On the snack street, blue and red canopies were scattered in a row. Eggplants were served on the grill in foil, and the owner sprinkled a handful of cumin. Under the sizzling oil and fire, they made a crackling sound. Next to them, the charcoal-grilled Pacific saury was turning golden, its fresh aroma wafting everywhere.

A lightbulb hung overhead, with fine dust floating above it, the lighting dim.

Henry Carter brought over a plate of skewers and sat down in front of the man. The two had a bit of alcohol and started chatting idly. Henry Carter handed him a beef skewer, his tone a little cautious: “Boss, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. This time… just treat it as a break.”

Jason Harris was biting into a skewer. Hearing this, he lifted his eyelids and glanced at him, letting out a low chuckle: “What pressure could I possibly have?”

“As long as you don’t, that’s good.” Henry Carter let out a sigh of relief.

Jason Harris sat across from Henry Carter, his feet casually propped on the crossbar under the table. He hadn’t been sitting there long, but already several tables of girls nearby were sneaking glances at him.

Yet he couldn’t even be bothered to lift his eyelids, a cigarette pinched between his fingers, smoke curling upward—handsome in a roguish, indifferent way.

Being with him, Henry Carter could feel the attention coming from all directions, feeling immensely proud. Plus, once he drank, he loved to ramble, and now he couldn’t stop: “Hey, boss, honestly, after all these years flying around the world as a pilot, I never really looked closely, but if you count places with the most beautiful women, it’s still our Jingbei City.”

“Whoa, look at those long legs.” Henry Carter exclaimed.

Jason Harris didn’t even look, just let out a cold laugh: “Keep staring and I’ll tell your girlfriend.”

Henry Carter sheepishly withdrew his gaze, but halfway through, his eyes lit up and he nudged his arm: “Boss, look, there’s a pretty one right across from us—definitely has that southern look.”

At the mention of “southern,” Jason Harris instinctively looked up, his dark eyes sweeping over, then pausing for a moment. The girl indeed had the typical southern features: fair skin, bright almond-shaped eyes, wearing a beige knitted dress with two thin straps, revealing her pale shoulders.

“Tsk, she’s got a boyfriend, but the vibe between them is clearly that they just met—probably a blind date. But both of them have that refined air, they actually match pretty well.” Henry Carter commented.

As Henry Carter spoke, the air around them seemed to turn cold all of a sudden. He felt a bit uneasy, and with a glance, saw his buddy silently snap a handful of bamboo skewers in half with his bare hands, without saying a word.

Samuel Clark didn’t notice the commotion over here. She was walking side by side with Edward Green through the snack street, and just as they were about to reach the end, a few sounds of struggle came from the alley entrance.

It turned out an old lady selling sweet soup was being harassed by a few drunken thugs, who were about to smash her stall, claiming her food was bad. Samuel Clark hadn’t meant to meddle, but the old woman’s desperate pleas sounded just like her own grandmother for a moment.

Samuel Clark was about to walk over when Edward Green grabbed her, his tone shrewd: “You really shouldn’t go over right now. If you get caught up by the thugs or the old lady tries to scam you, you’ll be in trouble.”

“I like being scammed.” Samuel Clark curled her lips into a smile, then looked at Edward Green’s hand holding her. He awkwardly let go.

The old lady was pushed to the ground by the lead thug. Samuel Clark walked over to help her up, her voice calm: “How much? I’ll pay.”

The red-haired thug’s eyes lit up when he saw Samuel Clark. He put both hands on her bare shoulders: “Since little sister is pleading, we’ll let it go—just have a drink with your brother.”

“Don’t… don’t mess around, I’m a lawyer… y-you let go…” Edward Green pushed up his glasses, so nervous he could barely speak.

Seeing that Edward Green was a pushover, a few thugs waved their iron rods and asked, “What, you want to fight?”

Edward Green took a step back, glanced at Samuel Clark, and then gritted his teeth and ran off.

The thug’s hand lingered on Samuel Clark’s shoulder, even rubbing it brazenly. In less than a second, Samuel Clark twisted his wrist back with a “crack.”

“Fuck, you—” The redhead cried out in pain and let go, his face turning dark. He raised his palm, about to slap her, when suddenly, a long, well-defined hand appeared out of nowhere and caught the thug’s fist in midair.

It was Jason Harris.

“I thought it was a woman’s hand—so soft and weak.” Jason Harris’s tone was wild and cocky.

His words were pure provocation. The thug swung with his free hand, but Jason Harris dodged to the side, grabbed the redhead’s arm, and punched him to the ground. The redhead let out a cry of pain.

A brawl broke out as the group closed in.

Samuel Clark crouched down, helped the old lady up, gathered her things, and silently saw her off.

The fight was over as quickly as it started. Jason Harris, one against four, sent the thugs fleeing in panic. He stood under the streetlamp, his long shadow stretching out in front of her.

Only then did Samuel Clark look up and study him carefully.

Jason Harris was wearing a flight jacket with four stripes on the shoulder, his head and neck straight and imposing, single eyelids, hair cropped very short, his profile sharp and defined. There was a fresh red scratch on his chin, and his dark, piercing eyes were fixed on her.

Being stared at by Jason Harris, Samuel Clark’s heart suddenly tightened, and she instinctively took a step back. At that moment, a cool breeze blew by, and the leaves and garbage bags by the roadside were swept up into the air, swaying unsteadily.