jialing 70 instead.
Wang An originally wanted to turn around and leave. After all, once they picked up the bikes, they still had to load them into the bed of the Jinbei double-row truck and secure them; getting everything sorted would take a fair amount of effort.
However, in this situation, it would be somewhat inappropriate to leave without even saying hello. Wang An waved his hand with a smile and said
"You're researching bikes too? Hehehe... that's great. Well, keep at it; we have to go pick up our bikes first."
Having said that, Wang An walked toward the warehouse manager without looking back.
They were strangers; who had the leisure to care about their family squabbles?
Wang An's approach of greeting them and immediately leaving clearly indicated that he had no intention of engaging in further conversation with the salesclerk and her brother.
Yet, the salesclerk, still clutching her brother's arm, trotted after him.
Her brother complained discontentedly
"Second Sister, what are you doing? They're going to pick up their bikes; what's the point of us following them?"
The salesclerk replied in a scolding tone
"Since we're supporting your wish to buy a motorcycle and bringing out all the money our family has saved over the years, shouldn't we buy one that's sturdy and durable?"
"Big Brother-in-law's motorcycle is a Xingfu 250. You know how that bike is—it breaks down every few days and just dies on the road. He spends more time repairing it than riding it. Why on earth do you insist on buying a thing like that?"
Her brother replied stubbornly
"His bike is years old; how can you compare it to a new one? Besides, when you put a Jialing next to a Xingfu, the whole bike looks small and petty. It's not imposing at all. Look at the fuel tank—it's so tiny, not even half the size of the Xingfu 250's tank. Anyway, I don't want this bike."
It had to be said that the brother wasn't wrong. Products made by the "little devils" did indeed look a bit diminutive, lacking that sense of grandeur and power.
Not only did the Jialing 70 look a bit petty, but the Honda 125, which cost over 7,000 yuan, gave the same impression.
However, one had to admit that the Japanese technology was truly impressive. Primarily, given the Jialing 70's fuel consumption, there was absolutely no need for a large fuel tank.
At this time, although the Jialing 70's tank only had a capacity of 6 liters, it could travel nearly 600 kilometers.
Meanwhile, although the Xingfu 250's tank had a capacity of 14 liters, a full tank could only cover about 400 kilometers.
The gap was simply too large.
Fortunately, thanks to Wang An's earlier explanation, the salesclerk now felt confident and immediately retorted
"What's the use of a big tank? The Xingfu 250 takes over five jin of gas per hundred kilometers, while the Jialing only takes one and a half jin. Do you know how much money that is? Why are you so clueless?"
Hearing the salesclerk's words, their parents could no longer remain calm. The phrase "can afford the bike but can't afford the gas" was applicable in any era.
Although gas was very cheap at the time—about 4 mao per jin—wages were also low. How many "4 maos" did one earn in a day?
Their father, a middle-aged man wearing a Zhongshan suit, stepped forward and asked the salesclerk with a look of disbelief
"Second Daughter, you're saying this Jialing motorcycle uses less than 2 jin of gas per hundred kilometers? Is that true?"
The salesclerk was momentarily stunned. How was she supposed to know exactly how much gas it used? She had only heard it from Wang An.
The key was that since it had been launched, not a single one had been sold! There wasn't a single one of these bikes on the streets of Bingcheng.
Wait, that wasn't quite right, because just now, five of them had been sold at once.
Thus, the salesclerk could only grit her teeth and say
"Yes, my colleagues all say this bike is incredibly fuel-efficient."
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she turned and pointed in the direction of Wang An and his group
"Dad, Mom, look, they bought five of them at once. If the bike were bad, would they buy so many? I'm telling you, I'm the one who wrote their payment slips. I even asked them why they didn't buy the Xingfu 250, and they said the Xingfu 250 uses 1960s technology and is long outdated."
As she spoke, the family of four walked toward Wang An's group of five.
By this time, Wang An's group had handed the delivery slips to the warehouse manager, and the five of them were picking and inspecting the bikes.
The Jialing 70 came in three colors: red, army green, and black.
Wang Yi chose a pure black one without hesitation, Mu Xueli chose an army green one, and Wang Li chose one red and one army green.
When it came time to choose the color of the final motorcycle, Wang An asked Huang Zhong with a smile
"Xiao Zhong, which color do you think looks best?"
Huang Zhong had been looking at the motorcycles being claimed by Mu Xueli, Wang Li, and the others with a face full of loneliness and envy. Suddenly hearing Wang An ask for his opinion, he looked very happy and instinctively pointed to the red motorcycle
"I still think red looks best. Riding a red motorcycle and living a prosperous, 'red-hot' life... how great would that be, hehehehe..."
Wang An patted Huang Zhong on the shoulder and said with a smile
"Then we'll go with red. Hehehe... go on. I'll lend this bike to you for two years first. Whether it becomes yours permanently depends on your performance, hahahaha!"
Huang Zhong was stunned at first, and then his face filled with a complex mix of emotions: excitement, thrill, gratitude, happiness, and many others.
Then, Huang Zhong stammered
"Big... Big Brother, I... I..."
Wang An patted Huang Zhong's shoulder again, ruthlessly interrupting him
"Alright, alright, don't tell me those useless things, I'm too lazy to hear them. Go check if the bike has any dents or scratches first. Once we've tested them, we'll push them outside and load them into the truck bed to go home."
Huang Zhong didn't say anything else and agreed with red-rimmed eyes
"Yes, alright Big Brother."
With that, Huang Zhong trotted over to the red motorcycle he had pointed to and, imitating Wang Li and Mu Xueli, began to inspect the body of the bike meticulously.
There was no other way; the warehouse manager had made it very clear: once the motorcycle passed through the gates of the state-owned store, there would be no returns or exchanges. Whether it was good or bad, the buyer had to bear it.
After the five bikes were selected and it was confirmed there were no scratches or dents, the warehouse manager took an oil can and poured pure gasoline into the tanks one by one. He then kick-started them in sequence, letting Wang An's group listen to the sound each motorcycle made.
Indeed, the Jialing 70 ran on pure gasoline—the 70-octane leaded gasoline of the time—unlike the Xingfu 250 or Wang An's sidecar, which ran on mixed fuel.
To be honest, buying a motorcycle at this time was quite unfair. You were only allowed to listen to the engine to see if it started normally; you weren't allowed to test-ride them at all.
Unfortunately, that was how a seller's market worked: buy it or don't; if you don't, too bad. No one was begging you to buy.
After verifying that all the motorcycles started normally, Mu Xueli, Wang Li, and Wang Yi pushed their bikes toward the shop exit. Huang Zhong also gripped the handlebars and pushed his bike with extreme caution, fearing that if he pushed it improperly, the bike would fall over.
Seeing this, Wang An laughed without hesitation
"That thing is just a hunk of iron; it's not that delicate. It won't be a damn problem if it falls a couple of times."
Huang Zhong only looked up and smiled at Wang An, then continued to push the motorcycle nervously.
Wang An looked at Huang Zhong again, shook his head slightly, and pushed Wang Li's other motorcycle toward the exit.
Seeing this, the salesclerk's family of four followed behind Wang An and walked outside together.