Over the next two days, helicopters continuously delivered the purchased fruit trees to Crown Camp.

Everyone in the camp dropped what they were doing and threw themselves into planting the trees.

They all worked together, digging holes, planting the trees, filling the soil, and watering them, as busy as bees.

This time, Tom had bought nearly 3,000 mature fruit trees in one go, and the cost had exceeded the initial budget.

But Feng Shan didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Some things were better left unsaid.

Surviving in the Far North was already hard enough, and everyone was striving for a better life.

While Tom’s actions might not have been entirely by the book, from another perspective, he had indeed put a lot of effort into procuring and transporting the fruit trees.

Feng Shan understood that in this world, nothing was absolutely fair or perfect. Sometimes, a little tolerance and understanding were necessary.

’He’d been running around handling everything; he can’t be expected to do it for free.’

’He deserves to earn what he earns. As long as the job gets done, that’s all that matters. People work harder when they’re paid for it.’

After the first batch of fruit trees was planted, buds appeared on the branches, and some trees even sprouted tender new shoots.

Those specks of tender green seemed especially precious in the Far North, like a miracle bestowed by nature.

With the addition of these leafy fruit trees, the once-empty camp seemed to be injected with new life.

Even the Tundra outside the camp seemed less desolate because of the trees’ presence.

"Feng, have you seen my cousin?" Xu Hongxin asked, appearing at the tree-planting site dressed in a set of animal-hide winter clothes.

Feng Shan put down his shovel and turned to look her up and down.

"Haven’t seen him. He and Su Ziweng ran off somewhere."

"Hmph. Crown Camp isn’t that big. Where could those two have gone?" Xu Hongxin scrunched up her nose and kicked at the moss under her feet. "He dared to insult me. He’s so dead."

With that, she turned and left, continuing her game of cat and mouse.

’A bunch of kids.’ Feng Shan shook his head and went back to planting trees with his shovel.

"Khilla, this is the last grove of fruit trees," David said, holding a flashlight in one hand and a blueprint in the other.

The trees weren’t being planted randomly; David had carefully designed the layout according to the camp’s terrain.

"Just wait. It’ll be a beautiful sight when they blossom," Feng Shan said, handing the shovel to Yves. "Also, plan out the paths. Same as always: pave them and install lights. If we don’t have enough power, we’ll add another generator station."

Just then, Jenny’s voice came through the walkie-talkie hanging around his neck.

"Khilla, Khilla, the dishes are ready at the restaurant. Please come over for a tasting."

The tour group was scheduled to arrive in Fairbanks tomorrow.

The camp was so busy it felt like it was about to take off.

The log cabins needed to be cleaned, and the toiletries and quilts all had to be replaced with new ones.

The restaurant had to prepare meals, and the food needed to suit the tastes of the Chinese guests.

The bar was stocking up on all kinds of drinks.

Then there were the issues of tourist itineraries and so on.

Feng Shan shrugged helplessly, rode a snowmobile back to the main camp area, and had just gotten off when Erica came bouncing over and grabbed his arm.

"Khilla, I’ve contacted Kivalina Village and Point Laya Village. And Bruce from Kaktovik Town said he needs to discuss the tour schedule with you."

"Okay, okay, I’ll contact Bruce later!" Feng Shan felt like his head was about to explode. He wished he could split himself into several people.

He walked into the restaurant.

A dozen or so dishes were already laid out on the long dining table, just waiting for him to taste them.

The restaurant was filled with the aroma of various foods, whetting one’s appetite.

The meticulously prepared dishes were colorful and exquisitely plated, looking like works of art.

"Khilla, these are a few new dishes I tried making based on Feng Jun’s suggestions. I’m not sure if they’re suitable," Jenny said, wearing an apron. She handed him a pair of chopsticks, her eyes full of anticipation for his verdict.

He took the chopsticks.

Feng Shan reached for the first dish in front of him.

It looked like a stir-fry of tomato chunks and chicken pieces.

He picked up a piece of what looked like chicken and put it in his mouth. Instantly, a sickeningly sweet taste filled his mouth.

The intense sweetness seemed to assault his taste buds, making Feng Shan frown slightly.

Feng Shan fought the urge to spit it out, trying to discern any other characteristics of the dish, but the sweetness was just too overpowering, masking all other flavors.

"What is this dish?"

"Tomato Chicken. I modified sweet and sour chicken by using ketchup instead of vinegar," Jenny answered confidently.

However, Feng Shan was left speechless by the sickeningly sweet flavor.

Americans love sweet things; it’s practically in their bones.

They often use large amounts of sugar in their cooking, from cakes and cookies to all sorts of savory dishes.

But for a Chinese person, this level of sweetness was just too much.

Feng Shan withheld his comment for the moment and turned his gaze to the second dish.

It was a bowl of egg drop soup.

Its appearance and color looked fine.

But when he picked up the spoon and scooped some up, he discovered something.

The egg drop soup was stringy.

That’s right, stringy.

It was sticky and coated the inside of his mouth. And, yep, it was sweet and sour.

’Sweet and sour egg drop soup?’

Again, Feng Shan offered no comment and looked at the third dish.

Fried spring rolls.

This dish didn’t require much skill. As long as the filling was normal, it couldn’t be too bad.

Feng Shan picked one up and examined it closely. The wrapper was fried to a crispy golden-brown and gave off an enticing aroma.

He took a careful bite. The crispy skin made a satisfying CRUNCH, and then the rich filling spread across his tongue.

Ugh, still sickeningly sweet and cloying. And the fine particles inside were somewhat chewy.

"What’s this filling?"

"Marshmallows mixed with gummy bears," Jenny replied proudly. "Feng even helped me design this new filling."