"Hey, Jiang, you're finally here."
As Jiang Hai approached, Old George and Selsey were the first to stand and greet him warmly. The others also rose immediately, including some of the white-haired elders.
This clearly showed just how respected Jiang Hai was in town.
"Come on, sit down, don't be so formal," Jiang Hai smiled, returning their greetings before inviting everyone to take their seats. Old George's wife had already prepared a chair next to her, and she handed another to Jiang Hai, welcoming him to join the group. Jiang Hai felt a bit flattered by the gesture.
"Jiang, let me introduce everyone to you," Old George said with a smile once everyone was seated.
Since Jiang Hai was new here, he didn't know most of the others very well, except for Selsey.
"This is Hodge Selsey — you probably know him. He's sold us a lot of your parts," Old George chuckled. "And this is Cotton Harris, also a rancher. His Straw Hat Flower Ranch lies just east of you."
Jiang Hai shook hands with Cotton Harris, a somewhat old-fashioned-looking white man in his fifties. Harris didn't often smile, but he forced a polite one when shaking Jiang Hai's hand. It was barely more than a grimace, but it still counted as kindness.
Before Jiang Hai arrived, Harris owned the largest ranch in the area. Of course, "largest" was relative here — his 2,700-acre ranch was tiny compared to the vast ranches out west in Texas or Montana. Jiang Hai's own ranch was 9,200 acres, much bigger by comparison. Still, Harris's operation was a big deal locally, with around 10,000 cattle under his care.
However, most of Harris's cattle ate feed rather than grazing, because there simply wasn't enough grass.
"This is Thackery Eddy, also a rancher," Old George continued, introducing the next man. Eddy's ranch was much smaller — just 200 acres. He raised only a few beef cattle for personal use but focused mainly on dairy cows, about 500 in total, making him the town's largest milk supplier.
"Here's Carey Clark," Old George added, introducing another white man. Clark's ranch was farther away and smaller, only about 150 acres. He raised fewer cattle but had many sheep and grew a variety of vegetables. Since vegetables often sold for more than meat in the U.S., it made sense.
After the three white ranchers, Old George introduced three more people: two black men and one white man.
One of the black men was Jay Matthew, who ran a horse farm and was considered Old George's protégé. He had worked for Old George before starting his own place, though he still came back often to buy horses. Matthew mainly sold horses to areas outside Winthrop — after all, this was Old George's turf.
The other black man was Jermaine Ronald, a cheerful, stocky used-car dealer. Jiang Hai didn't have a need for used cars given his wealth, but his own car was worn out, so Jermaine saw potential business there.
The last white man was Bass Bono, owner of the town's dairy factory. He processed milk from farmers like Thackery Eddy and sold it locally and as far as Boston. Before Jiang Hai started raising dairy cows himself, he had bought milk from Bono — it was high quality, though not quite as good as what his cows produced now, since his herd ate more than just grass.
Once introductions were done, everyone settled back into their seats, and Old George resumed the conversation he had started earlier. Jiang Hai listened but found it hard to stay engaged after a few minutes. Most of the discussion was about policies that affected the locals, but had little relevance to him.
They talked about small price drops in ordinary beef, rising costs for feed and seeds, and cursed Wall Street speculators. They lamented that getting ranch loans had become much harder — once they could borrow $50,000 or $100,000 with ease, but now even $10,000 was a struggle.
They were even considering protesting in front of the Boston Town Government to put pressure on officials.
But none of this concerned Jiang Hai. He didn't buy feed because his grassland was vast and abundant. He didn't worry about beef prices — his beef was in such demand no one dared lower prices for him. He didn't need subsidies; the only benefits he got were tax breaks. And loans? He had no need for them.
After about half an hour, Jiang Hai excused himself to use the restroom, resisting the urge to doze off.
Outside the horse farm house, he sighed and grabbed another bottle of Coke. Finding a quiet corner, he sat down and watched the bustling scene, sipping the soda.
"Hi, handsome, can I join you?" a girl's voice broke his thoughts.
Jiang Hai looked up to see a young woman holding a beer bottle, smiling warmly. She looked like a college student, about twenty, white, with brown hair and a curvy figure. Still young, her body was not yet fully controlled, but she radiated youthful energy.
Her large brown eyes met his, and Jiang Hai smiled back.
"Of course," he said, standing to shake her hand.
"My name's Kelly — Kelly Soren. I know you, owner of Tamron Manor," she said as they shook hands.
Jiang Hai smiled, "Wow, I must be quite famous." He took a sip of his Coke.
"Of course, you hold the lifeline of Winthrop, haha," Kelly laughed, clearly impressed by Jiang Hai's reputation — especially after his recent speech.
"Are you from Winthrop too?" Jiang Hai asked, not wanting to make things awkward but knowing it was important to connect with the townsfolk.
"Definitely. My family's lived here for decades — since my grandfather's time," Kelly said with a smile.
"That's a long time. You don't look old, so you must still be in college?" Jiang Hai admired her youthful spirit.
"Yes, I'm a senior at Boston University, majoring in Marine Engineering. I'm working on my graduation thesis. I've finished all my credits, so the thesis isn't too hard — but finding a job is another story," Kelly said with a helpless shrug.
Jiang Hai smiled knowingly, not sure what to say. He wasn't about to help her find a job — not unless it was free.
"I heard you don't usually come to these gatherings. Why join today?" Kelly teased, sensing his hesitation.
"The mayor said I should get out more, mingle with the townspeople, and integrate," Jiang Hai replied with a helpless shrug. It was good advice, but the reality was more complicated.
"Americans love their parties. It's a great way to connect. But besides parties, you need to really get along with people," Kelly said thoughtfully.
"Get along?" Jiang Hai was puzzled. How exactly was he supposed to do that? He didn't know anyone here.
"The easiest places to make friends are in military camps or schools," Kelly explained. "You're neither a soldier nor a student, but the peacetime battlefield is the sports arena. Do you play any sports?"
Jiang Hai nodded. "I can play basketball." He was pretty good once — even beat professional players.
"Basketball might work, but I'm not sure. Baseball and football are the top sports for making friends here," Kelly said, running a hand through her hair. Basketball was somewhat of a secondary sport in the U.S.
The problem was, Jiang Hai didn't know how to play baseball or football — that could be an issue…
(To be continued.)