...

A dozen minutes later, the father and sons left Ji Man Xiang.

After all that commotion, who would still have the mood to eat?

The chubby kid was so hungry he could hardly walk, tightly clutching Luke's arm, "Bro, I want to eat."

Luke's stomach was also growling; he'd only had a hot dog for lunch—how could he not be hungry?

Li Zhaofeng was a bit upset too, worried about his brother's family's issues but didn't want to show it on his face. Since his two sons rarely visited, he hoped they would have a good time. Composing himself, he asked casually, "What do you want to eat, Chinese or Western?"

Li Zhaofeng was concerned that his sons, accustomed to Western food, might not be used to eating Chinese food all the time.

"As long as there's meat, it's fine." The chubby one wasn't picky.

Li Zhaofeng laughed, "Let's go, there's a restaurant up ahead, I guarantee you haven't tried it."

By that time, it was already dark.

New York's Chinatown wasn't very lively at night, with fewer people on the streets.

After walking another hundred meters or so, they reached An's Lamb Shop.

Luke glanced up at the sign and knew it was a Northwestern-style restaurant.

Indeed, the menu offered special roasted lamb, large plate chicken, red willow skewers, roasted buns, hand-pulled noodles, pilaf, and naan.

Thinking his sons hadn't tried Northwestern cuisine, Li Zhaofeng ordered one of each, hoping they would taste everything.

A roasted lamb leg, a small portion of large plate chicken with belt noodles, ten red willow skewers, roasted fish, spicy lamb feet, three roasted buns, a portion of stir-fried rice noodles, a portion of pilaf, and a piece of naan.

If they couldn't finish, they could have it for breakfast the next morning.

Luke started with a cold beer, drinking half of it in one go, quenching his thirst and hunger, feeling satisfied.

The roasted buns came out first, and Luke finished them in four bites. With food in his stomach at last, he asked, "Dad, who are those guys with Boss Zhang? Why do they eat for free at the restaurant?"

Seeing his eldest son quickly polish off the roasted buns, Li Zhaofeng was about to give the last one to him. But the younger son had finished his too, so he regretted ordering so little. Luckily, the roasted lamb leg arrived, saving him from embarrassment,

"Eat some lamb."

Li Zhaofeng cut a couple of pieces of lamb and gave them to his sons before saying, "They belong to He Sheng Hall, and that Boss Zhang is a gang leader, sort of a fellow townsman to us.

Once, when someone came to cause trouble at your uncle's restaurant, he helped out.

Your uncle thought he was decent, and since they were from the same place, he might be useful in the future.

So he invited him for a few meals.

Who would have thought they'd latch on, coming once or twice a month, each time saying to put it on their tab, but never settling the account.

With his gang background, your uncle didn't dare offend him.

Things in Chinatown are different from the outside; this issue has never been resolved."

Luke asked, "Dad, should I step in and help Uncle sort this out?"

Li Zhaofeng shook his head, "No, it's not something that can be explained in a few words.

Your uncle is aware."

Luke nodded and didn't say more, focusing on his meal.

This isn't Los Angeles, it's New York.

He's an LAPD officer, having not much authority here.

If he really wanted to deal with these gang members, he'd have to pull some strings. It's not hard to deal with them; the hard part is scaring them enough not to retaliate.

Otherwise, Luke would leave, and they'd go back to causing trouble at the restaurant, and his uncle's business wouldn't survive.

That would not be helping but harming them.

This matter also made Luke a bit annoyed. If this were Los Angeles, there would be no need to hesitate; Luke would have already dealt with them.

In a foreign place, without that uniform on him, Luke felt somewhat unsettled.

Thinking about this, Luke was a bit envious of Anthony, the guy with the FBI name tag works everywhere without as many constraints, even intimidating people abroad.

He'd have to try to get an identity like that, otherwise, he wouldn't even dare leave Los Angeles.

Li Zhaofeng underestimated his two sons; by the time they finished, there was hardly anything left over. Forget about packing leftovers; the brothers even split the staple food.