The Cookie Jar Chinese Restaurant.

Two cars, one after the other, pulled into the parking lot. Feng Shan pushed open his door and got out.

This was his first time eating Chinese food since coming to Alaska.

On the other side of the parking lot, the restaurant was a classical Chinese-style building. The plaque above its entrance bore the name "Lin Garden" in large, gilded characters.

"This Chinese place is pretty good for Fairbanks," Frank said, walking over with a briefcase in hand.

Tom, head hung low, continued his act of utter subservience, while Feng Shan hid to the side, stifling a laugh.

’It really was just as Ga said,’ he thought, ’"Dance all you want now, but a day of reckoning is coming."’

A while back, when Frank, suffering from... overindulgence, had run to the Crown Territory for his life, Tom had mocked him relentlessly. The more arrogant his laughter was then, the more pathetic he looked now.

Upon entering the restaurant, Lin Garden, the first thing that greeted the eye was an antique-style screen, in front of which sat a decorative rockery.

Past the screen, the spacious main hall was filled with neat and orderly rows of carved, solid-wood tables and chairs. Many customers were already dining, and the unique aroma of Chinese cuisine hung in the air.

A young Chinese man approached with a smile. "Mr. Frank, your table is ready. Please, follow me."

Frank nodded.

The young man led the three of them to a semi-private booth by the window. The high backs of the bench seats shielded them from the gazes of the other diners in the main hall and blocked out the noise.

The table was covered with a red tablecloth embroidered with auspicious patterns.

Once the three were seated, the young Chinese man placed a menu on the table. "Here’s the menu."

Feng Shan picked up the menu, and his brow furrowed when he saw the names of the dishes and their prices.

A single bowl of Zhajiangmian was $20.95, and a bowl of tomato and egg gravy noodles was $22.95. The other dishes were even more expensive.

’The cost of living in Alaska really is high,’ Feng Shan thought. ’Back home, this much money could pay for several meals.’

"My friend, it’s my treat today. Order whatever you want!" Frank said, waving his hand generously.

"In that case, I won’t hold back," Feng Shan said, pointing at the menu. "Let’s get the pan-fried frogfish, kung pao squid, salt and pepper shrimp, fish fillets in hot chili oil, braised beef, spicy fried Emperor Crab, a seafood and tofu hot pot, one order of Zhajiangmian, and one order of Yangzhou fried rice."

The young Chinese man quickly jotted down the dishes, then suddenly snapped his head up, looking at Feng Shan in surprise.

’If I heard him correctly,’ he thought, ’that man was speaking Mandarin.’

The clear, standard pronunciation made a flash of delight appear in the young man’s eyes, and a warm smile spread across his face.

"Brother, so you’re from back home! It’s not easy to run into one of our own in this neck of the woods. We’ll have to have a drink later."

"And look at how you’re dressed! I thought you were a native who’d just crawled out of the Tundra. So, Brother, are you here visiting or did you move here?"

Faced with such an enthusiastic countryman, Feng Shan felt it would be rude to refuse him. "Moved here."

"Damn, that’s awesome!" The young Chinese man gave a thumbs-up, then casually pulled up a chair next to Feng Shan and started pouring out his troubles.

"Brother, you have no idea. Back in China, I heard you could make a fortune catching crabs in Alaska, so my whole family scraped together over two hundred thousand yuan for me to come here to work."

"Only after I got here did I find out they don’t even hire Chinese people. That son-of-a-bitch labor agency didn’t care. They took the money and just dumped me in Fairbanks to fend for myself. I slept on the streets for days. If I hadn’t been used to the cold back home, I probably would’ve frozen to death."

"Later, I got lucky and ran into Lin. He took pity on me and gave me a job at the restaurant."

"Oh, right, I haven’t even asked what business you’re in here in Fairbanks, Brother."

Sitting to the side, Frank couldn’t take it anymore. They’d been here for a while, just listening to this one guy ramble on. ’Are we going to eat or not?’ He let out a few pointed coughs.

"Young man, we should be getting our food."

The young Chinese man finally snapped out of it and quickly stood up to apologize. "Oh, sorry about that! I just got excited seeing someone from back home. I’ll go rush the kitchen and get your food out first. I’ll come back later to have a couple of drinks with you, Brother."

With that, he grabbed the menu and left.

Thanks to the interruption from the enthusiastic countryman, much of the awkward atmosphere among the three of them had dissipated.

Frank picked up his briefcase, opened it, and took out a bulging manila envelope, which he handed to Feng Shan.

"I was originally planning to give you a pleasant surprise, but it almost turned into a scare. This is a gift for you."

A gift!

Feng Shan curiously took the manila envelope. He opened it and pulled out a clear plastic bag containing a metal plate about the size of a pack of cigarettes, a leather wallet, and a blue booklet.

He tore open the plastic bag and took out the metal plate. It was shaped like a shield, with the image of a golden brown bear with its arms spread wide.

Within the bear’s embrace was an embossed carving of a snow-capped mountain, a lake, and a forest. At the very bottom was a nameplate engraved with the words "Crown Ridge."

’Is this a police badge?’ Feng Shan wondered.

Feng Shan looked at Frank, who lifted a finger and pointed at the booklet, gesturing for him to keep looking. Feng Shan had no choice but to pick up the booklet again.

It was a small, blue, rectangular booklet. On the cover was an engraving of the metal shield, and above the shield, a white ribbon was inscribed with the words "Crown Land Chief."

He opened it. Inside was a photo of himself.

Below it were the words: Crown Territory Sheriff’s Office, Sheriff Feng Shan.

"So? What do you think? I had someone work overnight to make it. Not bad, right?" Frank said, now smiling. He took the badge, clipped it onto the booklet, and tossed it to Feng Shan. "Having the status of a Sheriff will save you a lot of trouble in the future."

"Do I really have to be a Sheriff?" Feng Shan asked, his face twisting into a pained expression.

Frank’s smile gradually faded, replaced by a serious expression. "Feng, the United States isn’t like China. Did you really think getting government recognition means you can rest easy?"

"You’re wrong. The most shameless entity in the entire world is the Free United States of America. When it decides it doesn’t need its reputation, it will act without any shame."

"That document is just a fig leaf. If the United States really wants the Crown Territory, it won’t care about saving face. Lying, cheating, plundering, robbing—is there anything it hasn’t done?"