When he was woken up, the first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was the fresh and charming scenery of the resort town.

Hall cheerfully said as he pushed open the car door, “I’ve already informed Richard, he’s prepared a lavish dinner. Let’s have a blast tonight.”

Samuel Young didn’t say anything, but a Black man passing by overheard Hall and got excited. He started swaying in front of the two of them: “Let’s party, let’s party, oh man, oh, yo yo, the night lights are bright, girls are swinging on the dance floor, yo yo! My heart is shaking, oh yo yo, let’s have some fun!”

What on earth is this? Samuel Young looked awkward, but the Black guy was happily dancing away.

The key point was, Hall didn’t know him either.

Chapter 8 Under the Starry River, My Territory

There were very few people in the resort town, and the fast food restaurant was still quiet and empty tonight.

As soon as he saw the two of them enter, Mason excitedly came up to greet them. He opened his arms and gave Samuel Young a friendly hug: “Welcome, welcome, Yang, welcome to you. The kitchen is bustling with preparations, guys, let’s be patient for now—tonight there’s definitely a feast.”

“I believe that. You only did one big deal for me this month, so of course you’re going to rip me off,” Hall said, lighting a cigarette.

Looking at the empty restaurant, Samuel Young curiously asked, “Manager Mason…”

“Call me Richard, Yang. We’re neighbors now. Even though we’re still a bit far apart, we’re neighbors, so just call me Richard.” Manager Mason interrupted him.

Samuel Young shrugged, “Alright, Richard, but your business doesn’t seem too good?”

“Not good at all,” Manager Mason also shrugged. “There are less than a hundred households in the resort town, and most of them are just here to make money. They won’t come out to eat easily, so it’s inevitable that business isn’t good.”

He further explained, “You might not know, but the resort town is a newly established small town, only officially registered with the city government last year. But I bet this town will eventually become very prosperous, so my investment now is worth it.”

With so few diners, the chef prioritized preparing dinner for them, so the dishes came out quickly, one after another.

Just as Hall said, he had Mason prepare a grand feast: there was barbecue, seafood, cheese-baked prawns, grilled scallops with asparagus, tuna with vegetable mashed potatoes, grilled ribs, beef patties, and even French dishes—pan-seared foie gras and flambéed escargot.

The flambéed escargot was the most unique. The dish involved dicing marinated snail meat, stir-frying it with mushrooms, bamboo shoots, and ham until about eighty percent cooked, then stuffing it back into the snail shells.

That wasn’t all. There was some kind of fuel on the snail shells, and after the dish was brought to the table, Mason lit it with a match, and flames immediately burst forth.

In an instant, each big snail turned into a little fireball.

Samuel Young immediately took out his newly bought phone to snap photos—he’d have to post these to his Moments once he had internet.

Mason proudly invited him to try the foie gras: “This is our restaurant’s signature dish. Try it, I guarantee you’ll give it a thumbs up.”

Samuel Young cut off a piece of foie gras and put it in his mouth. The foie gras was tender and delicious, with almost no liver odor, and instead had a faint, lingering milky aroma. He immediately gave a thumbs up.

The foie gras really was delicious.

Mason said, “There’s a trick to this dish, buddy. You have to marinate the foie gras in milk for twelve hours, then sear it in butter. When it’s almost done, sprinkle on some abalone sauce. That way, when it enters your mouth, it goes—BOOM!”

He exaggeratedly spread his arms wide like an explosion, his face full of pride.

Hall raised his beer glass and said, “Come on, gentlemen, let’s raise a glass together to celebrate Mr. Young’s successful and smooth purchase of his dream land. Let’s wish him even more success in the future!”

Samuel Young happily picked up his glass, then asked, “Walker, you still have to drive back to Hluhluwe later, right? How can you drink then?”

The blonde girl serving the dishes smiled gently, “I can drive him back.”

Mason took the opportunity to introduce, “Oh, I haven’t mentioned her yet—this is my sister, Cecilia Mary Mason. Sometimes she also goes back to Hluhluwe.”

Hluhluwe is a famous small town in South Africa, well known for tourism. Samuel Young had heard of it.

Hall swirled his beer glass and said, “Come on, drink up, Young, you have to down it in one go. This is Kudu King, it’s your Chinese beer, right?”

Samuel Young laughed, “No, no, it’s Tanzanian beer, but I heard all the ingredients are shipped from China.”

He didn’t know if that rumor was true, but Chinese people liked Kudu King for that reason, especially during holidays—it was a must-have beer.

A stranger in a foreign land, I miss my family all the more during festivals.

Eating and drinking to his heart’s content, Samuel Young had a truly satisfying meal.

He ate a lot, so after dinner he had a good excuse to take a walk: “Sorry, Richard, your food was too good—I’m stuffed. I have to go for a walk to help my digestion.”

Mason immediately pulled out a knife and handed it to him: “Then you’d better be careful. Take this for self-defense.”