Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 822: The Gate of Life (1)

Cold Residence

This was a traditional Chinese courtyard, named "Cold Residence." However, tall walls had been built around it, enclosing it inside. Otherwise, if the Cold Residence were fully exposed, it would seem completely out of place with the ancient architectural style of this beautiful harbor city, Cartagena. Inside the Cold Residence, not only was the exterior designed like an old Beijing courtyard, but even the furnishings had a classical and elegant feel. At this moment, a red sports car stopped in front of the high gate of the Cold Residence. After the gate was knocked on and opened, the car slowly drove inside. A tall, slender girl, around twenty-two or twenty-three years old, with pinkish-purple dyed hair and dressed in a black short-sleeved shirt, stepped out of the car. The entryway of the Cold Residence was named the "Dragon Hall." At this moment, a middle-aged man, in his forties or fifties, slowly walked out of the Dragon Hall, accompanied by two women in their thirties dressed in servant uniforms. "Miss Ying, welcome back." (Note: Ying here is 樱 which could also be translated as Sakura. However character's full name is Song Sakura which sound awkward so, Ying was used instead.) "Uncle Wu, where is Grandpa?" asked the girl called Miss Ying, handing her car keys to one of the maids behind Uncle Wu, and heading directly into the Dragon Hall. "The master is in the kitchen," Uncle Wu replied. Song Ying suddenly paused and asked in surprise, "Didn't he just come back from the village? Why isn't he resting but went straight to the kitchen?" Uncle Wu smiled and said, "Well, the master brought out some premium dried abalone he prepared while in the village. Now, he's preparing the other ingredients to make a pot of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall for a special guest." "Special guest?" Song Ying was stunned. "Who has such an important status? Grandpa hasn't cooked himself for a long time, and now he's even making Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, such a complex dish? Is it the 'Fire King' or the President?" "I heard it's a young man," Uncle Wu said, also looking puzzled. "It seems the eldest young master brought him personally. He just got off the plane and should be here in about an hour." "Uncle is back?" Song Ying blinked in surprise. "Didn't he go to Brazil? Is his work done?" "It seems like everything went smoothly," Uncle Wu chuckled. "When the eldest young master takes charge, what could go wrong? Miss Ying, should I have someone prepare hot water for you?" Song Ying shook her head, then pulled a small handgun from her waist and handed it to Uncle Wu. "No need for now. I'll go check on Grandpa in the kitchen; I haven't seen him in months." When Song Ying arrived at the kitchen, she found several maids standing outside. Curious, she asked, "What are you all doing standing here?" One of the maids quickly replied, "Miss Ying, the master ordered us not to enter. He only kept Fourth Uncle inside, saying he wanted to handle everything himself." Fourth Uncle was the head chef of the Cold Residence and Uncle Wu’s brother. He had served the Song family for decades. Yong grew even more curious. She had never seen her grandfather take a guest so seriously—not only cooking such a complex dish but also allowing only Fourth Uncle to assist. Song Ying frowned as she stepped into the kitchen. "Ah Si, is the sea cucumber ready?" "Yes, Master, it's all set." "Hmm, bring it to me. I'll slice it in a bit." At the counter, Song Tianyou, his hair graying at the temples, was wearing an apron and carefully slicing dried bamboo shoots. He seemed fully absorbed in his task, unaware that someone had quietly entered. Song Ying signaled to Fourth Uncle to stay quiet and took the prepared sea cucumber from him, walking up behind Song Tianyou. Song Tianyou caught a glimpse of a pair of pale hands silently setting down the dish and then retreating. Unfazed, he continued slicing the bamboo shoots on the cutting board. Song Ying blinked in amusement… Was her grandfather really ignoring her? He clearly noticed, didn’t he? She mischievously reached out toward the quail eggs that had already been prepared and placed beside him. But before she could grab one, Song Tianyou swiftly flicked the back of her hand with the dull side of the knife. "Grandpa! Are you trying to chop me up?" MSing Ying yelped in pain. "Who told you to sneak a bite?" Song Tianyou turned around and gently tapped her forehead. "You little rascal, when did you get back?" "Just now." Song Ying, still quick on her feet, managed to snatch a quail egg and popped it into her mouth. "Since it's almost the New Year, I was busy settling accounts and collecting some old debts. When I heard you were here, I rushed back." "Everything going smoothly?" Song Tianyou set down the knife and began wiping his hands, moving over to the stove. The stove was an old-fashioned type, the kind commonly seen in rural areas, fueled by wood branches. It burned fiercely. A large pot sat atop the stove with a steamer, releasing fragrant steam. "Don't worry, Grandpa, business was good for everyone this year—no outstanding debts." Song Ying smiled. "Several bosses even paid off last year's accounts. They said they're very grateful to you and asked when they could meet you." "No need for that, and they shouldn't send me anything either," Song Tianyou said as he stoked the fire. "We're all descendants of the Yellow Emperor, living in a foreign land. It's not easy. We help each other when we can—it builds good karma." "Hmm... but if everyone relies on that, doesn't it become dependency?" Song Ying shook her head. "Our ancestors had a saying: 'Give without expecting anything in return,'" Song Tianyou replied, standing up. "Besides, if we don't help each other in a foreign land, who will?" "I get it... but it's hard to actually do," Song Ying shrugged. Song Tianyou chuckled, "Then what can you do?" Song Ying’s eyes gleamed as she suddenly clung to his arm and playfully said, "Of course, I can eat the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall you're making, Grandpa!" Song Tianyou tapped her forehead again, amused. "This Buddha Jumps Over the Wall isn't for you. You’ve already had your share." Song Ying pouted. "The one I had when I was ten? That was ages ago… Grandpa!" "A Song family member only needs to have this dish once in a lifetime," Song Tianyou said softly. "When your uncle turned ten, I made it for him. When you turned ten, I made it for you. Now… it's someone else's turn." "He?" "You'll find out when you meet him." Song Tianyou chuckled. "Alright, don’t just stand there. Since you’re here, give me a hand and help pick the vegetables." "Huh? No way… I'm going to take a shower~" --- --- "Niece?" As the car slowly passed through streets filled with ancient architecture, Luo Qiu curiously observed the surroundings while Song Haoran explained a few things. The car seemed to be specially equipped with bulletproof features, and the front and back seats were separated so that conversations in the back couldn't be heard from the front, providing a good level of privacy. "She’s my sister’s orphaned child." Song Haoran sighed. "My father married my mother in his middle age and had me. Before that, he had another wife. However, my sister and brother-in-law died in an accident fifteen years ago, leaving behind Song Ying, who was only eight at the time. Oh… by the way, my brother-in-law joined our family through marriage, so Song Ying took our family name." "Will we meet her?" Luo Qiu nodded. "Of course," Song Haoran replied matter-of-factly. "There are only three young members of our family now, including you, so you'll need to get acquainted sooner or later. Besides, after graduating, Song Ying has been managing our business in Cartagena. She’s doing quite well, though sometimes she lacks steadiness. You’re about the same age and the same generation, so you should get closer." Boss Luo remained noncommittal. "Is there a Chinatown here?" Luo Qiu suddenly asked as the car passed a street. "Yes, my dad helped build it," Song Haoran said with a smile. "He’s also the honorary president of the local Chinese Chamber of Commerce. He couldn’t stand seeing our people being bullied while doing business abroad, so he helped establish this street. It’s not called 'Chinatown,' though; it's called 'China Street.'" "Can I get out of the car?" Luo Qiu suddenly asked. "Sure," Song Haoran shrugged, not asking why. He instructed O'Neil to stop the car at the entrance of 'China Street.' "You guys wait here; I’ll go with Luo Qiu." "OK!" O'Neil nodded, watching the two of them enter China Street. Meanwhile, Lluvia frowned, catching O'Neil's curiosity. "What's wrong?" "Don’t you feel this street seems a bit desolate?" Lluvia asked. O'Neil was startled and looked around. "Now that you mention it, I remember there used to be a Chinese pastry shop here with pretty good snacks… but it’s not open today?" Lluvia glanced over. The shop O'Neil mentioned had its doors tightly shut, and there was some garbage accumulating in front. It seemed like it hadn’t opened for business in a while. --- "There are still quite a few people here." It was a place where, relatively speaking, many Chinese people gathered. There were perhaps a few other Asian faces as well, but from other countries. For Luo Qiu, this gave a bit of a sense of being back in China—at least many of the shop signs were in Chinese. “Today’s Saturday, so there are more people than usual,” Song Haoran looked around. “I haven’t been here in a while myself. It does seem less crowded than it used to be.” “It’s probably because physical businesses are struggling,” Luo Qiu replied casually. “Are you looking to buy something, or just want to take a look around?” Song Haoran suddenly asked. Luo Qiu glanced at Song Haoran, “I plan to buy some fruit.” “Fruit?” Luo Qiu nodded. “Is that strange? When visiting an elder, you should bring something, right? Doesn’t Song Tianyou like fruit?” “Hahaha!” Song Haoran suddenly laughed, “Fruit... fruit. It’s not strange at all! Fruit is great, my father loves it, especially persimmons! Come on, I remember a fruit stall ahead that sells the best fruit on the street. I’ll take you there!” With Song Haoran leading the way, they quickly arrived at a fruit stall halfway down the street. A young man in his twenties was standing at the front of the stall, playing with his phone. “Is the owner here?” Song Haoran greeted him, but the young man barely acknowledged him. Song Haoran didn’t mind and called out again, “Is Mr. You around?” “Who are you?” The young man finally reacted, looking up. “Our boss isn’t here. What do you want with him?” “Nothing much, just an old friend stopping by for a chat.” Song Haoran shrugged. “Since he’s not here, we’ll just buy something... Do you have any persimmons?” “Nope, everything we have is here. Take a look yourself.” The young man, still engrossed in his phone, sounded indifferent. Song Haoran glanced around the shop, then exchanged a look with Luo Qiu before picking up an apple. “But I want persimmons.” “Well, there’s nothing I can do. Persimmons don’t keep well, and they don’t sell much. We haven’t stocked any for a while.” The young man pointed ahead, “There’s a new supermarket down the street. They’ve got everything. If you want something, go there. Or, if you don’t want to go, you can buy something here—all half-price.” “Everything half-price? That good?” Song Haoran raised an eyebrow. “We’re going out of business, so we’re clearing out the stocks.” The young man looked helpless. “Going out of business? Why? I remember Mr. You’s fruit stall has been here for over ten years, and business was always good... Is he retiring to enjoy life?” “Enjoy life? In his next life, maybe?” The young man shook his head. “He can’t even afford to pay me this month. He’s been washing dishes at a restaurant up the street.” “This doesn’t make sense. What happened?” Song Haoran asked. “I remember Mr. You’s business was always doing well... Also, wasn’t the shop next door his as well last year? Why is it a clothing store now?” The young man sighed. “Last year, huh? You wouldn’t know. Starting earlier this year, the rent on this street went up by several times! Then, a new supermarket opened up, selling everything cheaper than us, taking all our customers. The boss couldn’t afford the rent, so he had to downsize. But after struggling for half a year, business kept getting worse, and now we’re losing money.” “That’s impossible,” Song Haoran frowned. “I remember the Chinese Chamber of Commerce had a rule that rent here could only go up every five years, and even then, only by a small percentage—no more than five percent.” “They changed the rules ages ago!” The young man looked around cautiously, then lowered his voice. “The Chamber got a new leader, and everything changed. I heard the new supermarket is backed by this new leader. The whole point is to push us out!” “Push you out? What’s the point of that?” “You don’t get it, do you?” The young man shrugged. “I heard they’re planning a new project with the government, so they want us out. If we don’t leave, they raise the rent and let the supermarket steal our customers. We can’t hold out, so we either leave or just deal with it. A lot of places have already shut down in the past few months. We’ll be next.” Song Haoran nodded. “Hmm... the stuff here looks good. I’ll come back later.” With that, Song Haoran patted Luo Qiu on the shoulder, and they walked away from the fruit stall. Luo Qiu didn’t see any trace of displeasure on Song Haoran’s face—he was still smiling, though it felt slightly dangerous. Song Haoran suddenly looked at Luo Qiu and asked, “Can you guess where I want to go now?” “The Chamber of Commerce, right?” Luo Qiu thought for a moment. Song Haoran smiled, “Why not the supermarket instead?” “Isn’t the Chamber of Commerce closer to the answer?” Luo Qiu countered. Song Haoran checked the time, then nodded. “We’ve still got some time. Let’s go.”