Chapter Fifty-Six: Settling Down

Xie Bo stood outside the main gate, his right hand lightly pressed to his chest as he bowed in greeting.

“To earn the client’s anticipation and satisfaction is the greatest success of our Chamber of Commerce. The items that Mr. Fan ordered—books related to computers, Chef He’s lifetime contract, and the one-year employment contracts for the other nine individuals—we have brought them all as agreed.”

“Excellent, I’ve prepared the funds. We can proceed with the transaction immediately,” Fan Bei replied with great satisfaction.

“As for the method of transaction, I hope your side can substitute part of the payment with food and drinking water. I believe this would also be of great benefit to you,” Xie Bo suggested sincerely.

Fan Bei nodded at once. “Manager Xie, you truly think of your clients’ interests. Very well, let’s do as you propose. I’d like to know how much you require, and at what purchase price.”

He certainly wasn’t lacking in water; there was a spring within the shelter, an absolutely pure, uncontaminated natural source. As for food, he had ample reserves, though the production cost was high; selling it might not be worthwhile.

Xie Bo quickly produced a price list, placing it beneath the camera for Fan Bei to capture and review at leisure.

Fan Bei scrutinized the price list he had just saved as an image. The last time he contacted the Silver Chamber for orders, they had explained a detailed list of services, including the sale of food. Comparing the two, he found the selling price listed was thirty percent higher than the purchase price. This was expected; after all, the Chamber made its profits by buying low and selling high as they traveled between settlements.

After some thought, he said, “I can only sell a small amount of food, but there’s no limit to how much water I can provide. The truth is, the production cost for food here is quite high.”

“That’s why you need to reclaim farmland outside. This valley is excellent; once the evil spirits are cleared, you’ll be able to open up much arable land,” Xie Bo quickly responded. “Using electricity to power sun lamps for agriculture is undeniably costly. The purchase price we can offer now can barely cover your costs; but if you switch to natural farming, selling food to us will be highly profitable.”

“Well said, Manager Xie. You always keep your clients’ interests at heart,” Fan Bei replied sincerely.

“Naturally. True business means advancing together with our clients. If the client suffers losses, the business cannot last; only win-win situations endure,” Xie Bo said earnestly.

It was a fair statement—if only you could keep your hands clean, I might actually believe you.

Such thoughts flitted through Fan Bei’s mind. The three Liu brothers who had tried to take advantage of the chaos during the evil surge had ultimately died by his own hand—wasn’t that, in a way, the Chamber’s method of erasing evidence?

As long as there was no proof, rumors remained mere rumors and could not truly harm someone of Xie Bo’s rank. With this in mind, Fan Bei made a private note in his journal, labeling Xie Bo as “hypocritical and cunning—requires high vigilance.”

Having settled his thoughts, Fan Bei spoke again: “Very well. Let’s begin the transaction. Please provide me with the quantities of water and food you require…”

…

An hour and a half later, Fan Bei and Chef He each drove one of the shelter’s two small transport vehicles, delivering five truckloads of drinking water and half a truckload of food to Xie Bo’s caravan. In addition, he handed over some gold, worth five thousand silver coins.

Only after delivering all these did he receive the ordered books, Chef He’s lifetime contract, and the nine individuals along with their one-year employment contracts.

Just as Lang Sheng had said, the entire process went smoothly and without incident. On the surface, the Silver Chamber strictly adhered to the universal rules of commerce—fair trade, no shoddy goods passed as genuine.

Chef He verified each person; all matched the list, with no imposters. Fan Bei glanced over the computer books—more than one hundred and twenty volumes, almost all newly published within the past two years.

In the end, Fan Bei, Chef He, and the nine others stood at the gate, watching the departing caravan fade into the distance. This time, there were not many vehicles entering the valley for the trade—just over a dozen. According to Xie Bo, most of the convoy was waiting on the main road outside the valley for regrouping.

Once the vehicles were gone, Fan Bei turned to the group. “My name is Fan Bei, the current owner of Shelter No. 364. From today, you are all members of this shelter. I hope everyone will unite and work together to build our new home.”

He took a moment to observe their faces.

Nine people: six men and three women, all of whom appeared deeply grateful and responded in unison.

“Uncle He, you know these people. I’ll leave the rest to you—arrange their accommodations in the newly cleared residential area,” Fan Bei added, then left with Dabai, as he still had his daily tasks to complete.

For Chef He, these newcomers were a fresh test.

As soon as Fan Bei departed, the nine grew visibly more at ease, chatting excitedly among themselves.

“Old He, I thought I’d never see you again, nor my daughter,” said a woman in her forties, her face lined with wrinkles and eyes brimming with tears.

Beside her stood a young woman, about twenty, both clutching Chef He’s hands and refusing to let go.

“Dad, am I dreaming? Are we free again?” the young woman cried, throwing herself into Chef He’s arms. She was dressed plainly in a gray shirt and blue trousers, her face thin and tanned.

“All right, all right. It’s not safe out here. Let’s go inside and get settled first,” Chef He, though equally moved, remembered his responsibilities. He hurriedly ushered everyone through the gate.

Once inside the brightly lit corridor, Chef He carefully closed and locked the door, then led them through the winding passages toward the shelter’s eastern residential area, explaining the rules as they walked.

“At present, there’s only Mr. Fan and his remarkable white dog in the shelter. That’s the one you just saw; his name is Dabai and he’s Mr. Fan’s trusted companion. Don’t provoke him—he understands human speech and won’t harm you,” Chef He instructed.

The group listened attentively as he continued, “Also, stay away from the control room and generator room—those are important areas. When you need to work in the agricultural or storage zones, use the other passage; I’ll show you the way later.”

He repeated himself tirelessly, fearful that the newcomers—family and friends alike—might inadvertently break any of Fan Bei’s rules.

Being a chef, he was well-versed in the art of hospitality.

“Yes, Uncle He. We’ll do exactly as you say. After leaving that hell, anything is better than before,” said a young man in tattered blue overalls, nodding vigorously.

“Good, Xiaogang, you’ve finally grown up,” Chef He said with relief. “Old Chen didn’t rescue you in vain.”

The young man bowed his head, squeezing out a few tears. “I didn’t understand before. From now on, I’ll listen to you and do my best to live well, so my father won’t be disappointed in the afterlife.”

“All right, it’s all in the past. We must look forward, live well, and work hard without causing trouble. Mr. Fan is an honorable man—he won’t make things difficult for us as long as we do our part,” Chef He reassured them.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

After half an hour, they arrived at the shelter’s landmark—the Grand Cross Corridor.

“From here, head east for the residential area. To the west are the control room and Mr. Fan’s quarters—don’t go there unless permitted,” Chef He emphasized once more, leading everyone through the corridor into the residential district.

The streetlights in the residential area were already lit, illuminating rows of neat two-story houses. At the entrance hung a somewhat worn sign: “Happy Homeland.”

Seeing the wide, orderly neighborhood of two-story buildings, their excitement mounted.

“How many houses must there be here?”

“We finally don’t have to sleep in bunk beds with strangers.”

Chef He quieted them with a wave and explained, “There are forty buildings here, each with two floors. Each floor has five to seven rooms—designed for ten to fifteen people per building.”

“For now, there are only ten of us. My family will take one house; the other seven of you can discuss and group yourselves however you like—try to use just two buildings.”

His wife spoke up, “It’s a waste for only ten people to use three buildings. Let’s all stay in one for now; it’ll be easier for everyone, and more people will surely come in the future.”

“Aunt Liu is right, Uncle He. It’s better for us to stay together and look after each other,” someone agreed.

Others nodded, though a few cast longing glances at the many empty houses, they kept their silence.

“Very well, we ten will stay in Building 1 by the entrance for now. Please work together to clean and tidy up—I’ll bring you food shortly.”

“Once you’re settled, I’ll invite our host to help resolve any remaining issues.”

With Chef He’s careful arrangements, hope and light began to kindle in everyone’s eyes.