During the day, nothing happened. In the evening, William Carter first called home, saying he was attending a friend’s birthday party and would be back late. Then, together with Sam, Sarah Thompson, and George Miller, he led a group of over fifty people to a restaurant that was neither too big nor too small. As soon as they entered, the younger guys started shouting and making a racket; the other customers were either scared away or forced out. Sam picked a clean table and had William Carter sit in the middle, then arranged for everyone else to take their seats. William Carter, Sam, George Miller, and Sarah Thompson sat together. The restaurant owner heard from the waitstaff that a group of over fifty “society people” had arrived. Thinking he might be in trouble, the owner hurried out from the back, smiling at everyone he saw. “Ah! Brothers, it’s truly an honor for you to grace my humble little place! It’s my privilege! Order whatever you like, eat as much as you want—this meal is on me!”

Sarah Thompson looked at the speaker—a man in his thirties, with as much fat on him as Sarah Thompson himself, grinning and chatting away. Sarah Thompson waved his hand and said, “You’re the owner here?”

The owner saw that the speaker was a young, chubby guy and didn’t dare underestimate him. He walked over and said, “Hehe, yes, I’m the owner. May I ask what brings you and your friends here…?”

“We’re not here to cause trouble!” Sarah Thompson pointed to William Carter beside him and said, “This is my big brother. Today he picked your place to treat the brothers to a meal. You’d better give us a fair price, or the brothers won’t be happy!”

The owner secretly breathed a sigh of relief. In J City, restaurant owners are savvy people who know how to talk to different kinds of customers. “Come on, brother, what are you saying? You coming here is a sign of respect for me. Let’s be friends—this meal is on me!”

William Carter waved his hand, “No need to be so polite, boss. We’re just here for a meal, nothing else. Bring out your best dishes, and don’t worry, we won’t let you lose money.”

The owner chuckled, “Alright! Then I won’t stand on ceremony with you brothers. I’ll go make arrangements—enjoy your food and drinks!” William Carter nodded, and the owner headed toward the kitchen in the back.

Once he left, Sarah Thompson grinned, showing his teeth. “This boss isn’t bad!” “Damn, he’s not an ordinary guy either!” George Miller muttered. Sam looked at the table, feeling something was missing, slapped his forehead, and said, “We got so caught up listening to the boss talk.” Then he shouted, “Waitress, bring me six cases of beer first!”

The waitress came over—a young girl, blushing and timidly asking, “Sir, what kind of beer would you like?” Sarah Thompson saw the girl was quite pretty and teased her, “Miss, what kinds of beer do you have here? Tell me, I want to hear.”

“We have Harbin, Eleven Degree, Jiafeng, and Five Star.”

“Anything else?” Sarah Thompson stared at the girl.

The girl blushed even more under his gaze and whispered, “No, that’s all.” “Think again, really think…”

William Carter gave Sarah Thompson a knock on the head. “You talk too much.” He turned to the girl and said, “Waitress, just bring Jiafeng.”

The girl nodded and quickly ran off. George Miller laughed and winked, “Fatty, you look too ‘patriotic’—look how you scared the poor girl!” “Damn, I’m going on a diet tomorrow…” Laughter erupted all around.

The beer arrived quickly. In no time, a few young men carried in six cases of Jiafeng from outside. Sam poured the drinks, stood up, and said, “Brothers, let’s raise our first glass to Dong-ge. A toast to Dong-ge’s discharge from the hospital!” Everyone stood up together and said, “To Dong-ge!”

William Carter stood up, smiling and nodding, “Thank you, everyone. Actually, I should be the one toasting you first, but Mr. Bolton (Sam) beat me to it. Enough talk—cheers!” Everyone shouted, “Cheers!” and the sound of clinking glasses filled the restaurant.

Sarah Thompson poured another glass and stood up, “This one is also for Dong-ge. May Dong-ge lead us to build our own empire!” Hearing this, everyone stood up and said, “To Dong-ge, lead us to build our empire!”

William Carter had just finished one glass and had to pour another, raising it, “We’ll have to rely on everyone’s efforts in the future—our achievements will be created by all of us! Cheers!” “Cheers!”

Everyone was talking and joking; the food wasn’t even all on the table yet, and already a bunch of people were “down for the count” under the table. For Northeasterners, drinking isn’t about the process—it’s about having a good time. This is directly related to the straightforward and bold character of Northeasterners. The person you fought with today might be your sworn brother tomorrow. Frankness, boldness, and not sweating the small stuff are in their nature. Although it’s hard for friends from the south to understand, I think that’s exactly what makes them so lovable.

The four of William Carter didn’t drink as wildly as the others; they drank and chatted. Sam held his glass and said, “Dong-ge, I think we should set up an organization. Now that we have more and more people, it’s hard to manage without a proper structure!”

Sarah Thompson and George Miller had already been thinking about this and nodded. George Miller said, “San-yan-ge is right. If we want to make something of ourselves, we need our own organization.” Sarah Thompson added, “Yeah, just like the Axe Gang in our city—how impressive is that!” (The J City Axe Gang is an old local gang; no one knows when it started. It’s recognized as a mafia organization.)