Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 807: Good Times

According to the plan, they needed to take a train from São Paulo, reach a certain city, then switch to a plane, and leave the country to arrive at what Song Haoran referred to as "home."

That was in another country—though geographically, it was still located on the South American continent.

At dawn, they had already set off, leaving behind Rio de Janeiro, which was experiencing a power outage due to yesterday's storm, and headed for the train in São Paulo.

Song Haoran had visited Luo Qiu the night before and received a reply from him by midnight.

He was not surprised that Luo Qiu responded so quickly—despite everything seeming unexpectedly smooth to him.

However, his extraordinary intuition suggested that there was no problem with this matter. Without a doubt, Song Haoran had immense confidence in this intuition.

The train rumbled as it sped through the lush green forested paths.

Now, he was in the first-class cabin of the train with Luo Qiu—Song Haoran was not one to skimp on himself when traveling.

Luo Qiu had also seen the so-called Xiaoli and Aqiang.

Of course, he now knew that "Xiaoli" was named Lluvia, while the person who had previously used the alias Aqiang was actually named "O'Niel."Lluvia and O'Neil looked at Luo Qiu with some odd expressions—since Song Haoran hadn't revealed Luo Qiu's identity to them, he had only mentioned that he would be a very important "guest" of his father.

At the same time, Lluvia and O'Neil had learned through some special channels that the old man, who hadn't left the base in recent years, seemed to have started making arrangements for a trip—this meeting with Luo Qiu was apparently taking place in another city outside the base.

Although not at the base, it was still a place where the "Iris" faction was deeply rooted, a location that could serve as the territory of a local overlord for the "Iris" group.

Nonetheless, this was indeed the old man’s first departure in years—even traditional figures like the "Fire King," who were leaders of South American powers, wouldn't personally leave the base to meet someone.

Luo Qiu's identity made Lluvia and O'Neil exceedingly curious, especially given Song Haoran's unexpectedly warm attitude toward him.

"Could he be the strategist's illegitimate son?"

Lluvia and O'Neil were not in the same compartment as Song Haoran and Luo Qiu; instead, they were stationed outside like guards, on alert.

Lluvia rolled her eyes. She couldn't fathom how she had managed to partner with this guy all this time and had endured until now.

O'Niel, used to such antics, chuckled and said, "Don’t underestimate it! Back in my village, there were plenty of thirteen- or fourteen-year-olds who were already fathers! I heard that in the strategist's homeland, there’s a tradition of early marriage and parenthood!"

"The strategist is only twenty-nine this year! Luo Qiu looks like he’s twenty-one or twenty-two! How could you have kids when you were seven or eight?" Lluvia rolled her eyes again.

O'Niel shrugged and shamelessly replied, "Well, I lost my virginity at nine, and my partner was the lady next door. People used to call me 'O'Neil from next door'!"

“You’re just a boar that can only breed.” Lluvia stomped hard on O'Neil's foot.

The two began playfully bickering with each other—just then, someone walked past their seats and seemed to drop something: a note.

Lluvia casually picked it up and opened it to take a look, then exchanged a glance with O'Neil. They both then left their seats one after the other and headed to another carriage.

Before leaving, Lluvia took out her phone and sent a message to Song Haoran.

---

Song Haoran seemed very interested in the scenery outside the train window.

He propped his chin on his hand, gazing out, while his other hand fiddled with a round pendant he wore around his neck. Luo Qiu was sitting across from him, quietly reading a book.

Suddenly, a notification sound rang from the phone resting on the makeshift table. Luo Qiu and Song Haoran both glanced at the phone, their eyes meeting unexpectedly.

Song Haoran didn’t seem in a hurry to check the message; he simply smiled slightly and continued looking outside.

“That’s a special pendant,” Luo Qiu suddenly asked.

Song Haoran looked over. “Are you interested?”

Luo Qiu said, “It just seems rare for someone to wear a pendant like that. Does it have a special story? You look like you’re thinking about something.”

At that moment, Song Haoran suddenly spoke in a mysterious tone, lowering his voice. “What if I told you this pendant was a gift from the gods, and it could grant incredible power to its owner? Would you believe me?”

Luo Qiu was taken aback but then chuckled lightly. “Like that black giant python from your adventure stories?”

“You still haven’t answered me: do you believe it or not?” The playful look on Song Haoran's face deepened.

Luo Qiu responded straightforwardly, “At least let me see for myself what this so-called incredible power is.”

“Then watch closely!” Song Haoran took a deep breath and spread his arms in front of Luo Qiu.

His fingers were long, perfectly suited for playing the piano.

He rolled up his sleeves, then took out a coin and placed it in his left hand before making both hands into fists and holding them out in front of Luo Qiu.

“Which hand do you think the coin is in now?” Song Haoran asked with a smile.

Luo Qiu pointed to his right hand.

But when Song Haoran opened his right hand, there was nothing there.

He then opened his left hand, revealing that the coin was still there, without any changes. Song Haoran chuckled, “Does this count as incredible power?”

Luo Qiu smiled and looked out the window. “You’re like sunshine.”

“I just thought you seemed a bit gloomy.” Song Haoran placed the coin on the table and began to spin it, as if he could have endless fun with just that coin.

“It’s really just the two of us, so there’s no need to book this entire space,” Luo Qiu casually said. “Why not let your friends join us?”

“They have other things to do, so they can stay in the back carriage,” Song Haoran replied, looking at Luo Qiu and blinking. “As for booking this space, the purpose is quite simple.”

Luo Qiu showed a look of confusion.

Suddenly, Song Haoran clapped his hands, and a flight attendant from first class pushed the door open, carrying a bottle of red wine.

“Drinking?” Luo Qiu was a bit surprised.

But Song Haoran shook his head and suddenly stood up. “She’ll keep you company.”

Song Haoran smiled and walked behind the attendant, gently holding her arms. “She’ll make you forget the boredom of the journey, and of course, if you want to do something else, there’s plenty of time… Hmm, I have a few things to take care of myself.”

“Wait a minute…” Luo Qiu frowned.

“Make sure to take good care of this esteemed guest, beautiful miss.”

“Of course, Mr. Song.”

With that, Song Haoran gave a little pat on his backside and left the room.

There was no doubt that the woman had an outstanding figure and appearance, and she was sending flirtatious glances—she was even of Asian descent, perfectly fitting the aesthetic standards of the locals.

“Sir, may I sit down?” the woman asked as she settled into her seat, exhaling softly. “My name is Gan Hong.”

Luo Qiu nodded, curious about her accent. “Where is your accent from?”

The woman’s eyes sparkled as she gently bit her lip. She then retrieved two glasses from under the table, leaning a bit closer to Luo Qiu on purpose.

“My father is Vietnamese, and my mother is Thai.” Gan Hong smiled slightly, skillfully opening the bottle of red wine.

“What did Mr. Song say to you?” Luo Qiu asked, intrigued.

Gan Hong replied softly, “To take good care of you and make sure you’re satisfied. No matter…”

She leaned slightly forward, revealing a charming and deep neckline, her voice becoming even softer. “...anything.”

“Anything?” Luo Qiu nodded.

“Anything,” Gan Hong said, sounding as gentle as a female slave from ancient times.

“Well, then let’s sleep,” Luo Qiu said, nodding.

Gan Hong was taken aback for a moment, then quickly reacted and smiled. “Sir, you’re really straightforward… So, how would you like to sleep? Down below, or… is it… is it… is it…”

Before she could finish, Gan Hong’s head drooped, and she fell asleep instantly. Luo Qiu shook his head, slightly waved his arm, and her body was sent to a seat by the aisle.

“With the surname Gan, she must be from a prominent family in Vietnam,” Luo Qiu thought.

A familiar voice sounded.

After dealing with Gan Hong, Luo Qiu had just opened his book when he heard You Ye's voice. He closed the book and lifted his gaze.

In the aisle of the carriage, a maid dressed in a flight attendant uniform was pushing a food cart. For quite some time, Luo Qiu had vaguely known that the maid had a hobby of changing outfits.

For instance, when visiting other people's laboratories, she would wear a white coat, saying it made her fit the environment better.

“Sir, it’s afternoon tea time. May I ask what you would like?”

If someone didn’t know her, they would likely mistake her for one of the highly qualified flight attendants responsible for serving first class on the train.

Luo Qiu smiled and played along, “What do you have?”

The attendant replied with a smile, “Cupuacu salad and bacon rolls. For drinks, we have a special fruit tea or Ipanema coffee.”

The attendant opened the elegant silver food covers one by one, poured the fruit tea and coffee into two different cups, and finally served a glass of plain water in a regular glass, placing them all in front of Luo Qiu.

The napkin and utensils were also laid out one by one.

“Sir, please enjoy your meal.” The maid disguised as a flight attendant smiled and nodded before pushing the cart away.

“Sit down. Since you’re here, keep me company,” Luo Qiu instructed.

The portion on the table was enough for two people. Seeing the disguised maid sitting across from him, Luo Qiu couldn’t help but ask with a smile, “I remember I left only this morning?”

“But didn’t the master say that I could take care of things in the shop now? And the master also asked me to remember to arrange meal times and try the best flavors?”

“Hmm… and then?” Luo Qiu asked, intrigued.

The maid replied softly, “Dining with you is the taste worth remembering.”

After unfolding his napkin, Luo Qiu nodded with a smile. “My uncle shouldn’t be back so soon… Hmm, Miss Chef, are you not going to introduce me to how this bacon roll is made?”

“I’d be happy to.”

The train rumbled along the tracks, its sound rhythmic, while the afternoon sunlight spilled through the curtains, creating dappled patches of light.

The green scenery flew by.

Leisurely time.

And the quietly sleeping… original attendant, Miss Gan Hong.

…

Song Haoran brought back a double-sized bottle of coffee from the service desk in the back carriage. After passing through several compartments, he finally found O'Neil and Lluvia.

They had arrived earlier and were sitting at a booth, where another slightly older man was seated as well. O'Neil was sitting next to him.

When Song Haoran approached, O'Neil stood up and pretended not to know him. “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”

Song Haoran shrugged and stepped aside to let O'Neil pass, then sat down. He looked at the man sitting across from him and said calmly, “I’m a bit tired; do you mind if I rest here for a while?”

The man casually replied, “Go ahead.”

Song Haoran seemed to strike up a conversation. “What do you do for a living, sir?”

The man’s gaze flickered slightly, seemingly nervous, but his voice remained relatively steady… or perhaps deliberately calm. “Meat products, a small business. And you?”

“I run a farm,” Song Haoran replied proudly. “Every animal on our farm is fed the best feed, regularly checked, vaccinated, and all documentation is complete. Of course, the prices are a bit higher, but it's absolutely worth it.”

“Is that so?” The man nodded. “Do you offer delivery?”

“There’s no service that money can’t buy. As long as you pay more, we can deliver anywhere,” Song Haoran smiled. “Of course, if it’s outer space, we can’t help with that.”

“How would that work?” the man asked.

Song Haoran replied nonchalantly, “That depends on whether you want beef, lamb, or pork.”

“Beef.”

“How much?”

“One cow is enough. Just make sure it’s properly slaughtered, with all the paperwork in order, then refrigerated.”

“Where to?”

“Here.” The man pulled out a card.

“Our farm’s policy is to pay half the deposit upfront. Is that alright?” Song Haoran tucked the card away.

“That’s fine.”

At that moment, Lluvia casually adjusted her clothes before leaving the booth. However, before she left, she took a black briefcase from under the table.

Not long after, O'Neil returned and, seeing Song Haoran still sitting in his spot, frowned. “Hey, that’s my seat!”

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn't get a ticket,” Song Haoran quickly stood up and apologized. “How about I sit across instead? That lady just left; I’ll only be here a little longer.”

“Get lost!” O'Neil scowled menacingly.

Song Haoran immediately stood up. “OK, OK, EASY! EASY, MAN! I’m leaving now, alright?”

No one paid much attention.

Many people were in the same situation, unable to get a ticket and only having standing room, so they moved around looking for empty seats.

…

…

When Song Haoran returned, the attendant named Gan Hong had just walked out from the first-class carriage.

She rubbed her neck, looking a bit puzzled.

Song Haoran looked at her in surprise and blinked.

Gan Hong shook her head and bit her lip. “I’m sorry, sir, I think I fell asleep…”

“You really fell asleep?” Song Haoran blinked again. “Can’t you see? This guy really did fall asleep! Not bad, pretty bold… looks like there’s some hope for branching out.”

“Sir, actually…”

“Alright, alright, you go ahead and get busy,” Song Haoran waved his hand dismissively. “Go back and collect your reward.”

“No, sir, actually I…”

“Let’s go, let’s go.” Song Haoran continued waving his hand and pushed the door open to walk inside. Gan Hong, seeing this, felt like there had been some misunderstanding but didn’t want to make a fuss, so she quietly left.

Song Haoran returned to his seat and patted Luo Qiu’s shoulder. “So, how’s it going? Enjoying the lovely time?”

“Sort of,” Luo Qiu replied with a smile before looking back down at his book.

Song Haoran cursed under his breath: such a reserved person.