American comic: From Beijing with Love, starting with a mutant.

At the drop-off area of ​​Jiuquan High-speed Railway Station, Stephen Chow got off the train carrying a suitcase.

That's a distance of over two hundred kilometers!

If this brat doesn't see me off, and I have to take one of those black cabs that cost two thousand yuan or more, I'll be ripped off until I'm penniless.

That stingy Wang Pangzi would never reimburse such an exorbitant travel expense!

The driver, Polaris, rested one hand on the steering wheel and removed his sunglasses.

"Hey... will you come again in the future?" Her voice carried a hint of awkwardness that she was trying to hide.

Zhou Xingxing straightened his slightly disheveled tie.

"What? You want me to stay here in the Northwest as a free cook for the rest of my life? I'm a key member of the bureau, making hundreds of thousands every minute!"

Seeing his clueless and oblivious expression, Polaris's eyes twitched twice. She pursed her lips and pushed her sunglasses back up on her nose.

"Buzz!"

The jeep sped away.

"Cough cough cough! That brat, her temper's still so explosive!"

Stephen Chow looked disheveled in the wind, adjusted his hat, and turned to walk towards the high-speed rail station entrance.

……

Two days later, he arrived in Korla, where Luke Shaw worked in the experimental farm of the Institute of Plant Protection of the Chinese Academy of Agricultural Sciences.

This is located on the northern edge of the Tarim Basin at the southern foot of the Tianshan Mountains, at an altitude of 950 meters, with an average annual temperature of 11.5℃. Luke Shaw is doing very well here, and Zhou Xingxing is not surprised to find that the guy has also picked up the local accent.

His physical recovery is going well, and he'll be able to take off soon.

Fortunately, he didn't drink, which relieved Stephen Chow after he finished his investigation. After staying for two days, he still chose to leave despite the other party's attempts to persuade him to stay.

......

Stephen Chow finally arrived at the Guizhou high-speed railway station.

At the station square, a Wuling Hongguang van covered in yellow mud was parked on the side of the road.

Two people were standing next to the car.

Mortimer, the toad-man, looked around in his green safety vest.

The one next to me with slicked-back hair is Miguel the gerbil.

The gerbil had sharp eyes and spotted Stephen Chow in the crowd at a glance.

"Oh my!" Gerbil greeted him, "Director Zhou! I've missed you so much! You've suffered so much on your journey, you must have had a tough time!"

Not a buddy.

You're a Las Vegas gangster, a shady dealer, how come your accent is all over the place?!

"Brother Zhou! Get in the car! The air conditioning's on, it's so cool inside!"

The gerbil diligently took the suitcase and opened the recessed car door.

The rickety bread truck chugged and rattled its way onto the road.

Along the way, the gerbil fully utilized its opportunistic and charming instincts.

"Brother Zhou, I've been drilling anchor bolt joints at the bottom of the pit lately, and I'm working incredibly hard! I drill eighty holes a day, which is even better than a tunnel boring machine! Even Engineer Zhao praised me as a born drilling genius!"

Gerbil rubbed his hands together, turned around from the passenger seat, and grinned broadly.

That expression was as obsequious as could be.

"Look... with my performance, could you put in a good word for me with Director Wang?"

"That quota for converting outsourced workers to permanent employees... and that six types of insurance and two types of housing funds..."

Stephen Chow leaned back in his chair, expressionless: "As for getting a permanent position, the organization considers performance. Don't get emotional, trust the organization, understand?"

"Understood, understood! I was born a rat of Bureau 749, and I will die a dead rat of Bureau 749!" The gerbil nodded repeatedly, wishing he could rip his heart out.

The toad-man gripped the steering wheel and chuckled twice in a simple, honest manner.

"Director Zhou, we heard that your family member was coming today, so the canteen specially slaughtered a free-range chicken and stewed sour fish soup to treat you."

Stephen Chow felt a sense of relief as he listened.

Take a look!

This is the true great achievement of socialist transformation!

……

A few hours later, at the construction site canteen.

Under the red plastic canopy, a table of specialty sour fish soup and poached chicken is steaming hot.

Stephen Chow had just picked up his chopsticks, ready to feast.

Suddenly, the gerbil presented a treasure, pulling out an earthenware wine jar with a whooshing sound.

The jar, sealed with mud, still had a faded red cloth strip tied to it.

"Brother Zhou!"

The gerbil obsequiously uncorked the red cloth: "This is 45-proof corn liquor that I got from the village chief! Pure grain brewing!"

He raised a large earthenware bowl, his face beaming with excitement: "Today we brothers are reunited, we must drink until we drop! Let's drink it all up!"

Are you coming again?!

Harry, the water ghost from Henan, has an alcohol immunity; Masha, from the northwestern desert, enjoys a tonic soup made with Cistanche deserticola and Ussuri tea...

Those painful memories flashed wildly through my mind like a revolving lantern.

As if on cue, Stephen Chow launched himself forward, his feet touching the ground, and used a sliding step to jump more than three meters away.

"Are you plotting to murder a high-ranking official of the imperial court?!"

"I'm telling you! I'd rather die of thirst today! I'd rather jump off this sinkhole than drink a single drop of alcohol!"

"Take it away! Take it away right now!"

These mutants, instead of learning anything good, have become so proficient in drinking culture!

Anyone who dares to urge me to drink today, I'll take a butcher knife and shave their head!

The gerbil trembled all over.

Finished!

The flattery backfired spectacularly!

"Yes...yes! I'll take it right away!"

The gerbil, clutching the jar of corn wine, took three steps back, bumping its lower back against the edge of the table and nearly knocking over the sour fish soup bowl.

"Brother Zhou! Director Zhou! I was wrong!"

"My brain's filled with muddy soup! I'll get it out of here right now! Ten feet away from you!"

Stephen Chow pointed at the wine jar, his face ashen.

"Where to send it? Put it in the warehouse and seal it. The label should say: 'Ling Lingqi Allergen, get it destroyed if you get near it.'"

The gerbil nodded repeatedly, then turned and ran out the door, clutching the wine jar.

The toad-man sat at the table, holding chopsticks, and picked up a piece of sour fish soup and put it into Stephen Chow's bowl.

"Director Zhou, don't be upset. Lao Mi just wants to perform well; he's afraid of failing his promotion assessment."

Stephen Chow glanced down at the fish.

The red soup was piping hot, and the fish meat glistened with oil.

He picked it up and put it in his mouth to chew.

"Performing well is fine, but flattering to the point of being intoxicating is like using a dangerous chemical; it must be strictly controlled."

Old Li, carrying his rice bowl, came over and called out to the toad-man, "Master Mo, could you take a look at that section with the overhead netting tomorrow? The number two suspended basket is swaying a lot."

Another young worker held up the safety rope buckle: "Brother Mo, can you take a look at this buckle? Is it okay?"

The toad-man put down his chopsticks and looked over: "The buckle is facing outwards, buckle it again."

"Taking shortcuts at high places is like falling in love with the King of Hell; if you succeed, the whole village will feast on you."

The young worker shrank back and said, "Okay, okay, I'll change it right away."

Old Li slammed his hand on the table: "Did you hear what Master Mo said? It's more effective than the safety officer's lectures!"

Stephen Chow spat out a fishbone and checked the "Group Integration" section on the follow-up form.

A short while later, the gerbil ran in, sweating profusely, carrying two enormous chicken legs wrapped in oil paper like precious treasures.

"Director Zhou, have a chicken leg! This chicken is free-range in the mountains, the meat is firm, and every bite brings you the warmth of the organization!"

Stephen Chow took the teacup: "Have you been slacking off lately?"

"Heaven and earth bear witness!" the gerbil cried out in desperation.

"I drill into the gaps between anchor bolts every day until my fingers go numb, and even picking up a pickled radish with my chopsticks while eating makes my fingers tremble! What I'm drilling into now isn't just rocks, it's my future! It's the broad road to a life with six types of insurance and two types of benefits!"

The toad-man chuckled and added, "He's been very diligent lately. Yesterday, he even stayed behind to help Group Three fix two rows of eyes."

Having received Master Mo's approval, the gerbil puffed out its chest and proudly raised its chin.

"Master Mo can attest to this! I'm very progressive in my thinking!"