Farming Life Starting in Africa

Ma Xiao's face immediately turned red. The "noob" Rosen was referring to was him—in the last game, Ma Xiao missed free throws in a row, his shooting form was particularly awkward, and he even airballed twice. He was so bad that his teammates were embarrassed to watch him, and he became the laughing stock of the entire game.

"Hey, don't pretend!" Ma laughed anxiously, his voice rising half an octave. "They got a pro player at their company last month. His three-point shooting is incredibly accurate, but he's a bit short, only about 1.7 meters tall, which puts him at a disadvantage."

Rosen curled his lip in disdain and took the fan off his face: "Can anyone be as accurate as me? I'm the '100% accurate' marksman! If a short guy stands in front of me, he can't even touch the ball."

Miao Feng punched Rosen's arm, leaned closer, and whispered with a mischievous grin, "Heh, that guy is our boss's nephew, here to get some experience. He's just a kid, fresh out of college. He won't go on stage if you go, so you don't embarrass yourself."

"Forget it, I'm not interested." Rosen rocked his chair. "There's no intensity at all. Basketball is only fun if there's some contact. Playing against a bunch of people who get out of breath after running a few steps is not as fun as just shooting by myself."

He genuinely had no interest. His strength, stamina, and reflexes were already at the peak of what an average person could achieve. Playing against a bunch of people who didn't train much was like an adult beating children; there was no point in winning.

Miao Feng picked up his beer, took a sip, and asked again, still unwilling to give up, "Really not going? The prize money is ten thousand yuan."

"No, no," Rosen waved his hand, then suddenly perked up, "My marksmanship has improved dramatically lately, I'm about to become a world-class marksman!"

Ma Xiao immediately disbelieved him, plopping down in a chair: "You're bragging! You can hit a target three thousand meters away?"

Rosen glanced at him sideways and honestly said, "No."

"See? I told you you were bragging. You can't even hit a three-thousand-meter shot, and you call yourself a world-class athlete?" Ma's smile stretched almost to his ears.

Pan Wenjia, who was sitting next to her husband looking at her phone, kicked him hard when she heard this: "Use your brain when you speak! You're a reporter, and you have no common sense at all. Even I, a doctor, know that a normal person can't even see a target clearly at 400 meters, let alone 3,000 meters. If you see a shadow at 1,000 meters, you can't even tell if it's a person or a tree!"

Ma Xiao immediately grinned and went over to his wife, putting his arm around her shoulder: "Hey, hey, I know, honey, you're right. I'm just arguing with him."

Rosen didn't bother with Ma Xiao. If it weren't for the fact that it was his first time in Africa and he hadn't contracted severe dysentery as soon as he got off the ship, and Pan Wenjia happened to be at the port on business and encountered him, a patient with a face as white as a sheet of paper, Rosen might have been buried in the ground as soon as he got off the ship.

Rosen picked up his beer bottle and clinked it against Miao Feng's with a "clang": "So, when are you planning to go back to China?"

"Ugh, don't even mention it." Miao Feng sighed, threw his cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. "Well, the signal tower collapsed, and our team had to work overtime again. It'll probably be extended for a few more months, at least three months."

"Is there no one left in your unit? It's not like your group is the only one."

"You know perfectly well that our unit has a lot of unseen leaders and few actual workers; they're all just here to get their resumes. There are only three or four of us who actually know how to repair signal towers; the rest are just sitting in their offices drinking tea and reading newspapers."

"Your application to return to China has been approved, so is it appropriate to lie to your family?" Rosen took a sip of beer.

"They pay me a lot," Miao Feng said with a wry smile. "They've raised it to eight hundred a day. Do you think I can leave?"

"Heh, it's not like it's US dollars. I still suggest you go back to China as soon as possible. It's not safe here. Those Turks have been making quite a stir lately. Don't end up earning money but not being able to spend it."

At this moment, Ma Xiao leaned over again with a fawning smile, rubbing his hands together: "Hey, Xiao Luo, you're well-informed. Tell me about any recent news."

Ma Xiao is a foreign correspondent who has already missed several project deadlines. His company is planning to lay off a number of employees, and he's likely on that list, so he's been frantically searching for story topics.

"Get out of here." Rosen glanced at him, his tone rude. "You're the most restless one. It's dangerous everywhere out there now; you have to risk your life for news. Last month, that guy from your unit went to film some armed conflict, and he got shot in the leg. He's still lying in bed, isn't he?"

"Opportunity always lies within risk!" Ma Xiao said quite confidently, shrugging his shoulders. "I'd even like to win a Pulitzer Prize!"

"I'll cripple you and you'll behave!" Rosen glanced at Pan Wenjia beside him; she was looking down at the news on her phone, oblivious to their presence. He then lowered his voice and leaned closer to Ma Xiao: "Are you out of your mind? Your wife's five or six months pregnant, right? You're going to risk your life? What if she really kicks the bucket? Aren't you afraid someone else will live in your house, sleep with your wife, and beat your child?"

Upon hearing this, Ma Xiao's face immediately fell, turning ashen like a donkey, and his cheerful expression vanished instantly.

Rosen, unfazed, took another sip of beer and said slowly, "Seriously, avoid the news lately. I have a feeling something's going to go wrong. Safety first. If you want to win an award, you'd better be alive to see it, right?"

Ma Xiao glanced at his wife, then turned back to her, his voice lowered and pleading: "It's not that I want to work hard, I'm just afraid of being laid off. There's been a lot of restructuring at work lately, and the next round of layoffs will be announced in about a month. If I can't produce a decent report soon, I'm definitely out."

"If all else fails, go back to China and become a social media blogger." Rosen shook the bottle. "I'll give you some ideas, you'll definitely become famous, and supporting your family won't be a problem."

"Really?" Ma Xiao's eyes lit up, and he moved even closer, almost touching Rosen's face.

"When have I ever lied to you?" Rosen pushed his face away. "Being a social media blogger is a promising career. If you do it well, you can easily make tens of millions a year."

"Holy crap!" Ma Xiao exclaimed excitedly, his voice rising. "Then tell me exactly what to do? Be specific!"

"The simplest and easiest way is to do mukbang (eating broadcasts) all over the country," Lawson said casually. "Take Dr. Pan on a trip, eating along the way. Spend three to five days in each city, eating local specialties and hole-in-the-wall restaurants. While eating, talk about the local culture, scenery, food, and history. If you stick to it for two or three months, you'll naturally build up your output. Don't do those 'big eater' shows, they're too fake. Just eat for real, the audience likes to see real food."

"Anything else?" Ma Xiao listened intently, not even blinking.

Hassan, sitting silently beside him, rested his hands on his knees, glancing at this person and that person, his mouth opening and closing as if pondering how to begin. His expression was conflicted; he wanted to speak but dared not.

Pan Wenjia and Miao Feng witnessed this entire scene—Pan Wenjia nudged Miao Feng with her elbow, and Miao Feng nodded slightly.