160: Chapter 160 Motorcycle enthusiasts! Gather together!
"Brother, you aren't going to need another motorcycle, are you?"
The zip ties in the shop assistant's hands dropped to the floor.
Li Li shifted the wicker basket on his shoulders.
"The last one is still up on the mountain; it's probably burned to a crisp by now. I need a second one."
The assistant opened his mouth, then closed it again.
He glanced at the promotional sign that had just been hung back up at the entrance, looked at the mud and ash on Li Li, and finally lowered his head to pick up the zip ties.
"The boss said the first one was on the house, but he didn't say anything about a second one."
"I'll pay later."
"But my performance bonus..."
Li Li had already entered the shop.
The assistant stood there, finally squeezing out a sentence after a long pause.
"I guess my performance bonus can count as helping on the mountain today."
— — Seventy kilometers away, in the Northern District of Hong Kong.
Someone standing by the roadside raised their phone and snapped a photo.
The northern skyline was smothered by thick, grayish-yellow smoke. Sunlight couldn't pierce through, and the entire sky had darkened.
Three minutes after the post went up, the comment section exploded.
"Is the Northern District on fire?"
"It's not the Northern District, it's Shenzhen across the way!"
"I can see the smoke even from Sheung Shui."
"Wutong Mountain Scenic Area is on fire; mainland news just pushed a notification."
"Isn't that smoke a bit too thick?"
The topic quickly surged to the top of trending searches on Hong Kong social media platforms.
People were posting pictures and videos, and some were standing in Lok Ma Chau filming short clips. In the footage, half the northern sky was filled with smoke.
The comment section quickly turned sour.
"It's been burning for nearly an hour, and it's still not out?"
"Is the mainland fire department even capable?"
"A wildfire like this would have been handled by planes in California by now."
"The US has DC-10 air tankers that can drop 30,000 liters of fire retardant at once. What about you guys?"
"You don't actually rely on people carrying water hoses, do you?"
Screenshots were moved to foreign websites.
A British tabloid followed up with a post.
"Wildfire breaks out at Wutong Mountain Scenic Area in Shenzhen, China; fire departments fail to control the blaze for hours, sparking public skepticism."
The accompanying photo was a frame showing the thickest smoke.
Comments piled up quickly underneath.
"How can you call yourself a superpower without firefighting planes?"
"They aren't even sending helicopters?"
"'Concentrating resources to achieve great things,' but it ends up relying on shoulders?"
Back home, things weren't quiet either.
The trending search "Shenzhen Wutong Mountain Wildfire" was pinned at the top.
Some were praying, some were reposting pleas for help, and others were cursing the arson suspect.
Some people also started writing long, opinionated essays.
One article had a very jarring title.
"Look at California using planes to fight fires, then look at us still relying on people to carry them—what exactly is China's fire service missing?"
The article repeatedly mentioned California, planes, and modernization.
The argument in the comment section wouldn't stop.
"You're not going to mention how bad the burning was in California last year?"
"At least they have tools. Our Firefighters are still carrying water hoses step by step."
"If you're so capable, go do it yourself. Don't sit at home 'commanding' the wildfire."
"You don't even know how heavy a water hose is, yet you start telling the fire department what to do?"
The verbal war raged on, wave after wave.
Li Li didn't know how much of a commotion was happening online.
When he went up the mountain for the second time, his wicker basket was loaded with two rolls of water hoses, a case of mineral water, and a first-aid kit hanging on the side.
Two more rolls of water hoses were strapped to the back seat of the motorcycle.
The total weight of the bike, the rider, and the cargo exceeded two hundred kilograms.
He pushed upward, stone step by stone step.
The rear wheel slipped three times.
The first time, he lowered his body and eased off the throttle.
The second time, the rear of the bike swung to the edge of the stone steps, sending loose sand tumbling down.
The third time, the basket slammed into his back, and the water crate inside wobbled. He braced the bike with his knees and yanked the handlebars back onto the path.
He went up for the second trip, unloaded, and came back down.
Fifteen minutes.
For the third trip, he swapped in a larger basket.
He stuffed in eight more bottles of water.
His shoulders began to ache.
The palms of his gloves were wearing thin and fraying.
On the fourth trip, he handed the supplies over to the hose team at the 1.8-kilometer mark.
A Firefighter took the water crate and paused.
"Brother, your face is pale."
"I'm not getting any sun."
"Your hands are shaking."
Li Li pulled his hands back.
"It's the vibration from the motorcycle, don't worry."
The Firefighter didn't press further and shouldered the water hoses, running upward.
Coming down from the fourth trip, Li Li's foot slipped slightly as he dismounted, and he had to brace his knee against the bike to steady himself.
Someone was filming at the entrance of the mountain path.
It wasn't the Production Team.
Tourists and nearby residents held up their phones, capturing a silver motorcycle charging out of the mountain path.
The bike was covered in dust.
The wicker basket was crooked on the back.
The rider's combat uniform was stained with mud, and his helmet visor was fogged with moisture.
He jumped off the bike, unloaded the basket for someone nearby, took a few sips of water, and hopped back on to charge up the mountain again.
The video had no background music and no filters.
Forty minutes after it was posted, the view count broke thirty million.
The comments were dense and overlapping.
[Who is this?]
[Is he a Firefighter? That's insane.]
[Not a Firefighter, he's a guest on a variety show.]
[A variety show guest riding a motorcycle to transport water hoses?]
[He's already on his fourth trip; I've been watching since the first.]
[Which guest?]
[Li Li.]
As soon as those two words appeared, the comment stream split into several factions.
[Huh? That Li Li with a hundred million followers?]
[His face is covered in dust, I almost didn't recognize him.]
[Must be fake; how would a variety show guest end up on the front lines?]
[Basic routine, anyone who saw that Middle East segment knows.]
[He went from a Dating Reality Show to a war zone, and now to a fire scene. His resume is tougher than my life.]
The video was moved to foreign websites.
The title was blunt.
"Chinese civilian rides motorcycle up stone steps to transport firefighting supplies."
The comment section was first filled with a row of question marks.
"Stone steps? Motorcycle?"
"Is this real, or is it a movie?"
Soon, someone recognized him.
"Wait, this is Li Li. The Chinese man who livestreamed in the Arab war zone."
"Is he doing firefighting stuff now too?"
"Can someone explain why a reality show contestant keeps appearing at disaster scenes?"
Someone started explaining.
"He participated in a dating show, landed and got caught in a war, became the person with the most followers on TikTok in China after returning, and now he's riding a motorcycle to transport water hoses at a wildfire scene."
"This isn't a personal history; it's a disaster checklist."
Someone kept digging deeper.
When they dug up the words "Israel," the account page suddenly wouldn't load.
After refreshing the post, only one line remained.
Content does not exist.
Someone took a screenshot and posted it.
"I was just looking into Li Li's time in the Middle East, and the account is gone."
An immediate reply followed.
"Don't look into it."
"Some things can be seen, some things cannot."
This discussion thread vanished three minutes later too.
— — When Li Li came down for his fifth trip, his right hand was already barely responsive.
He took off his glove; the heel of his palm was a large patch of red.
It wasn't skin abrasion; it was from holding the throttle and brake for so long, and the constant vibration from the stone steps.
He parked the bike by the plaza, bracing his body with his legs, and didn't get off immediately.
Jiang Rumu walked over with water.
Li Li took the bottle and chugged half of it.
"Take a break."
Jiang Rumu stood beside the bike, the dust on her still not brushed off.
"It's almost five o'clock."
Li Li looked up at the sky.
The sun was tilting west.
"It'll be dark in two hours. There are no lights on the mountain path, and it'll be hard for the motorcycle to go up after dark."
He tried to stuff the water bottle into the side pocket of the basket.
His fingers trembled twice, and he couldn't get it in.
The bottle dropped to the ground and rolled half a circle.
Jiang Rumu bent down, picked it up, and put it back in.
"Your hand is already like this."
"My butt is like this too. Do you want to check?"
"..."
Jiang Rumu raised her foot and kicked the motorcycle footrest.
It was a soft sound.
Li Li held onto the handlebars and stood up.
His legs were a bit weak.
But he could still stand.
He looked toward the entrance of the mountain path.
The smoke was still pressing down.
The shouts of the Firefighters drifted down from the mountain, chopped up by the sound of the water pumps.
From the afternoon until now, he was the only motorcycle on the transport line.
The video had been posted for over an hour.
Hundreds of thousands of reposts.
Tens of thousands of comments.
But at the North Gate plaza, he was still the only one running.
The command post's previous assessment was correct.
Shenzhen has banned motorcycles for many years; there aren't many riders with formal off-road experience.
Shen Jue carried the newly packed water hoses and basket to the bike.
"Brother Li, it's packed. One less case of water this time, take it easy."
Li Li patted the basket.
"Put it back in."
Shen Jue froze for a second.
"But your hand..."
"The water is life-saving for the people on the mountain. Put it back in."
Shen Jue gritted his teeth and shoved the water crate back into the basket.
Jiang Rumu didn't stop him.
She tightened the straps again and moved the medicine kit to the side of the basket to avoid pressing against Li Li's back.
Li Li got back on the motorcycle.
He turned the key to ON.
The engine roared to life.
A sharp pain shot through the heel of his palm.
He was just about to twist the throttle.
A roar came from the distance.
Not just one.
It was many.
At the end of the road outside the plaza, a dozen headlights lit up at once.
Dirt bikes.
ADVs.
Trials bikes.
And a few modified rugged domestic bikes.
The low-frequency rumble of the engines drowned out the crowd's chatter, making even the caution tape tremble.
The riders were wearing full-face helmets, half-helmets, and rally helmets.
Some bikes had passengers on the back.
The passengers on the back carried large bags, held helmets, and clutched gloves in their hands.
Riders without motorcycles had been brought along.
The police immediately rushed to the intersection.
"Stop! Check driver's licenses first! Protective gear! Register vehicle plates!"
The first bike stopped.
The rider took off his helmet, his face covered in sweat.
"Brother Li! We're here to help!"
A burly man with a buzz cut got off a Kawasaki KLX behind him and patted the back seat.
"Brother Li, I came from Huicheng! Seventy kilometers, didn't dare let go of the throttle. We brought seven or eight riders without bikes, fifteen people in total!"
Li Li hadn't even had a chance to speak.
A dirt bike stopped in front of the Zhang Xue Motorcycle shop.
The engine wasn't cut.
A short, stout figure hopped off the bike and removed his helmet.
Round face, short hair, hands covered in engine oil.
Li Li recognized him.
Zhang Xue.
Founder and customer service rep of Zhang Xue Motorcycle.
He had come personally on a bike.
Zhang Xue didn't look at Li Li first.
He turned to face the group of riders, his voice loud enough to drown out the sound of the water pumps.
"Today! Riders with a license and off-road skills, but no bike!"
He raised his hand and slapped the shop sign behind him.
"All bikes are provided for free by Zhang Xue!"
The assistant stood at the entrance, stunned.
Zhang Xue continued shouting.
"If you crash, it's on me! If you break it, it's on me! Anyone who dares to disobey the Firefighter's commands, that's on me too, and I'll kick them out myself!"
The riders didn't applaud.
They didn't heckle either.
They all turned toward Li Li.
Cheng Songyan stood by the command vehicle, clutching his walkie-talkie.
He paused for two seconds and nodded at Li Li.
Li Li put his gloves back on.
The heel of his palm was still hurting.
His legs were numb.
He turned and looked at the dozen or so riders in the twilight.
Helmets tucked under their arms.
Protective gear still on.
Sweat dripping down their chins.
Everyone was waiting for one sentence.
Li Li raised his hand and pointed to the smoking mountain behind him.
"Riders, assemble!"
His voice drowned out the engines.
"Extinguish the fire!"