35: Chapter 35: Taking my sister to eat at a roadside stall, surrounded by three circles of plainclothes officers.

The food street behind Tianhai High School was at its liveliest, thick with the scent of everyday life.

Teppanyaki sizzled, the smell of stinky tofu drifted for a mile, and the place was packed with chattering students in school uniforms.

Jiang Chen parked his eye-catching Hongqi H9 two streets away, put on a baseball cap, and led Jiang Qianqian through a maze of turns before ducking into a hole-in-the-wall eatery named "Old Liu's Spicy Hot Pot."

"Brother, you're a big boss driving a luxury car now. Isn't it beneath you to come eat at a street stall like this with me?"

Jiang Qianqian wore a baggy blue-and-white school uniform, her ponytail swaying with every movement. Although she was complaining, she kept a tight grip on Jiang Chen's sleeve, terrified that if she let go, this brother she had regained would vanish.

"Beneath me? This is called staying true to one's roots."

Jiang Chen ruffled her hair and pulled over two plastic stools. "Sit. Boss, two bowls of mild spicy, extra vinegar, light on the green onions!"

"Coming right up!"

The owner, Old Liu, was a balding middle-aged man, currently waving a large ladle as he stirred the soup pot.

Everything looked normal.

But the moment Jiang Chen sat down, his genetically enhanced eyes swept across his surroundings, and the corner of his mouth couldn't help but twitch.

Did that old fox, General Qin Weiguo, have some kind of misunderstanding about the word "plainclothes"?

This wasn't secret protection. This was clearly dragging an entire special operations company here for a team-building exercise!

Look at the guy selling grilled sausages at the table on the left.

It was a hot day, yet he was wearing a heavy jacket. His right hand remained buried in his pocket, and his left hand moved so stiffly while flipping the sausages that it looked like he was defusing a bomb. Even more absurd were the thick calluses on the web of his thumb—those were worn down from years of gripping a gun, not a skewer!

And look at the old sanitation worker sweeping the floor on the right.

His gaze was sharp as an eagle's, and the frequency of his sweeping was like a radar scan; he looked up to observe three different directions with every stroke. Plus, that broom handle... no matter how you looked at it, it resembled some kind of modified tactical baton.

And the table behind us.

Three shirtless "tough guys" with tattooed arms sat there, their waists bulging suspiciously. They had three bottles of beer on their table, but they hadn't taken a single sip in ten minutes. Instead, their six eyes were locked onto every living thing that attempted to come within five meters of Jiang Chen, just like infrared targeting systems.

Even a stray dog passing by had been glared at with such murderous intent by one of the men that it tucked its tail and ran.

"This meal is... incredibly stressful."

Jiang Chen sighed inwardly and helplessly picked up the disposable chopsticks to snap them apart.

He could understand General Qin Weiguo's nervousness.

After all, he was now not only a "human Lithography Machine" but also a "Galactic Empire prince." If he got a stomach ache from street food or got bumped into by some clueless street punk, it would be a major security incident.

But while he understood, the atmosphere was just too bizarre.

The entire food stall, originally bustling with life, was now as quiet as a funeral parlor.

Except for Jiang Chen's table, the surrounding tables were all "his own people." Everyone sat bolt upright, not even speaking, only occasionally using eye contact to coordinate tactical positioning.

"Brother..."

Jiang Qianqian finally sensed that something was wrong.

She shrank back, holding the bowl of Spicy Hot Pot that had just been served, but didn't dare to take a bite. Her large eyes scanned the surroundings vigilantly, her voice lowered to a whisper, trembling with a hint of fear:

"Don't you think... it's a bit cold here today?"

"And these people around us are so weird."

She pointed at the man selling sausages. "That uncle selling sausages—when a student went to buy one earlier, he actually made them show their ID... and register their home address."

Jiang Chen nearly choked on his own spit.

Checking residency records just to buy a sausage? You guys must be in the terminal stage of occupational disease!

"Ahem, maybe... that's a new regulation. Real-name registration for sausages."

Jiang Chen forced an explanation, picked up a fish ball, and stuffed it into his sister's mouth. "Don't worry about it. Eat quickly; it won't taste good if it gets cold."

Jiang Qianqian chewed the fish ball, but her eyes remained full of suspicion.

Although she was young, she wasn't stupid.

The feeling of being stared at by dozens of eyes made her hair stand on end. Especially that old man sweeping the floor; he had already swept around their table for the eighth time, and his eyes kept darting to her brother's neck and chest, as if checking for the position of a bulletproof vest.

"Brother, let's just pack this up and eat at home."

Jiang Qianqian put down her chopsticks, her little face pale. "I have a feeling... this place is about to have one of those shootouts from an action movie. Look at that tattooed guy; his hand keeps touching his waist. Is he hiding a gun?"

Jiang Chen was about to offer some comfort.

Suddenly, "Clang!" A crisp sound of metal hitting the ground shattered the suffocating silence.

It was the old man who had been sweeping nearby.

As he passed the boss's stove, his broom accidentally knocked against a gas canister. Perhaps the broom was of exceptionally high quality, or maybe what was hidden inside was too heavy.

One end of the broom head actually split open.

A pitch-black, sharp tactical dagger, emitting a chilling glint, dropped out with a "thud" and stuck straight into the ground beside Old Liu's feet, embedding itself deep into the wood.

It was a military-grade triangular bayonet; the blood groove alone was enough to make one shudder.

The air instantly froze.

Old Liu, who was scooping up glass noodles, froze with his strainer in mid-air.

He looked down at the lethal weapon just a centimeter away from his toes, then looked up at the "sanitation worker" who calmly picked up the dagger and nonchalantly shoved it back into the broom.

Old Liu's legs began to cramp uncontrollably.

In his life, he had seen sweeping result in dust, money, or even dog poop. But sweeping up a military bayonet?!

Was this old man a retired special forces soldier looking for a second career?

"G-Grandpa..."

Old Liu's voice trembled. As he served the freshly cooked bowl of Spicy Hot Pot to Jiang Chen, he spilled more than half of the broth, burning his own hand, yet he didn't dare to cry out.

He looked at everyone in the shop with the eyes one might use for terrorists, finally letting his gaze rest on Jiang Chen, who was still calmly eating his wide noodles.

Who on earth was this young man? Did he bring a group of hitmen to take over the place?

"Boss, steady your hand."

Jiang Chen took the bowl, glanced at the sweeping agent who was pretending nothing had happened, and shook his head helplessly.

He turned his head to look at Jiang Qianqian, who was too scared to move her chopsticks opposite him, and knew in his heart that this misunderstanding had become huge.

With this lineup, this atmosphere, and his previously accumulated, highly suspicious vast wealth.

In the little girl's eyes, this wasn't security at all. It was clearly the entourage of a mafia boss!

Sure enough, Jiang Qianqian gripped Jiang Chen's hand tightly, her eyes instantly turning red.

"Brother!" She lowered her voice, her tone filled with earth-shattering despair and panic. "Tell me the truth! Where did you get so much money? And these people... are they protecting you? Brother, did you... start drug trafficking?!"