Landlord in the Arctic

Chief Welta sighed softly, his voice laced with a hint of regret.

"Unfortunately, Feng did not agree to my conditions."

What!

The news hit them like a bombshell, instantly exploding through the crowd.

Feng had actually refused the offer.

The Inuit Tribe Chiefs' eyes all widened in unison.

It was as if their eyeballs were about to pop out of their sockets, and shock spread across their faces like a tidal wave.

Not even twenty million US dollars a year could move Feng Shan.

How could their tribes, who barely scraped by on hunting, possibly have the leverage to make demands of Feng?

In an instant, they all felt that their hopes for an Inuit Holy Land were slim.

Chief Welta impassively took in everyone's expressions.

'This is the perfect time to present my plan,' he thought to himself.

He coughed lightly, cleared his throat, and took a small step forward.

His eyes held a certainty born from experience, and his voice was steady and powerful as he spoke.

"Everyone should have seen clearly what just happened at the bonfire, right?"

As he spoke, Chief Welta's gaze slowly swept over the crowd.

He pulled everyone's minds back to the shocking scene before continuing.

"I suggest we all make a joint request to Feng to let the Crown Territory become a shared Holy Land for the Alaska Indians and the Inuit."

A shared Holy Land?

When the Inuit Tribe Chiefs heard those four words, their eyes instantly lit up like stars, as if they had seen the light of dawn in the dead of night.

They were stunned at first, then exchanged expectant glances.

'That's right, what a brilliant idea!'

The wealthy Indians would provide the money, while the Inuit would provide the manpower.

The two sides would work together and present the request to Feng jointly.

Doing it this way would give them a much higher chance of success.

As they thought of this, their tense expressions gradually relaxed, and they began to discuss the details of carrying out the request.

"But what conditions can we use to convince Feng to agree?"

Anthony, the Chief of the Wiseman Tribe, frowned deeply.

The wrinkles on his face seemed to deepen.

His question, tinged with confusion, shattered the brief atmosphere of joy.

His question was like a bucket of cold water, instantly dousing the flames of enthusiasm that had just been ignited.

It brought everyone crashing back to the reality of their predicament.

Conditions again.

Hearing this, pained expressions appeared on everyone's faces.

Some chiefs shook their heads and sighed helplessly, while others bit their lips, lost in thought.

Everyone knew that convincing Feng would be difficult.

He didn't even want twenty million US dollars.

What on earth did Feng want?

Just then, Chip, the Norvik Chief who had been standing silently to the side, suddenly had a flash of inspiration, as if he'd remembered something.

He subconsciously glanced around.

After confirming no one was paying attention, he slowly leaned in closer to the group.

He lowered his voice and said mysteriously.

"Fellas, I have a great idea. Here's the plan..."

After hearing Chip's suggestion, everyone's eyes lit up.

They immediately nodded in agreement.

The worried looks on their faces were swept away, replaced by excitement.

The corner, which had been quiet and oppressive, now buzzed with activity, filled with this newfound hope.

Everyone started talking at once.

They began to heatedly discuss how to execute this brilliant idea.

...

The Christmas Eve dinner party was in its latter half.

The area was still brightly lit and bustling with excitement.

Feng Shan, who was lying by the bonfire sobering up, felt his throat was so dry it might as well have been smoking, as if a fire was burning inside his body.

Uncomfortable, he immediately raised a hand and waved it weakly.

His voice was hoarse and tinged with urgency as he yelled.

"Water! Get me some water!"

The next moment, a gentle hand cradled the back of his head.

Then, cool water touched his lips.

Like a dying fish gasping in a dried-up pond, Feng Shan grabbed the water container with both hands. He completely disregarded his image, gulping it down. GULP, GULP, GULP.

Water trickled down from the corners of his mouth, soaking his collar, but he didn't care in the slightest.

Just then, a woman's surprised cry sounded by his ear.

Feng Shan endured the dull ache in his brain.

It felt as if countless needles were pricking it.

He dazedly opened his eyes.

His vision was blurry at first, only gradually clearing after a few moments.

The first thing he saw was Zicao's gentle and anxious face.

Only then did Feng Shan realize he was leaning in Zicao's arms.

And at some point, his hands had tightly gripped Zicao's.

"Khilla, you're awake?" Zicao's voice held a trace of pleasant surprise, her eyes full of concern.

"Where am I?"

Feng Shan opened his mouth, his voice still hoarse.

He wanted to sit up but found his body was as heavy as lead, completely drained of strength.

Every movement seemed to exhaust all his energy.

The exhaustion felt like he had just gone through a session of intense physical labor.

"Don't move." Seeing this, Zicao quickly reached out to stop him from moving about. She tilted her head back slightly, raised her voice, and called out, "Father, Khilla is awake."

Her clear voice echoed around the bonfire, causing many people nearby to turn and look.

Hearing her, Bear's Fang, Nash, Chief Welta, and a crowd of Inuit Chiefs rushed over anxiously.

In the blink of an eye, they surrounded Feng Shan, forming a tight circle of people.

"What are you guys doing?" Feng Shan blinked.

He stared blankly at the indigenous chiefs gathered in front of him.

He subconsciously reached out, signaling for Nash to pull him up.

"Feng, don't you remember?" Chief Welta's face was wreathed in smiles, and his expression seemed to hold a hint of indescribable intimacy.

"Remember what?"

Feng Shan frowned, completely bewildered.

The dazed look on his face became more pronounced, and he even momentarily forgot about his drunken headache.

He hurriedly searched his mind for fragments of memory, but his recollection stopped at dancing with the Bear Tribe and downing drink after drink.

Feng Shan couldn't help but wonder.

'Did I do something shocking again?'

'Otherwise, why are all these people looking at me with such fawning expressions?'

His gaze slowly swept over the crowd as he tried to find some clues in their expressions.

Seeing Feng Shan's lost and helpless expression, Chief Welta understood.

The man before him had truly forgotten everything that had happened.

'But then again,' he mused, 'it's actually normal that he doesn't remember.'

'After all, according to the animist beliefs we follow, the spirits of all things just borrowed Feng's body to perform a miracle. It's only reasonable that there would be some side effects.'

Chief Welta was just about to speak.

He was preparing to explain to Feng Shan what had occurred.

Just then, a sudden commotion erupted from the edge of the crowd.

Xiaohua, Hu Zi, and Black Hide squeezed their way in. Xiaohua held up a phone that was playing a video, her face beaming with excitement as she said loudly,

"Bro, you were amazing! What did you put in the fire to make it spray out patterns?"

Fire?

Patterns.

Hearing those two words, Feng Shan's heart clenched, and a shiver ran through him.

It was as if he'd been struck by an electric current.

He snatched the phone from Xiaohua's hand.

He stared at the screen, his eyes filled with unease.

On the phone's screen, he was standing in front of the bonfire, looking just like a lunatic on a drunken rampage, flailing his arms and legs in exaggerated, comical movements.

Meanwhile, sparks continuously shot out from the bonfire.

They miraculously combined in mid-air to form one animal shape after another: a mighty bear, a swift eagle, an endearingly clumsy walrus...

Watching this scene, Feng Shan felt his head buzz. A chill shot up from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, and he cursed inwardly.

'Dammit!'

'I've gone too far this time.'

He looked at the tribe chiefs, each of them with shining, expectant eyes.

Feng Shan felt his scalp tingle, and his voice carried a hint of exhaustion and helplessness.

"Don't say anything right now. I just want some peace and quiet."

He really didn't have the energy to deal with these people at the moment.

His mind was still a mess; he had to first figure out what exactly had happened.

With that, he pushed past the chiefs surrounding him.

His steps were unsteady, but he moved away from the bonfire as quickly as he could.

Along the way, the guests and employees who had come to the party didn't seem to care much about the miraculous event at the fire.

In their eyes, it was most likely an interactive show arranged in advance by the boss.

Nothing to make a big fuss about.

On the contrary, what everyone was gleefully talking about and found most amusing were Feng Shan's various absurd drunken antics and his wild, undignified sleeping posture.

...