Old Chairman's small courtyard was full of life. The loofah and string beans climbing on the trellises were lush and green, and several lychee trees were laden with bright red, delightful fruit. An old hen led a brood of chicks, pecking and scratching around the yard... Scene after scene of vibrant rural life left James Bolton marveling in awe the moment he stepped into the courtyard. Nestled among the loofah and winter melon trellises stood a row of four spacious red-brick houses with bright tiles, radiating a cheerful atmosphere.

"Uncle Harper, your house is really big and beautiful. When my house is built, if it can be like yours, I'll be satisfied." After Old Chairman had chased away the big black dog that had rushed out at the sight of a stranger, James Bolton couldn't stop praising.

When someone compliments your home, of course Jack Harper felt happy, but he still smiled modestly and replied politely, "Beautiful? What’s beautiful about it? Aren’t all farmhouses like this? You’re just used to living in the city, so everything in the countryside feels fresh to you. Besides, land in Harper Village isn’t worth much. As long as you don’t bother others, you can build your house however you like and no one will care. My yard isn’t that big—once you get familiar, you’ll see there are plenty of bigger ones in the village."

As he spoke, Jack Harper led James Bolton into the house, calling out, "Wife, we have a guest for lunch today—go kill a chicken so we can have something to go with our drinks." Naturally, this "wife" was Jack Harper's spouse.

Old Chairman was a very hospitable host. Not only did he instruct his wife to kill a chicken and prepare extra dishes, he also specially invited the next-door neighbor, a man in his forties named George Harper, to join them as a companion.

Aunt Harper was a capable woman, quick and efficient at slaughtering chickens and cooking. Before James Bolton, Old Chairman, and George Harper had even exchanged a few pleasantries, the table was already filled with steaming hot dishes and slightly cloudy homemade liquor. After a bit of polite urging, everyone sat around the table, toasting and drinking together.

Although Aunt Harper's cooking wasn't quite at the grandmaster level of his own, the table full of farmhouse dishes still left James Bolton thoroughly satisfied. The choy sum, baby bok choy, and other greens were all grown in their own yard—fresh and completely free of chemical fertilizers or pesticides, the purest green vegetables. The pork was from a local pig slaughtered by another villager a few days ago, raised on leftovers and fresh grass, with absolutely no hormones. The chicken was a free-range bird just killed, and the fish was wild, caught by George Harper in the river that very morning...

As James Bolton ate, he thought to himself, "Just this table of food—never mind that there’s no lobster, abalone, or other fancy delicacies—if you put it in one of those slightly upscale restaurants in Shenzhen, it would cost at least several hundred yuan. Green food really is the best—so delicious!"

Mouth full of fragrant farmhouse dishes, looking at the well-furnished room with TV, telephone, refrigerator, and sofa, James Bolton couldn't help but sigh, "This really is an economically developed area. Even Harper's Place, which is considered a relatively poor village in southern Guangdong, seems to have a pretty good standard of living! Compared to villages in northern Guangdong, it’s like heaven and earth, not to mention those poor places in western China."

Just as James Bolton was sighing inwardly and drinking with George Harper, the phone in Old Chairman's house rang.

Old Chairman apologized to James Bolton and went to answer the phone. He had barely spoken a couple of sentences before his voice suddenly rose, "What did you say? Eight thousand? Did you just come out of the Great Hall of the People? Even highway robbery isn’t this bad! We don’t need you, we’ll find someone else, all right?" With that, he slammed the phone down in anger. When he returned to his seat, he said nothing, just picked up his glass and downed it in one gulp. Clearly, this shrewd old man was fuming inside!

Seeing Jack Harper so angry, James Bolton was a bit taken aback and didn’t know what to say. But George Harper, who had been invited to join them, seemed to know something and tentatively asked, "Uncle, was that call about hiring the master chef?"

Still fuming, Jack Harper nodded and said gruffly, "Yeah, that fat guy thinks all us country folk are fools, doesn’t he? Everything was agreed before, and now he wants to change the terms—he’s doubled the price, asking for eight thousand a day! Who tries to rip people off like that? Forget it, we won’t use him, we’ll find someone else!"

"Uncle, that fat guy really is shameless. Changing the deal at the last minute—he’s just trying to screw people over! Who does that? But if we really don’t use him, is there still time to find someone else? I hope this doesn’t mess up Erwa’s big event!" George Harper was angry too, but still a bit worried at the end.

After hearing this, Jack Harper looked troubled, the wrinkles on his brow forming a deep frown. He took a few deep breaths, grabbed his bamboo pipe from the side, lit it, and started smoking in silence.

Seeing Jack Harper looking so troubled, and not knowing what was going on, James Bolton couldn’t help but ask, "Uncle Harper, is something wrong? Tell me, maybe I can help." After all, they were going to be together for at least a few years, and James Bolton also felt that Jack Harper was a sincere and decent person, so he figured he’d help if he could.

Only then did Jack Harper remember there was a guest at the table. He quickly set his bamboo pipe aside, forced a smile, and said, "It’s nothing, it’s nothing. Come on, eat, eat."