Farming Life Starting in Africa

Rosen chuckled and complimented, "Uncle Ming has a good appetite."

Guan Yuming scooped up a large spoonful and stuffed it into his mouth, mumbling, "This taste... you can tell it's military rations just by smelling it."

He took another bite, his eyes narrowed, and the wrinkles on his face smoothed out a little, as if the food had pulled him back to a distant point in time.

Rosen nodded. "Yes, the project manager hired a cook from the military. His name is Li Niu; he used to work in the mess hall."

He pointed to a cook not far away who was carrying a bowl of vegetables onto the table. The man was not tall, with broad shoulders and a rather large head. He was wearing a faded apron and stirring something in a stainless steel basin with a spoon.

Guan Yuming glanced at the man and said nostalgically, "Not bad, the cooks are full of hidden talents. Back when I was doing physical training, I was outdone by an old cook squad leader."

While eating, Guan Yuming talked about his time in the army, which was more than forty years ago. Rosen could tell that he still missed his days in the military.

After finishing his meal, Rosen put his bowl and chopsticks aside, took a tissue to wipe his mouth, and then looked at the black Nissan Sunny that Guan Yuming had driven. The car was covered with a thin layer of dust, and there was a long scratch on the left front bumper, stretching from the edge of the headlight all the way to the fog light.

Rosen walked over, walked around the car, and pressed the hood. The steel plate dented and bounced back; it was as thin as a piece of paper.

He crouched down and looked at the thin anti-collision beam under the front bumper, which was about the size of a chopstick. He reached out and tugged at it, and it actually wobbled.

Rosen knew this car only had a front bumper beam; a rear bumper beam? What was that...?

Actually, it's not that there's absolutely no energy absorption; for example, the rear seats are perfect energy-absorbing devices. If the kinetic energy is too great, then the front seats can absorb energy together.

Rosen stood up and dusted off his hands. "Uncle Ming, we're not going to drive this all the way to Mexico, are we?"

"Yeah, this car is inconspicuous, but it's safer to drive it to Mexico." Guan Yuming quickly finished the food on his plate, let out a satisfied burp. He had eaten breakfast, so this was probably dessert.

Rosen thought about it and agreed. This trip was to Juárez, one of the most chaotic cities on the other side of the Mexican border, where kidnappings, robberies, and gunfights were common occurrences, with different names making the news every week.

If he drove his G-Wagon there, it would probably be changed hands if it was out of his sight for more than half an hour. It wouldn't be long before it ended up in some car modification shop, completely transformed and rebuilt.

"Alright then, is it alright if I bring a few extra useful items?"

Guan Yuming opened the driver's side door and plopped down inside. "What are you taking with you?"

Rosen unzipped the large hiking backpack at his feet and tilted the opening towards Guan Yuming. Guan Yuming picked up a bottle of mineral water from the car and was rinsing his mouth. He glanced at it and quickly stopped himself from spitting out the water.

Because he saw that in Rosen's bag, at the very top, was the receiver of a PKM general-purpose machine gun, with a section of its thick barrel protruding out, gleaming with a matte gray-black sheen in the sunlight.

There were several hand grenades underneath, with dark green casings and iron rings on their safety pins. Next to them were two pistols stuffed in cloth bags, with their grips sticking out. Below that were probably shotguns or something similar, but he couldn't see anything below that.

He swallowed the mineral water in his mouth, stared at Rosen, his eyes wide, "Why are you bringing this thing with you? We're not going to start a war!"

Rosen patted the bag as if it were the most natural thing in the world, then zipped it up again. "Didn't you say you wanted to bring something handy? These are the things I use most easily."

Upon hearing this, Guan Yuming leaned against the car door frame, propped his forehead with one hand, and let out a long sigh. "You can't get through border control even if you bring it. There's an X-ray scanning arch over there. Once it goes through the machine, your bag will be more attractive than a hot Latina woman. We'll be stuck there before we even reach Mexico. Put it back right now!"

Rosen sighed as well. Without any weapons on display, he felt uncertain about his situation.

But he had no choice but to carry the backpack back to the space capsule, put the weapons inside into the capsule space, and then stuff more of the racing machine and some other miscellaneous things into the bag.

A moment later, Guan Yuming saw Rosen return to the car carrying the backpack and couldn't help but ask, "Did you put it back?"

"Yeah, we changed some things."

Guan Yuming asked curiously, "What is it?"

Rosen grinned and said, "They don't deal with things like pepper spray and stun guns, do they?"

"It's nothing."

Rosen leaned into the passenger seat, his backpack resting beside him. He reached out and adjusted the direction of the air conditioning vents, the cold air blowing against his face, carrying the distinctive dusty smell of an old car.

Guan Yuming held the steering wheel with one hand and rested the other hand on the car window, his fingers gently tapping the car door in sync with the drumbeats of the Mexican folk song playing on the radio.

The vehicle was traveling on the road to El Paso, the border crossing between the US and Mexico. From there, it would take them directly to downtown Juarez.

The two chatted casually along the way. "Uncle Ming, what's the matter that you're going there for this time?"

Guan Yuming sighed before speaking, "Oh, don't even mention it. Things have been quite unstable in Mexico lately. One of our previous business partners was killed by his men, which has caused a batch of our cargo trucks to be stuck near Juarez and unable to be dispatched."

Rosen asked curiously, "So what are we going to do?"

"Let's try negotiating first," Guan Yuming said. "If that doesn't work, I'll look for other channels."

Rosen glanced at his half-deflated backpack at his feet. "You think you can negotiate with them without weapons?"

Guan Yuming rolled his eyes and curled his lip. "How many weapons can you carry? How many guns can you have? If a problem really needs guns, the two of us won't be enough."

He paused, then continued, "Besides, border control is very strict. If you're caught carrying a gun, we'll both be dead right here today. Can you handle a minimum five-year prison sentence?"

Rosen could only agree with him, but he admired him for daring to do business in Mexico without any equipment.

He suddenly became curious about what Guan Yuming meant by "other channels." "By the way, Uncle Ming, what are these other channels you mentioned?"

Guan Yuming was silent for a few seconds before speaking, "Well, it's just about spending money to get the US military to help with the delivery."

Rosen paused for two seconds, then turned to look at him, his expression probably quite interesting. "The US military?"