Interstellar to 80s: A Scientist's Farming Mission

East City Street, Green Land.

This address again.

"An Ning is the pillar of our machinery factory. To be more precise, our factory relies on An Ning. I hope you understand that."

Factory Director Zhang, the son of the old Level 8 Technician Zhang Qihua, was once again stressing An Ning’s importance.

The only reason he’d come was to save An Ning some trouble.

Factory directors like him all knew of the Du Brothers’ existence.

But they also knew the world wasn’t just black and white.

What the Du Brothers did might not have been savory, but they did prevent a lot of other, worse things from happening.

So, they had their value.

Hearing An Ning’s name again, the Du Brothers’ hearts went cold.

After seeing Factory Director Zhang off, Du said to Du San, "Prepare a gift of 888 for tomorrow."

"Got it, big brother."

Du San agreed without a single complaint. As for his earlier resentment and thoughts of revenge, they had long since vanished into thin air.

In their line of work, the most important thing was knowing when to back down.

The two brothers sat on a bench and began to retrace their encounter with An Ning from earlier that day, checking for any missteps.

Fortunately, they had taken a beating and been given joss paper, but they hadn’t said what they would do tomorrow. There was still a chance to salvage the situation.

After reviewing the chain of events, the two brothers felt much calmer.

"Here, have some water—"

"Big brother—"

That cry of "big brother" made Du spill some water from the teapot in his hand.

This time, the underling didn’t shout. Instead, he leaned in close to Du’s ear and reported in a low voice.

CRASH!

The teapot fell right onto the table. Du had no time to deal with it. He stood up and said to Du San behind him, "Clean this up. I’m stepping out for a moment."

Du ran out.

Du San obediently started cleaning up the spilled tea, but the more he wiped, the colder his heart grew. He had a terrible premonition.

’Is 888 not enough?’

Du was gone for less than two minutes.

Du San watched Du return with his head lowered and asked, "East City Street? Green Land? An Ning?"

To each question, Du gave a firm nod.

Du sat down in a chair and said to Du San, "Make it four eights."

"Four?"

Du San glanced at the doorway, then pointed a single finger to the sky.

Across from him, Du nodded, confirming Du San’s suspicion.

The cleaning rag in Du San’s hand fell limply. "Is four eights enough?" he asked.

Before Du could even let out a breath, the messenger underling appeared at the door again.

Du shot to his feet and kicked the underling.

"I never want to see you again, damn it!"

"Speak!"

Another whispered message. Du felt the world spin. He dizzily grabbed the nearby underling, and then—SMACK!—slapped his own face.

Seeing such a reaction, Du San plopped right down onto the floor. ’Four eights probably isn’t enough either,’ he thought.

Sure enough, when Du returned this time, all the spirit had drained out of him.

"San’er, let’s tally up our assets. After we deliver the gift, let’s just disband."

"Big brother?"

Du raised a hand and shook his head at Du San.

"San’er, if we disband, at least we’ll live. A man has to know when he’s had enough."

Du San powerlessly closed his eyes and nodded. "I understand, big brother."

Across from him, Du, perhaps taking it more in stride, suddenly laughed. "It’s for the best. This line of work isn’t a long-term thing anyway."

"I’m telling you, I don’t even have the guts to tell your nephew what I do for a living."

Du was suddenly overcome with emotion. As if letting out his last breath, he gave up the struggle.

"This is good. It’s all good. Let’s just leave it at that."

Hearing Du’s words, Du San also felt a wave of emotion.

"Yeah, it was never going to last. But if we don’t do this, what can we do?"

"All those guys are counting on us."

Du San’s words made Du look toward the door.

The hardest part was the brothers. As bosses, they could retire with a decent amount of money, but what about their men?

For a moment, both men were at a loss.

"Let’s just get over this hurdle first. If we don’t, we won’t have to worry about anything at all."

Du let out a self-deprecating laugh, met Du San’s gaze, and nodded firmly.

"It’s serious. Everyone is coming to pass on messages, all because of this An Ning."

"Even the top brass are just messengers. There are even bigger players behind them. An Ning is not to be provoked, not to be touched."

Hearing this, Du San realized the situation was even more dire and serious than he had imagined.

"Big brother, how are we delivering the gift tomorrow? Should we switch up who delivers it? Our guys... aren’t exactly lookers."

After Du San spoke, Du thought about it and realized he was right.

"San’er, go get the good-looking guys. Don’t bring any of the ugly mugs. We don’t want to scare her."

Scare her?

Du San stood up. "Scaring her seems pretty unlikely."

Regardless, Du San still went out and, after a round of selection, brought back their best-looking men.

When a line of burly, barrel-chested men—all either bald or balding—stood before the two of them...

For the first time, Du felt that the general attractiveness of his crew was truly low.

"San’er, aren’t there any better-looking guys?"

"Big brother, a few clean-cut guys showed up a couple of days ago, but didn’t you say they weren’t scary-looking enough for our line of work?"

"Sigh—"

Du let out a long sigh, pointed at the men before him, and said, "If these guys deliver the gift, I’d suspect their intentions too."

"No, this won’t do. Keep looking. If we really can’t find anyone, get a relative to fill in. We need someone with a clean-cut look, non-threatening, the kind of face that just screams ’good guy’."

After Du finished speaking, one of the big thugs across from him timidly raised his hand. His cautious manner was actually somewhat endearing.

"Speak."

"Big brother, I know a guy who kinda fits the bill."

The thug spoke, Du San made some inquiries, and the underling was brought over.

But when Du saw him, he asked incredulously, "This is who you call good-looking?"

The thug who’d been questioned immediately nodded. "Boss, he cleans up real nice. His hair’s just a bit long."

Hearing this, Du immediately called someone over to give him a haircut.

The underling who’d been dragged in was baffled from the moment he arrived to the moment they started cutting his hair. He had no idea what was going on.

Once his mop of shaggy hair was shaved into a buzz cut, a handsome young man emerged.

"Not bad, not bad at all. Perfect."

Du was very pleased.

The underling who got the haircut covered his face with one hand and said fearfully, "B-Big brother, I’m not good-looking. I’ll go give myself a scar right away."

"Put your hand down! Don’t you dare damage that face."

Du shouted, and the underling obediently lowered his hand, looking at Du in confusion.

’What’s going on? Don’t they hate guys who look like me around here?’

’They just chased a few guys away for the same reason a couple days ago.’

Du stepped forward, and a terrifying hand reached out to touch the underling’s face.

Every hair on the underling’s body stood at attention. He heard his revered big brother say, "What a fine... ’peace is a blessing’ face."