Farming Life Starting in Africa

After a while, the lights in the room went out. The door opened, and Lin Zhixiong came out carrying a bag. He glanced at Rosen and said in a low voice, "Follow me."

After saying that, he walked towards the innermost room in the row of houses. As Rosen passed by the window, he seemed to glimpse a figure inside through the gap in the curtains—the silhouette looked like a woman.

He immediately understood what Lao Lin had been doing in the room, and found it quite amusing: unspoken rules exist everywhere, including Africa.

The two moved to another room, which was empty except for a stainless steel table and two chairs.

Before Rosen could even sit down, Lin Zhixiong spoke up, his voice slightly complaining, "Why are you here so late? It's kind of scary at this hour."

"I have some other things to do tonight," Rosen said, pulling two gold bars from his pocket. He had already converted all the gold coins he received into 24K gold bars through that "universal platform," and they were quite heavy.

Lin Zhixiong took the gold brick, weighed it in his hand, and found it to be quite heavy. He placed the gold brick on the stainless steel table next to him and took out a household electronic scale, a gas canister, and a spray gun head from his bag.

He placed the gold bars on the scale—both showed 1000 grams.

It wasn't that he couldn't afford a high-precision electronic scale; the main problem was that those things only had a maximum capacity of 300 grams, while the gold bars that Lawson brought each time were 1000 grams, so he had no use for them.

After weighing the item, Lin Zhixiong connected the gas canister and nozzle, lit it directly, and a blue flame shot out with a "whoosh." He then set it ablaze in the center of a gold brick. The flames licked the surface of the gold brick, and in less than a minute, the center of the gold brick began to turn a bright gold color, showing signs of melting. The burned area did not turn black.

Only then did he turn off the flame, put down the spray gun, and wipe the sweat from his forehead: "Alright, same old routine?"

Rosen nodded: "Transfer it to my account."

"Okay." Lin Zhixiong took out his phone and started typing. "But could you please not come at night next time? It's kind of scary. I thought those guys were coming to rob us."

"Hehe, I've interrupted your good time, haven't I?" Rosen looked at him with a half-smile.

Lin Zhixiong rolled his eyes, ignored him, and focused on transferring the money. A short while later, Rosen received a text message on his phone—$80,000 had been deposited. He glanced at it, the number was correct, and patted Lin Zhixiong on the shoulder with satisfaction.

"I'm gone."

Lin Zhixiong seemed to remember something, "Couldn't we use a different code next time we meet?"

"No." Rosen waved his hand and walked out of the room.

"No need to see me out," Lin Zhixiong said irritably, already starting to tidy up the things on the table.

Rosen walked back along the road in the factory area. In the distance, the braziers in the open space were still burning, the flames leaping high and turning half the sky red. The drumbeats pounded, the rhythm getting faster and faster, more and more frantic, and the crowd was completely hyped up.

The Black men jumped around the fire even more energetically, their hips swaying like motors, yelling and shouting. The Chinese laborers also joined in, jumping around awkwardly, their movements stiff, but their smiles were genuinely happy; it wasn't easy to have such a lively scene in this place.

The air was filled with the smell of barbecued meat, mixed with the smoke from burning firewood.

Rosen walked through the crowd toward the container room. At the corner of the stairs, Zhuo Yifan was gone; only Zhuo Weixi and another woman remained, sitting there drinking and chatting.

Zhuo Weixi held a glass in her hand, swirling the wine inside. The woman next to her wore a white linen shirt, her hair tied in a low ponytail, and looked quite capable.

"Ha, Brother Sen!" Zhuo Weixi saw him from afar, raised her glass and waved it at him, "I thought you weren't coming at all, why are you so late?"

Rosen climbed the stairs, the wooden planks creaking. He sat down opposite them. "It's still early, only a little past eight. The nightlife in Africa is just beginning." He tilted his head to look at the woman beside him, his eyes questioning. "And this is?"

"This is Rachel." Zhuo Weixi patted the woman's shoulder, smiling mischievously. "Haha, she deals with your uncle more."

Rachel smiled at Lawson, nodded, and didn't say anything.

Rosen smiled and extended his hand, saying generously, "Hello, my name is Rosen."

Rachel also reached out her hand, but only lightly touched the back of Rosen's hand. She glanced at Rosen and said with a smile, "You don't look like Old Qian at all!"

Rosen paused for a moment, then laughed. "There's nothing I can do, he's the ugliest one in my family. We're the opposites; all the good-looking genes went to me."

Zhuo Weixi burst out laughing and covered her mouth with her cup.

Rosen handed the bag to Zhuo Weixi: "Here, this is some wine for you. You said last time that you could drink a lot, so today I'll see just how much you can really drink."

Zhuo Weixi took the bag, opened it, and peeked inside—four bottles of red wine and four bottles of white wine. Her expression was somewhat amused. She looked at the labels, then at Lawson; Lawson's products always had a few minor issues.

"Hey, you actually took it seriously?" Zhuo Weixi's lips twitched. "I was just kidding, just saying it casually."

Rosen was speechless for a moment, shrugging his shoulders. "Really? I don't believe it!" He turned to Rachel. "Rachel, can she even drink?"

Zhuo Weixi winked at Rachel, signaling her not to undermine her.

Rachel glanced at her best friend speechlessly, but still said cooperatively, "You'll know once you drink with her."

Rosen looked at the two of them suspiciously, scanning them back and forth twice. "I sense an ominous aura. Are you two conspiring to set me up?"

"Haha, I'll go get a few more cups." Zhuo Weixi threw down the paper cup in her hand, stood up, and ran into the house.

While Zhuo Weixi was inside, Rosen and Rachel chatted for a few minutes.

Rachel is an American doctor working in Africa, at the Chinese-funded St. Francis Hospital, which is not far away. She has been in Africa for almost two years. The medical conditions here are very poor, with a shortage of doctors and medicines. She is researching a vaccine for the Ramanla virus with a doctor named Chen from China.

"You've had a tough time," Rosen said. "People in this line of work are all living saints."

Rachel smiled, her eyes fixed on the dancers in the distance.

A moment later, Zhuo Weixi came over with a wine opener and three enamel mugs. The mugs were printed with the instructor's portrait, and they were particularly large, the kind that could hold a liter of water, so they weren't for drinking.

"Come on, one cup for each person." Zhuo Weixi arranged the cups, like setting up a stall.

"Hey, this is outrageous!" Rosen picked up a glass and examined it closely. "Drinking from such a big glass? Are you drinking wine or water?"