Chapter 65: Daily Life 5

Zhuo Ning was driving, and Ao Xi was navigating, directing him to North El Monte. This area wasn't far from San Gabriel Mountain; the hilly terrain was beginning to show, but the scenery was much better than in the south.

The good neighborhoods here had houses priced high, and the environment was excellent. As they drove by, Ao Xi spotted an upscale community where every house and road had clearly been professionally designed, reminiscent of a spiked club—one main road branching into several smaller ones, each about six meters wide. The houses varied in appearance and were arranged at different elevations to ensure ample independent space; it would be very comfortable to live here.

The community where Wally lived, however, was an ordinary one and couldn't compare. On a not-so-large piece of land, over a hundred detached houses had been crammed in, with no design to speak of. All the houses looked exactly the same, forcing homeowners to paint their houses in different colors, lest they couldn't find their own home upon returning.

In such neighborhoods, you could hear the neighbors' quarrels with absolute clarity at night, but even this was better than the impoverished areas, where the distance between houses was so minimal that even a fart would be smelled next door.

Luckily, the road layout had been done decently; every household had an access road and wouldn’t get stuck inside.

Wally’s house was at the end of the community’s road, with a large circle for vehicles to turn around. The surrounding space of his house was significantly larger, indicating he’d paid extra for it.

Behind the house was a small hill covered in trees, essentially an additional garden—a great place for walks and for children to play.

Wally stood in front of the house with his wife and children, welcoming them.

Ao Xi quickly got out and hugged him. “Sorry, Wally, I almost forgot about tonight’s gathering.”

“No worries, you’re here now. Let me introduce—this is my wife Jenny. Ao Xi, my good colleague.”

“Hello, Jenny. You are truly beautiful.”

It wasn’t mere politeness; Jenny was a blonde beauty, and even by Ao Xi’s standards, she was lovely. He wondered how Wally managed to marry her.

“Thank you, Ao Xi. You’re quite handsome yourself.”

Ao Xi turned to Wally. “Your wife is very charming.”

Wally’s face filled with pride. “Of course.”

It was said Americans liked compliments about their wives' charm, as it reflected well on themselves—though the specifics were unclear.

“Let me introduce, this is my girlfriend Zhuo Ning.”

Zhuo Ning shook hands with Wally. “Nice to meet you. Here’s a small gift for you.”

Wally took it, unwrapped the package, and laughed. “Wine from Sif Winery—I really like it. Thank you, Zhuo Ning.”

Zhuo Ning handed out gifts for Jenny and the children as well; the kids cheered and ran off with theirs.

Jenny was delighted, pulling Zhuo Ning aside to try out lipstick shades.

Wally led Ao Xi inside. Wally’s home was a classic wooden detached house. The great thing about wooden houses was that their usable area matched their exterior, unlike concrete homes where walls ate up square footage.

If the functional areas were well planned from the start and the interior tastefully decorated, living here would be quite comfortable. Of course, that depended on having money; without it, one would have to make do—people adapt to houses, not the other way around.

His house was pretty good; while not perfectly logical, there were no absurdities like a boundless living room requiring extra walls, or a bathroom next to the kitchen—a notorious design.

Naturally, there were downsides: poor resistance to earthquakes, fire, and strong winds, easily damaged by gunfire. The upside was the cost—wooden houses built quickly, with brick homes being prohibitively expensive for ordinary folk. Only the estates of the wealthy were concrete.

Passing through the living room into the backyard, they saw Rick and Antrim lounging at the dining table, sipping cola. Mark and his girlfriend Jessica were grilling meat.

Because the backyard was a forest, they couldn’t use wood for fear of fire and had to rely on propane. The two busied themselves around the grill.

Mostly Jessica was hard at work, while Mark sweated profusely. He was truly worried Jessica might mess up—the disastrous durian banquet was still vivid in memory.

Ao Xi greeted Rick and Antrim, set the Luzhou Laojiao on the table, and took a sip of cola Rick handed him. “Why’d you all arrive so quickly? Why aren’t you drinking beer?”

“The calm before the storm. The shift schedule’s been changed to night duty, so we’re here to rest a bit,” Rick shrugged and smiled.

“Is there an operation tonight?”

“Seems they’ve found several suspects from last night’s music warehouse incident. We’re to go arrest them, so most personnel have been reassigned to support night patrols.”

“That was quick.”

Antrim curiously picked up the Luzhou Laojiao. “Ao Xi, is this Chinese liquor?”

Ao Xi’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, fine Chinese liquor. Expensive but smooth—won’t give you a hangover. Want some?”

“Can’t do. I have night duty as well.”

A pity—the Luzhou Laojiao would remain unopened.

Ao Xi called over to Mark. “Keep it up tonight—double overtime pay!”

Mark responded by raising his middle finger.

The two fussed with the grill for ages without producing a single piece of cooked meat, until Wally took over as chef and everyone finally got some barbecue.

Wally had prepared plenty of food: grilled lamb ribs, pork ribs, large skewers of beef cubes, heaps of chicken legs and wings, and the inevitable ‘national dishes’—burgers and hot dogs.

He claimed he was a Texan who’d come to California for love, and so he had a knack for barbecue—Texas cowboys, after all, ate wherever their cattle grazed, and moved on when the beef ran out.

Whether or not he was boasting, his barbecue skills were impressive: crispy outside, tender within, delicious—perhaps due to the fresh ingredients.

After eating and drinking, the women chatted about family and TV dramas, while the men seized their last moments of rest to talk.

“Mark, you still have to work overtime tonight? Aren’t you afraid of dropping dead?”

Mark shook his head. “Not anymore. Administration won’t allow it—they say I’ve exceeded my hours this week. They just can’t stand officers making too much money.”

“You’re not even married—what do you need all that money for?”

“Not telling you.”

“Wally, your house is pretty nice. How much did it cost?”

“Less than eight hundred thousand bucks.”

“You’re that wealthy?”

“Mortgage, but it’s almost paid off. I’ve been a cop for eleven years—made some money.”

Antrim sighed. “I really envy you.”

Wally patted his shoulder. “It’ll get better, brother.”

Ao Xi nudged Mark, asking what was up.

Mark quietly explained that Antrim used to be a sergeant. A few years back, when marijuana was legalized in California, he and some others pooled money to start a marijuana farm. They leased land, built greenhouses, but needed permits.

The permit requirements were so strict they couldn’t get one. Hoping to get away with it, they secretly planted anyway. Just as the marijuana matured and was ready for sale, the LAPD raided and confiscated everything.

The group lost everything, ending up deeply in debt. Antrim, being just an investor, wasn’t prosecuted, but he lost his sergeant rank and became a regular officer.

Things had gotten a bit better recently—he’d saved some money working night shifts and invested in a Lehman Brothers fund, which was reportedly yielding good returns.

No wonder Antrim seemed gloomy—he still hadn’t gotten over it.

Ao Xi quickly changed the subject. “Rick, haven’t you found a girlfriend yet? You’re not getting any younger—better hurry.”

Rick couldn’t help rolling his eyes, just as several gunshots suddenly rang out in the distance.