"Oh, it's so hot!" Jiang Hai slumped in the shade, adopting a perfect Ge You pose, staring helplessly at the sky.
He had to admit—four seasons a year had their pros and cons. Cold wasn't so bad; his house had underfloor heating, so even in winter he wouldn't freeze. But heat… heat made him completely helpless, his body heavy and unmotivated.
Boston wasn't terrible, being in the north and by the ocean. Compared to the central and southern United States, where summers often exceeded 40°C, it was relatively mild here. The temperature rarely climbed above 30°C, and the ocean helped moderate the heat. Even so, Jiang Hai still felt drained, unwilling to move, despite knowing he could just retreat indoors and turn on the air conditioner.
In the past, he loved air conditioning for its cool relief, though it required closed doors and windows, making it a bit suffocating. But ever since acquiring the Dragon Ball, he had lost interest in artificial cooling. He preferred the natural breeze—though right now, even the breeze was uncomfortably hot.
Wiping sweat from his forehead, he fanned himself with one hand while scrolling through his phone with the other. It had been so hot lately that he hadn't gone out catching Pokémons; besides, with no gyms or supply points nearby, playing was inconvenient.
He opened WeChat. Abroad, it still worked as long as there was internet, and his China Unicom account allowed him to make calls anywhere—albeit a bit pricey, but such a small expense was nothing to Jiang Hai.
A pop-up caught his eye: an autumn scene with two large characters: "Beginning of Autumn." Jiang Hai blinked.
"Beginning of Autumn?" He checked the calendar. Sure enough, today marked the Beginning of Autumn.
The sight instantly brought memories of his parents. Northeasterners loved dumplings and noodles, and almost every festival featured them. Dumplings on the 30th, spring pancakes at the Beginning of Spring, noodles at the Beginning of Summer, and dumplings again at the Beginning of Autumn and Winter. Even ordinary days had their rituals—dumplings before a trip, noodles after arriving. In Northeast China, dumplings weren't just food—they were culture.
Jiang Hai loved dumplings, but opportunities were rare here. Xiaoya knew how to make them, but she was the only one, and with eighteen women under his roof—Qi Jie, Qiya, Feng Yunchen, Ai Xiaoxi, Darlene, Marianne, Aphra, Dinah, Hilda, Becky, Sheila, Oshilia, Bridget, Janice, Wallace Shelley, Galina, Azarina, and Tarak—making hundreds of dumplings was a monumental task. Counting six hundred dumplings for everyone, including himself, Qiya must be exhausted.
Normally, dumplings were out of the question. But seeing the seasonal cue, Jiang Hai suddenly felt the urge.
"Let's go talk to them!" he declared, rolling off his recliner and walking into the room. Qiya and Huali Si Shelley were sitting on the sofa watching TV.
Everyone in the villa had responsibilities. Qiya was head chef, managing the kitchen and overseeing meal preparation. Huali Si Shelley handled information operations; though delicate in appearance, she was a skilled hacker capable of tracing targets through the tiniest clues. For instance, when Valentina tracked Izo and his group, the police failed, but Huali Si Shelley succeeded.
Despite her skills, Valentina continued to pursue her own investigation obsessively. Last week, frustrated by Izo's elusiveness, she even asked Jiang Hai to punish her—but he ended up spanking her twenty times, finding amusement in the process. Azarina, watching nearby, couldn't tell if it was punishment or reward.
Galina and Azarina spent much of their time together; Azarina, a Shenzhou V or VI user, wandered the manor, followed by Galina, who shared her fascination with guns. It wasn't unusual to see the two women tinkering with firearms as they walked.
Aphra and others worked daily in the vineyard or vegetable patch. Darlene, Marianne, and Tarak attended classes, as Tarak's clan leader had requested her education. Though previously taught by the clan leader and his WWII-era comrades, Tarak's knowledge barely reached high school level. Jiang Hai solved this by enrolling her in Winthrop High School, ensuring she attended while still sleeping at the manor.
Meanwhile, Ai Xiaoxi and Feng Yunchen remained busy. Modeling careers had exposed them to wealthy appearances and shopping habits, and now they indulged in purchasing goods for the villa. Americans' mid-tier luxury products were surprisingly expensive back home, so laptops and phones were always in hand. Jiang Hai welcomed this; it kept them engaged and happy.
Seeing Jiang Hai walk in, Qiya and Huali Si Shelley smiled.
"Why aren't you lying down?" they asked.
"Today's the Beginning of Autumn," Jiang Hai said, smiling. "We should eat dumplings!"
"Dumplings are fine, but it's a lot of work," Qiya said, frowning slightly. She couldn't refuse, but the sheer effort made her sigh.
"Shall we help? Just tell us what to do. As a Northeasterner, I can't live without dumplings today!" Jiang Hai said cheerfully. Qiya nodded, realizing she too wanted to taste them.
First, they needed to mix the dough. Qi Ya began preparing a large batch—enough for six to seven hundred dumplings. The dough was left to rise, a small labor considering the feast ahead.
(To be continued.)