Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The intense argument drew the attention of many nearby, and standing beside a Blonde White Woman was a middle-aged man with Asian features, his expression twisted in a way that suggested he felt deeply insulted.
Yet, the language he spoke was remarkably fluent Chinese, directed at a vendor in front of him whose face showed signs of distress.
The Blonde White Woman seemed to be trying to calm him down.
Seeing the middle-aged man react so violently made Yang Xiaoyou feel somewhat uneasy. This was the very person Luo Guohui had fought his entire life to protect.
Perhaps it was due to years of repression, but now that the current president had officially abolished the nominal anti-Chinese legislation, this fellow before them, whose spirit seemed somewhat twisted from past grievances, appeared overly sensitive to certain terms.
Just a simple phrase—American of Chinese Descent—had provoked such an explosive reaction from him, revealing his inner fragility.
It seemed that the road ahead for Superman would be long; correcting such a distorted mindset could not be accomplished overnight.
While Yang Xiaoyou could understand a bit of sympathy for this fellow, it did not excuse his behavior. The vendor's reference to an American of Chinese Descent likely stemmed from a sense of kinship, yet instead of appreciating it, the man erupted into a tirade, which was quite excessive.
"I will report you! Yes! I will report you for insulting customers! I will report you for selling counterfeit medicine! I will report you for operating without a permit!" After venting for a while, the middle-aged man still seemed unsatisfied and continued with a menacing tone.
He had already figured out that the vendor didn't even have a storefront; he was merely setting up a stall. The man's clothing was quite simple. He probably wasn't even local. Although the management had turned a blind eye due to the recent Spring Festival, if someone were to report him, it would surely lead to consequences.
Previously, he had relied on knowledge passed down from his parents to engage in the import business of traditional Chinese medicine and was quite familiar with local regulations.
Meanwhile, Yang Xiaoyou felt considerable disdain for this man. He knew plenty of Americans of Chinese Descent, including Luo Guohui and Revy. Compared to these two, this fellow was nothing more than a rat droppings that tarnished others' impressions.
In contrast, Revy—who smoked, drank, swore, and had tattoos—was far more likable. Perhaps both she and Luo Guohui had faced unfair treatment at some point, but their subsequent developments were vastly different.
"Huang Yunqi really has bad luck running into such a sensitive fellow," sighed the Old Shopkeeper who had been conversing with Yang Xiaoyou.
He had seen many Americans of Chinese Descent come to engage in the medicine trade after that recent legislation was abolished. While it was true that some might feel uncomfortable with such terms, this extreme reaction was quite rare.
However, despite his complaints, the old man seemed unwilling to intervene; after all, the vendor's position was indeed against regulations. It was fortunate no one had reported him yet, but if someone did—especially if that person had previously imported large quantities—it could become problematic.
There was a real possibility that all his medicinal goods could be confiscated.
Just as Yang Xiaoyou could no longer bear to watch and prepared to find an opportunity to confront the fellow, he suddenly spotted a familiar figure pushing through the crowd toward them.
"How did this brat end up here? Although his grandmother lives in Shanghai, he usually doesn't seem interested in traditional Chinese medicine. Has the training in Siberia included this new thing? Or is it for Uncle Chen?" Yang Xiaoyou thought, surprised to see the handsome, sunny figure.
It was none other than Chen Hao, who had grown up alongside him, always stepping in front to shield him from trouble.
With the Lantern Festival just two days away, it was normal for him to be at his grandmother's house in Shanghai. Yet, in such a large city, it felt strange that they would run into each other here. When did he start coming to a herbal medicine market?
This fellow wore protective glasses and had a scholarly appearance, making it hard for anyone to associate him with being a prospective pilot.
"Uncle Huang, what's going on?" Chen Hao asked the middle-aged man selling medicine as he squeezed into the scene, as if they were familiar with each other.
Yang Xiaoyou, who was about to step forward to greet them, paused momentarily to assess the situation. It would be easier for him to help from the shadows.
This was a public place in the country; resolving issues through sheer force wouldn't be simple. With Chen Hao's official status, it would undoubtedly make things easier. He could take advantage of the opportunity while remaining discreet.
"He's insulting me!" the agitated middle-aged man explained quietly to his companion before gesturing animatedly at Chen Hao.
The onlookers nearby quickly grasped the situation as they began to murmur among themselves.
Hearing this, Chen Hao turned and scrutinized the fellow before him with a piercing gaze. Then he spoke in a calm tone, "Indeed, you are an American of Chinese descent; that is an insult."
"Exactly," the middle-aged man's expression improved slightly.
"But it's merely an insult towards those of Chinese heritage." Before the man could finish his thought, Chen Hao continued in that same unremarkable tone as if discussing a trivial matter.
Seeing the other party back down made the man's vanity swell momentarily. However, after hearing Chen Hao's follow-up comment, his face turned crimson with anger.
Chen Hao's words drew applause and laughter from the surrounding crowd, who were equally displeased with the fellow's behavior.
"Alright, I now suspect you are involved in a spy case. Please accompany me for a moment. Here is my identification. I believe someone like you—an authentic American with a Chinese face—must have some significant conspiracy at play. I hope you won't resist; I have the authority to eliminate any threats posed by suspects if they resist," Chen Hao said as he flashed his ID before the man just as he was about to unleash another insult.
Yang Xiaoyou couldn't help but feel amused watching from the sidelines.
It seemed that Chen Hao had already been chosen as a backup mech test pilot ahead of time. The development of this aspect of the Chinese Empire must have already begun synchronously. Perhaps they hadn't yet acquired the critical technology, but some surrounding research could already be underway.
The identity of Chen Hao had changed, and his current file should have been classified as confidential. It was normal for him to carry a National Security Bureau identification for convenience, but how much of what he said was true was something Yang Xiaoyou found hard to discern.
The middle-aged man, who had nearly lost his rationality to anger, suddenly felt his heart race when he heard those words and caught sight of some stamps on the ID.
"Y-You shouldn't think that just because you show me an ID, I will be afraid of you! I'm here to do business, and everyone around here can vouch for me!"
Just as he finished speaking, a voice from the crowd rebutted him, "Who can vouch for you? All we see is a genuine American trying to disguise himself as one of us, and speaking in Chinese no less. It's quite suspicious if you think about it, isn't it?"
"Exactly! I've thought he was suspicious for a long time."
"Haha, I’m willing to testify too."
At the sound of this outcry, the nearby crowd that found him untrustworthy began to stir. Only Chen Hao glanced around when he first heard that voice. Upon seeing Yang Xiaoyou gesturing towards him, a glimmer of amusement flashed in his eyes.
Comment 0 Comment Count