Ring Ring...
The alarm on Chen Yang's cellphone woke him from a deep sleep, and he rubbed his eyes to check the time—it was 5:20 AM.
At this hour, even during summer, it was still dark outside; except for those in some special professions, most people were still asleep.
Chen Yang had one of those jobs that required an early start—he owned a noodle shop.
This noodle shop was inherited from Chen Yang's parents who, after struggling for half their lives, had earned a small building and the noodle shop which they had now passed on to him.
Perhaps to outsiders, running a noodle shop might seem much harder than a regular job because it certainly involves getting up early and staying up late, many times harder than a regular eight-hour job. But there are exceptions, like Chen Yang.
Chen Yang, who lacked great ambitions, had always been content with living a safe life with a modest income. Thus, he operated his noodle business only at two key times—a rush for breakfast during the morning commute, and late-night workers. These periods were highly profitable, constituting about sixty to seventy percent of the day's earnings. This made his job relatively easy and ensured a stable source of income, for relying solely on rent wouldn't allow him to save money.
After getting up, brushing his teeth, and washing his face, Chen Yang was ready to leave when he suddenly remembered that things were not the same as before. The experience of yesterday played vividly before his eyes, making him break out in a cold sweat and look down at his unremarkable right hand with a shudder.
"?Uh, why isn't it making any sounds? Is it, is it gone?"
Or was everything just a dream?
He pinched the skin of his right hand—it was rough and strong, just an ordinary right hand with nothing unusual. Chen Yang was bewildered for a moment, unable to grasp the situation.
"Uh…"
He opened his mouth and then closed it again, ruffled his ears, and after a minute of thought, he decided to stick to his usual routine.
Like always, Chen Yang locked his door and walked out of the alley, heading towards the narrow street under the streetlights. His noodle shop was located on that 30-year-old street.
The narrow street wasn't home to just his shop—along the way, many heritage breakfast spots were beginning to open, including two street vendors who were already setting up their tables and stools for selling deep-fried dough sticks and soy milk.
Pulling up his roller shutter, Chen Yang entered his small noodle shop, swept the floor to clear it of trash, and then hurriedly set about boiling water and making the dough.
Making dough is fundamental to producing hand-pulled noodles, crucial because the quality of the dough affects the rate of gluten formation. Good dough ensures high gluten survival, which in turn ensures quality so distinct that no ordinary noodles can compare—the true charm of hand-pulled noodles. Although recently, dough mixtures have become available, Chen Yang's father had built a reputable business with his authentic skills over the years, not something that can be replaced by any premade mixture.
Chen Yang's skills might not compare to his father's, but having seen his father make dough countless times since his childhood, he mastered the basic techniques and could make dough with ease.
Once the dough was ready, the next step was to let it rest.
The so-called resting step means letting the dough sit for a while—in summer, typically about twenty minutes. During this time, Chen Yang could take a quiet break, perhaps with a hot drink.
Under normal circumstances, one would expect to finish a hot drink easily, but imagine if, hypothetically, when reaching for the hot drink, the right hand uncontrollably grabbed a rolling pin from beside and gave oneself a hit on the forehead, it would definitely spoil anyone's mood.
Fortunately, it wasn't a heavy blow, and Chen Yang quickly reacted, dripping with sweat, and said, "Uh, uh, honorable sir… um, are you awake?"
The right hand transformed into that dreadful form, looked around, and asked, "Where is this?"
"Uh, this is... this is my noodle shop,"
Chen Yang replied respectfully.
"A noodle shop?"
The right hand seemed indifferent, "Did I tell you to keep the item safely?"
"That item? Uh, no problem, absolutely no problem, I've kept it in the safest and most reliable place at home, safe from everyone but myself!"
Chen Yang hurriedly responded.
"What are you doing at this place?"
The right hand seemed to ask casually, and not delving deeper upon receiving Chen Yang's reply, instead, raised another question.
"What, what are you doing?"
"This, this..."
Chen Yang touched the back of his head with his left hand because the question about his right hand was simply too easy; no, rather than easy, it was downright boring, and he honestly didn't know how to answer.
After mulling it over a bit, Chen Yang cautiously said, "In this place, according to what we humans would say, that would be making money. Making money mainly involves accumulating a type of credit currency, which allows me to exchange it for the necessities of life..."
"Making money... I need money..."
Before Chen Yang could finish explaining, Right Hand suddenly spoke up, "A lot of money."
"A lot of money? This..."
Chen Yang was a bit confused; did aliens need money as well?
"Yes, a lot of money. As your host in this situation, your social standing among humans is almost at the bottom. The resources I want to obtain can't be accessed in your current state, so a substantial amount of Currency is necessary."
Chen Yang felt a bit embarrassed; was he being scorned by an alien?
But then Chen Yang's spirits lifted, perceiving the unknown creature's demands as a good thing. It was much better than not being told anything at all before. The saying goes, demands expose weaknesses, and upon this creature making demands, he would have the chance to rise, um, no, to flatter—hmm, also not right—to take the opportunity to extract information.
So, Chen Yang opened his mouth, ready to offer some cunning plan, feeling as if he were channeling the wisdom of Zhuge Liang himself!
He even touched his somewhat stubbly chin with his left hand, a slightly charming, confident smile creeping onto his face, and he slowly started to say, "Sir, I hesitate to speak out but..."
"Ah... damn it, wait a second..."
The moment he had barely uttered whether he should speak or not, the Right Hand slapped him across the face, instantly causing Chen Yang's proud face to swell up.
This, this doesn't match what they say on TV. Shouldn't it at least say "Please speak" at times like this, if not show respect to the wise? Why hit me? Looks like those outside of Earth are truly unreasonable.
Wearing a mournful expression, Chen Yang quickly said, "Actually, sir, you might not be familiar with the situation on Earth since you've just arrived. Honestly, there's no need to be so polite; Earthlings are very timid. They fear death, are shameless and morally bankrupt. If you just show your true abilities and massacre them, you don't actually need money—many people will cry and offer whatever you want with both hands. By then, you'd dominate Earth easily, and obtaining any resources would be a breeze. Of course, if you'd rather not deal with these stupid humans, I, humble as I am, am willing to do it on your behalf..."
The moment he finished speaking, his left cheek was met with another slap.
"Fool!"
"Do you think, in my current state, I could suppress all of humanity by force?"
Right Hand coldly completed this sentence and slapped Chen Yang again, "Next time, think before you speak, or the punishment will double."
Chen Yang held his face with his left hand and had to admit, getting slapped really hurt! At the same time, a surge of unparalleled fury rose in his heart—Damn it, not even my dad has beaten me from childhood to now, and you, mere alien, dare to hit me... Ah!
Chen Yang cried out in pain. He had forgotten that Right Hand could sense his emotions.
Humans are the best at seeing which way the wind is blowing. Chen Yang swallowed his tears and blood, a flattering smile appearing on his face as he said, "Actually, sir, there's no need to be angry; I still have some good strategies to contribute..."
As for making money, although there are many ways in the world today, if we speak of speed, of course, smuggling, drug trafficking, or robbing banks are the fastest. Given our current circumstances, smuggling and drug trafficking are not realistic, so I strongly recommend robbing a bank."
As he said this, Chen Yang looked around as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then whispered, "Sir, as I have carefully observed, the bank on Zhi Shui Street, both in terms of traffic and defense, is very easy to tackle. If we just…"
Chen Yang hated that bank for the contempt an employee there had once shown him; if he didn't take revenge now, he wouldn't be a true gentleman.
"Robbing a bank? No, we absolutely cannot draw attention from human society right now."
Right Hand flatly rejected Chen Yang's suggestion.
Chen Yang didn't lose heart and proposed another plan. (I need everyone's recommendations, please recommend this on Qi Dian; the shameless author begs for votes, thank you all!)