CHAPTER 221: CHAPTER 108: SHOCK! ZHANG FENG IS AN IMMORTAL!_2

"Our people go out every day, so maybe they’ll run into him."

"Let them meet him then." Zhang Feng was curious about Boss Long’s activities, "Let me know if you find him, thanks."

"No need to thank me." Old Fang laughed, "Our department is planning to scatter our staff to different places soon, so it’ll be just lending a hand."

...

In the afternoon, Old Fang called back, starting with the restaurant issue.

This call informed Zhang Feng that Boss Long’s restaurant was closed.

It happened on the very day when the rat’s den was cleared; Boss Long suddenly disbanded his staff.

This is definitely suspicious.

Let them run into him.

Also, the next evening.

Zhang Feng arrived at Mountain Province and personally visited the small restaurant.

It was indeed deserted, but the stuff inside was still there.

Then he went into the back alley, climbing in from the second floor.

Zhang Feng looked around and found nothing of value.

’Could it be related to rats? Or rat people?’

’Otherwise, why did he run on the day the rats were cleared?’

This thought suddenly occurred to Zhang Feng.

But after thinking it over.

Zhang Feng quickly dismissed the idea.

Because the prominent figures in this world, though he hadn’t known them long, Zhang Feng knew Boss Long was a maverick.

Always carrying a sort of awkward arrogance.

When offered Martial Arts, he rejected it without a second thought.

As for the Criminal World, talk about going his own way, hating evil fiercely.

Would gut the wicked, and upon seeing rats, would claim he would eat them raw.

Zhang Feng believed it.

...

In the blink of an eye.

Another two years passed.

Another winter arrived, with early snowfall this year.

Before dawn, the morning wind blew like tossing knives, snowflakes swirling.

Forty-year-old Zhang Feng was already embracing his middle-aged thermal cup, shaking snow off outside and plopping into the warm train cab.

Old Zhao arrived even earlier than Zhang Feng, checking the equipment.

"Have you eaten?"

Zhang Feng placed the cup filled with herbal soup, warming his hands,

"If you haven’t, I can ask the young train cop to bring you something; he’s queuing up for tea eggs at the station entrance."

The young train cop was the apprentice who helped catch rats.

"Him bringing? I’d rather not." Old Zhao, fifty-three this year and still quite dapper, clean-shaven with neat hair,

"Last time you asked him to bring some, oh boy, he was in line for egg pancakes, saw a thief, chased him for five kilometers, and didn’t even come back on shift, so the station had to arrange someone else for us.

The train master, you tell me, a train cop should leave external matters to the local brothers.

There’s patrol around, but he won’t say a word, just chases on his own.

Sure, the deed is right, but there’s a whole train waiting for him too."

"That kid sometimes doesn’t know priority and likes doing things on his own." Zhang Feng pulled out his phone, "Come on, have you eaten? If not, I’ll let him bring you a few."

"Alright, two, and get a flaky cake too." Old Zhao chuckled, then suddenly shook his head and said, "Train Master, I see there are many red trains at the station now.

Thanks to you, our train became an air-conditioned train, didn’t get dumped."

He looked out at a red train,

"Nowadays it’s either red or olive green, and our dark green old train is rare.

I don’t know if I can stay on our old buddy before retirement."

"Stop overthinking it." Zhang Feng texted the young cop while taking out a cigarette, tossing one to Old Zhao.

Click, lighting up.

Zhang Feng leaned back comfortably in his seat, speaking to his smoke-cloud-chasing companion:

"Our young cop isn’t really either of our apprentices, yet he’s running errands for us daily, and you keep reporting on him to me.

Your young apprentice, on the other hand, is a peculiar fellow, always prompt.

Arriving ten minutes early seems to be torture for him.

I come this early myself, only to find you busy sweeping up.

Yet you don’t dare say a word to your apprentice, just bully the young cop like he’s a pushover every day."

"Times have changed." Old Zhao chuckled, "It’s been 14 years, what we had back then doesn’t work now.

Apprentices being half slaves, baloney.

Now they’re often college graduates; if you try treating them like slaves, they’ll come back with theories, slap you with an old-era hat, and scare you into falling off your bed shouting long live socialism."

But the young cop, he’s still an honest guy, haha."

"Haha." Zhang Feng was amused by Old Zhao, pointing at him for a few seconds before saying, "Honestly, Old Zhao, since I knew you, I always felt you’re wasted as a driver.

You should really go into comedy, seriously."

"Oh? Train Master thinks so too?" Old Zhao was intrigued, "Let me tell you, Train Master, I actually learned it before..."

Old Zhao was a chatterbox, witty and humorous.

Once he starts, he can’t stop.

"Yes, you truly have the talent." Zhang Feng deliberately let him speak, enjoying it like a live comedy show, really invigorating.

But before Old Zhao could speak for twenty minutes.

Nearly thirty-year-old, mature-looking young cop, also carrying hot eggs, came from the front of the train.

Zhang Feng, sitting by the door, opened it for him and waved,

"Come in and warm up."