Landlord in the Arctic

He’d also take the opportunity to have a good talk with the old man and, on account of their pleasant cooperation, ask for a little more money.

Feng Shan didn’t think his request was excessive. ’I won’t ask for much,’ he mused, ’just an extra 10 million will do.’

Besides, the Wild Bull Tribe had its own oil company; money was rolling in for them.

Their daily income was like a flowing river. A little extra cash like this was just a drop in the bucket for them.

Feng Shan had already choreographed the whole script in his head. He was just waiting for the old man to agree to the pay raise.

He would then feign a moment of reserved hesitation before smoothly agreeing to the Wild Bull Tribe’s request to turn the Crown Territory into a Holy Land.

That way, it would be a win-win. Both sides would be happy, each getting what they wanted.

With that 30 million, he’d have more backbone when negotiating with Damen Engineering Company. He’d have leverage, and the purchase of the fishing boat might actually move forward smoothly.

But who could have predicted that the old man, Uerta, would completely go off-script today?

He announced he was leaving right from the start, looking so urgent it was as if there really was an emergency back at the tribe waiting for him.

Not only that, but as soon as the old man started, the other chiefs all chimed in.

Every one of them sounded so convincing.

Something about a new pod of whales swimming into the bay that they had to get back to, or needing to go to the capital, Juno, to consult about relocation matters.

In any case, there was a whole slew of varied excuses.

Well, that was just great. They’d killed the conversation completely. Staring at the solemn expressions on these old foxes, Feng Shan was dumbfounded.

’If you all leave, how am I supposed to negotiate?’

His perfect plan was smashed to smithereens, the calm expression on his face vanishing in an instant.

Feng Shan forced a smile. "Don’t be in such a hurry to go back. Today is Christmas Day. You can stay and have fun for a couple more days; there’s plenty of time."

However, the more enthusiastically Feng Shan tried to get them to stay, the more it looked like a veiled rejection in Chief Welta’s eyes.

Rather than stay here and wait helplessly for an explicit refusal that would make things awkward, it was better to take the initiative and leave, giving himself a graceful exit.

Besides, it would be better to bring that matter up again once preparations were properly in place.

The chances of success might even be higher then. There was no need to rush it.

Thinking of this, Chief Welta quickly stood up, waving his hands back and forth like a rattle-drum as he spoke incessantly.

"No, no, it’s precisely because it’s Christmas Day that we’re in a hurry to get back. Everyone in the tribe is waiting for me to preside over the Christmas activities. This is a major event of the year; it can’t be delayed. Besides, the plane will be here soon. Time is tight."

Feng Shan was speechless, unable to stop himself from complaining internally.

’Since when did Indians start celebrating Christmas?’

’And you Inuit, too. You’re just jumping on the bandwagon.’

But complaining was one thing; the situation before him had already spiraled out of control.

The other tribal chiefs were all sharp as tacks, their ability to read a room honed to perfection.

Seeing the Elder Chief so adamantly refuse and even take the lead in leaving, they understood perfectly. They knew following the Elder Chief’s lead couldn’t be wrong, and they immediately chimed in.

"Yes, yes, the plane will be here any minute. We should get going. We can’t keep our people waiting."

"My tribe is also having a Christmas party today. As the chief, it would be inappropriate for me not to attend. This is a major event for tribal unity. I’ll come again next time I have the chance."

"That’s right, my people are all waiting for me. I’m getting anxious myself!"

As they spoke, Chief Welta gave Feng Shan no chance to interject. He strode forward, patted Feng Shan heavily on the shoulder, and said with a friendly expression.

"Feng, I’m heading out. This party was really great. I’ll definitely come again next time I have the chance. Goodbye!"

The other chiefs followed suit, all saying their goodbyes at once.

"Yes, Feng, goodbye."

"Come see the whales in Kaktovik when you have time. I’m off."

"Wiseman welcomes your visit."

And just like that, in a short moment, while Feng Shan was still looking bewildered, the Indigenous chiefs retreated as quickly as a receding tide. They vanished without a trace, leaving Feng Shan sitting alone and dazed in his chair.

A female employee walked over carrying a foamy mug of beer. Seeing the empty table and chairs, she paused, a look of confusion on her face, and blurted out a question.

"Huh? Where’d they go?"

"Oh, they went back to their tribes for Christmas. They left early!" Feng Shan, still reeling from the shock of the chiefs’ sudden departure, answered in a daze.

Then, as if suddenly realizing something, his brows furrowed, and he muttered in confusion, "Indigenous People celebrate Christmas?"

In Feng Shan’s understanding, Indians and the Inuit had their own cultures and traditional holidays.

It didn’t seem likely that Christmas would be something they were so enthusiastic about, especially at a critical juncture like this.

"Oh no, they haven’t paid for their drinks yet!"

The female employee had no time to ponder the holiday preferences of Indigenous People. To her, a dine-and-dash was a big deal; it would affect her income.

Her eyes widened, her voice filled with urgency, and she turned to chase after them.

"Forget it. I’ll pay the bill," Feng Shan said, shaking his head helplessly with a wry smile.

He had been planning to coax 30 million out of Chief Welta to solve his pressing problems.

Now that plan had backfired.

Not only did he fail to get the money, but he ended up having to pay for their drinks out of his own pocket.

’How did I get so unlucky? Who can I even complain to?’

Feng Shan reluctantly counted out a few bills from his wallet and handed them to the eagerly waiting employee to settle the bill.

Afterward, he left the tavern, feeling completely dispirited.

The camp, now stripped of its festive clamor, was silent. Only the lonely echo of his footsteps on the gravel path remained.

Feng Shan felt a hollowness inside. Usually, he was surrounded by a lively crowd of people, talking business or just shooting the breeze.

But now, walking on the path, he couldn’t find a single person to talk to. The sense of solitude was unsettling.

"Big Bro."

Just then, a clear, bright voice shattered the silence.

Feng Shan looked up and saw Xiaohua cheerfully walking toward him with Black Hide and Hu Zi, quickening her pace as she came down a winding path.

He quickly shook off his gloom and forced himself to put on a cheerful face as he went to meet them.

As he got closer, he saw Hu Zi had a sour look on his face.

His expression was as dark and grim as storm clouds before a downpour.

Feng Shan couldn’t help but ask curiously, "What’s wrong with you?"

"Her!" Hu Hu Zi, seething with anger, jerked his chin irritably toward Xiaohua and started complaining, the words tumbling out. "We just went to the shooting range, and Sun absolutely refused to let Hua’Er shoot. He said the recoil would jostle the baby in her belly. But Hua’Er, oh no, she just had to shoot. And a heavy machine gun, no less."

"So what if I shot it? Only you men are allowed to shoot guns, and we women can’t? The baby is perfectly fine right now."

When Xiaohua heard this, she wouldn’t have it. She shot Hu Zi a fierce glare, her eyes seeming to say, ’Mind your own business.’

Then she took a few steps forward, linked her arm with Feng Shan’s, and began to sway it gently as she whined coquettishly.

"Big Bro, will you take me hunting, please? I don’t want to be stuck in the camp all day. Ever since Sister Jenny and the others left, I’ve been bored to death."

Feng Shan raised his hand slightly and gently tapped the tip of Xiaohua’s nose. His face was full of doting affection, but his tone carried a hint of criticism.

"Sun was right. You can’t play with guns when you’re pregnant. The noise and recoil have a huge impact on both the mother and the fetus. In a mild case, it can affect the baby’s normal growth and development. If it’s serious, it could even lead to a miscarriage. This is no joke, you know?"

"You hear that?" Hu Zi chimed in from the side.

His already dark face grew even darker at Feng Shan’s words.

It was like the bottom of a pot.

However, Feng Shan then changed his tune. "Of course," he continued, "firing a shot or two occasionally isn’t a big deal. As long as you’re wearing the necklace I gave you, it’ll provide some protection, so it shouldn’t be a problem."

"I am wearing it!" Xiaohua’s eyes lit up the moment she heard that.

She quickly pulled the Bear Tooth Necklace out from her collar, dangled it proudly in front of Feng Shan for a moment, and then carefully tucked it back in.

Then, with a pout and a childishly wronged expression, she asked, "Big Bro, when are we going back home?"

Feng Shan looked at Xiaohua, a faint smile on his lips, and asked softly in return.

"What’s wrong? You don’t want to stay in the Crown Territory anymore?"

....