Farming Life Starting in Africa

"What else?" Patrick didn't even look up, his eyes fixed on the fuel gauge.

"Aren't you afraid this oil drum will explode? It's been sitting out in the sun for ages, isn't it?"

Patrick finally looked up at him, his expression one of barely suppressing as if he were looking at a fool, but he still patiently explained, "No, this is diesel fuel."

Zhuo Yifan's face flushed red instantly. He quickly changed the subject, pretending nothing had happened: "Where did your boss go to deliver goods this afternoon? What big deal has he been up to lately?"

Patrick clicked his tongue but didn't reply. Keeping your mouth shut is very important here; you shouldn't say anything about the boss if you can avoid it.

Seeing that the other person didn't want to talk to him, Zhuo Yifan gave an awkward laugh, feeling embarrassed. He turned his head and saw a Hummer parked next to him, boxy, tall and imposing, like a small fortress.

The car was parked in the yard, covered in a thick layer of dust, with dirt all over the windshield, looking like it hadn't been moved in a long time. He habitually pulled on the car door—"click," the door opened.

"The car wasn't locked?" Zhuo Yifan was a little surprised.

"Yeah, nobody dares to steal the boss's car in Uller, so it doesn't matter whether it's locked or not."

Zhuo Yifan grabbed the auxiliary handle above the car door and plopped down inside.

"Oh my god!"

The seat was as hot as a sizzling hot plate. The moment his butt touched it, he bounced up, almost hitting his head on the roof.

The car was like a giant oven; the air was scorching hot, and even the steering wheel was burning to the touch. Zhuo Yifan grimaced and squirmed in the seat, finally getting used to the temperature, his face looking like he'd just eaten a bitter melon.

But he's the kind of person who's incredibly proud. Since he'd already gotten in, he figured he had to take a good look. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to examine the car's interior. Everything was characterized by clean, straight lines, without any fancy curves. The seats were made of coarse cloth, and the center console was full of physical buttons that felt very solid. A sturdy support frame stood in the middle of the windshield, giving it a reassuring look.

Zhuo Yifan liked it more and more as he looked at it, and that itch in his heart started to rise again. He shouted at the top of his lungs from inside the car, "Patrick! Is your boss selling this car?"

Patrick poked his head out from the ATV and thought for a while: "I don't know, but the boss hasn't driven this vehicle in a long time."

As they were talking, the all-terrain vehicle was fully fueled. Patrick pulled the fuel hose out of the tank, put it back on the fuel drum, and turned to walk into the house.

The African sun is so intense that even black people can't withstand it. Working under the scorching sun for a long time will still lead to heatstroke; he's not made of iron. Most of the work the conscientious boss assigned him was actually at night.

Zhuo Yifan sat in the car for less than two minutes, and his clothes were already soaked with sweat. The temperature inside the car was probably over 70 degrees Celsius, which made him feel a little dizzy.

He quickly climbed out of the car, his legs were a little weak.

As soon as he entered the room, a blast of cold air hit him, and Zhuo Yifan exhaled a heavy breath of hot air.

In the blink of an eye, she saw her sister and Lawson sitting on the sofa, chatting and laughing. She didn't know what funny thing they were talking about, but Zhuo Weixi's eyes were crinkled with laughter.

Zhuo Yifan immediately became unhappy, his face turning as long as a donkey's: "Hey! Is that Hummer outside for sale?"

Rosen turned around and answered without hesitation, "Sell! This car is the best of the best, I modified it bit by bit."

Zhuo Yifan didn't doubt Rosen's story. He had bought things from here several times before, guns, accessories, and the like. They were indeed quite good, well-made, and made with high-quality materials. The only downside was that they were a bit pricey, but you get what you pay for.

"How much?"

"Four hundred thousand dollars." Rosen didn't even blink when he announced the figure.

Zhuo Yifan's expression clearly said, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Rosen is a shrewd guy; you could tell from his expression that he thought it was too expensive. He quickly added, "We can install an M2 heavy machine gun on the roof for you!"

Zhuo Weixi, who was listening nearby, couldn't stand it anymore and playfully punched Luo Sen. "Give him a discount. My brother comes here to collect scrap, don't always think about making a big profit. Understand the principle of small profits but quick turnover?" She paused, then added, "Besides, what's a small business owner like him doing with a machine gun in his car? Is he going to be a terrorist?"

Rosen clicked his tongue. "Alright then, for your sake, three hundred thousand dollars. The heavy machine gun is gone!"

"Hey!" Zhuo Yifan immediately objected, pointing at Rosen and then at his sister, waving his finger back and forth between the two. "I've only been gone a short time, and you two are already so close?"

Rosen leaned back on the sofa, legs crossed, looking completely innocent: "Yeah, your sister's a Gemini, and her air sign is a perfect match for me!"

Zhuo Yifan's face darkened upon hearing this. He didn't even know his sister's zodiac sign, yet this guy knew it all?

"Xiaoxi, you really need to stay away from him. This guy has a foul mouth and is stingy."

Rosen immediately became displeased and interrupted him: "Hey, is it polite of you to insult a bald man in front of a monk?"

"You want to hit on my sister? Do you have any manners?" Zhuo Yifan retorted without backing down.

Rosen blinked, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Heh, I was supposed to go on a blind date last night. If I hadn't had something else to do, I could have met your sister earlier."

Zhuo Yifan was stunned and looked at Zhuo Weixi: "Huh? Is what he said true?"

"Pretty much," Zhuo Weixi smiled gracefully. "Rachel told me yesterday that she was going to introduce a friend, but then said she had something to do and couldn't come."

"Hey!" Zhuo Yifan's tone rose eight octaves. "You have to come to this godforsaken place for a blind date? Is there no one left in the country? Where are all those tagalongs following you? Aren't they all better than—" He suddenly stopped and glanced at Rosen.

He wasn't afraid of Rosen beating him up, although he certainly couldn't beat him. The main thing was that he was starting to seriously consider the price of that Hummer. Three hundred thousand dollars—it was expensive, but cheap, compared to the five million tank he'd just bought, it was dirt cheap.

What if he offends Rosen now, and Rosen suddenly raises the price? What if he changes his mind and refuses to sell?

There aren't many rich kids who really squander money; most are quite shrewd. They may be rich, but they rarely waste money. Otherwise, the first generation of rich kids would teach them what thrift and diligence are all about.

Zhuo Weixi found it extremely funny to see her brother looking somewhat exasperated.

"It's just to get to know him. Rachel said he's a very interesting person, and she's very close to Sen's uncle, so she highly recommended him."

Rosen grinned; it seemed his uncle really wanted to introduce him to a rich woman.