Chapter 293 - 167: First Battle with Pogačar, First Liège Race, First Time in the Main Lineup

After all, this was the first time Huang Chong was competing in one of the five Monuments as his team’s main contender, and his first time going head-to-head with road cycling’s top rider, Pogačar, and the king of the Classics, van der Poel.

So, before the race even started, the comment sections on the streaming platforms were already completely flooded by cycling fans.

The main topic of discussion, undoubtedly, was whether he had a chance of winning the race.

But without a doubt, unlike previous races where most fans thought he could win, today the fans in China were being quite rational. The general consensus was that securing a third-place podium finish would be a victory in itself.

As for first and second place, even the fans from China couldn’t kid themselves. Over ninety percent believed those spots would definitely be taken by Pogačar and van der Poel.

Dewey, over in Hangcheng, was definitely watching the live broadcast today.

He wasn’t just watching, either. He had gone behind his very pregnant wife Wu Fang’s back and, along with his two partners, Zhou Ming and Li Zifan, booked out a high-end club in advance. Surrounded by lavish entertainment and flowing drinks, the group had gathered specifically to watch Huang Chong’s race.

You had to admit, these rich young masters really knew how to go all out.

"Old Zhou, bet you never thought an offhand comment my bro made in my shop back then would actually come true today, huh?

You better keep your eyes peeled today and watch my bro’s incredible performance in this race.

This is Liège-Bastogne-Liège, one of the five true Monuments, and his opponents are Pogačar and van der Poel!

So let me ask you, are you feeling a little ashamed now for saying he was all talk back then?"

Hearing Dewey deliberately tease him before the race, Zhou Ming’s expression darkened with embarrassment.

But the fact was, even though Dewey had a big mouth and was asking for a punch every time he opened it, his crude words weren’t wrong.

He really hadn’t expected—hadn’t even dared to imagine—that Huang Chong’s desire to compete against the top riders in the three Grand Tours and five Monuments would actually become a reality in less than two years.

He pondered for a moment, then picked up a glass of whiskey from the coffee table and took a sip. For once, he didn’t bite back at Dewey, just grumbled sullenly:

"I really didn’t expect Huang Chong to make it this far."

Then, before Dewey could open his mouth, he continued,

"But it wasn’t just me. Even you, his self-proclaimed best friend—when he first said all that, did you really believe him?"

Dewey was struck speechless.

’Of course he hadn’t believed it at first, either.’

’Forget the Grand Tours and the Monuments; even when Huang Chong had said he just wanted to become a Professional Cyclist in China, Dewey, despite being supportive on the surface, had thought it was a complete pipe dream deep down.’

But he’d never voiced these private thoughts to anyone, not even his wife, Wu Fang. Dewey certainly wasn’t about to admit it now, so he stubbornly retorted:

"Of course I believed him from the start! He’s my best bro, why wouldn’t I?

Besides, when he told me he wanted to be a Professional Cyclist, I gave him a pair of carbon wheels that very night to show my support.

If you don’t believe me, his first-ever road bike, a ninth-generation Giant TCR ADV, is hanging on the wall in my shop right now. You can go see for yourself!"

Zhou Ming had grown up with Dewey and knew his personality well, so he couldn’t be bothered to argue the point. He just let a mocking sneer cross his face and replied coolly,

"Wow, so generous of you, Old Du. Your shop makes millions a year, and you give your best friend a pair of second-hand, Chinese-made carbon wheels!"

Hearing such a sarcastic remark, Dewey—whose face was already round and chubby from a complete lack of dieting—instantly flushed red.

He scrambled to argue,

"Now that’s just unfair, Brother Zhou! Am I, Dewey, really the cheapskate you’re making me out to be?

I fucking wanted to give Huang Chong a Lightning SL7, okay? But the kid’s too damn principled! He insisted he wouldn’t accept such an expensive gift until he became a Professional Cyclist. I had no choice but to settle for the next best thing and give him a pair of Chinese-made carbon wheels.

Besides, when he made the provincial team and officially became a Professional Cyclist, didn’t I get him a Lightning TT Car?

And isn’t that car one of Lightning’s top-of-the-line models?

Isn’t it way more expensive than the Lightning SL7 you lost to him?"

Zhou Ming had a pretty sly streak, so he was no slouch when he got serious about verbal sparring. He feigned agreement with a nod, but his voice dripped with sarcasm as he spoke:

"Oh, yes, yes. Of course. Who in all of Hangcheng doesn’t know what a generous and... meticulous man you are, Old Du?

To be able to list off every little ’trinket’ you’ve given your best friend like you’re counting family jewels... you’ve really outdone yourself!"

Hearing that passive-aggressive tone, Dewey, the hothead that he was, would have been angry enough to smash his glass on the spot if he’d been dealing with a regular friend.

But considering it was Zhou Ming, and with Li Zifan watching them bicker with an amused expression, he managed to rein in his explosive temper.

He stewed for a moment, swallowing the bitter frustration of being called "cheap" by a nouveau riche like Zhou Ming, and forced himself to argue back:

"Fine, I admit it. Your family owns a goddamn mine, Eldest Young Master Zhou. I can’t compete with that.

I’m just running a small business, after all. How can I learn to throw money around like you? Just casually giving your personal Riding Beauty a top-of-the-line Pinarello—