The Deportation Line for Illegal Immigrants

San Francisco, United States, 1980s.

At the height of its national power, this mountaintop nation of God gathered elites from all over the world. Countless people came here every year to chase their dreams and create unbelievable myths of wealth.

In Chinatown, the archways were vermilion, neon lights flickered, and signs crowded against signs. The breeze carried the aroma of char siu and sizzling oil.

Roast ducks hung in Chinese restaurants. Shop owners served customers in Cantonese mixed with English words, while street-corner stalls displayed vegetables, dried mushrooms, and seafood.

Crime festered amid the bustling streets.

"Shit! Stop!"

Members of a Black gang chased a young Chinese man into Chinatown. The moment they rounded a street corner, they were swallowed by a massive crowd.

The Black men were completely dumbfounded. The streets were full of yellow faces, and they could not tell one person from another.

They split up, but never found the young Chinese man again.

Deep in an alley, assorted cardboard boxes and garbage were piled everywhere.

A handsome young man with long hair hid behind the stack of boxes. He was Huang Bai.

"The Heavenly Dao Talisman Edict is way too unreliable. At least give me a decent identity. Every time, it starts me off in a hopeless situation." Huang Bai wiped the sweat from his forehead and cursed inwardly.

The Heavenly Dao Talisman Edict would not make him undocumented. Whenever he crossed over, he had the identity of a local. This time, he was a young Chinese American from the bottom rung of society, being extorted by Black thugs from the neighborhood.

"Brother Hu! Master Hu! Wait for me!"

Urgent footsteps sounded in the distance. One fat man and one thin man raced down the street, led by a Chinese man with slightly long hair.

The fat man behind him panted as he followed.

Farther back, a group of uniformed pursuers was closing in.

"I'm telling you, Little Fatty, you really screwed me over. You said there were no pursuers here? This place is practically a hornet's nest!"

"Master Hu, who knew those evil capitalist lackeys would ambush us so shamelessly? Old Hu, hey, wait for me!"

"Comrade Little Fatty, as your closest comrade-in-arms, I can safely entrust my back to you. Hold them off!"

The two traded banter as they ran, but they could not shake their pursuers.

At that moment, Huang Bai stuck his head out.

"Over here!"

Seeing a Chinese face, the two did not stop to think and immediately followed him.

The group of three circled around for a while before finally shaking off their pursuers.

"Whew..." Wang Pangzi was drenched in sweat, his hands braced on his knees. "Thanks, miss."

"Open your pig eyes wide. Does he look like a miss to you?" Hu Bayi laughed.

Huang Bai wore his hair long, and Wang Pangzi had not looked carefully. At a glance, he had mistaken him for a woman.

"Sorry, sorry. Where are you from, brother?"

"Guangdong Province. And you two are...?"

Huang Bai studied them closely. These should be Hu Bayi and Wang Pangzi.

"Those were immigration officers. We don't have local IDs." Hu Bayi smiled bitterly.

Only after crossing the ocean did Hu Bayi realize that he was useless at everything. Other than tomb raiding, what else could he do?

His English was barely enough for basic communication, and he had no marketable skills. Left with no choice, he peddled small goods from street to street, all while staying alert for immigration raids.

His pride would not allow him to ask Shirley Yang for help. He had been avoiding her lately, and he would probably be deported before long.

"So you're illegal immigrants. Looks like your deportation line is coming up too." Huang Bai laughed in realization. No wonder these two brothers had run so desperately.

"What do you mean, illegal immigrants?" Wang Pangzi asked, confused.

"It means undocumented people without legal status."

"Aren't you one too?" Hu Bayi said helplessly.

"Of course not. I have legal status..."

As they spoke, Wang Pangzi's and Hu Bayi's stomachs began to growl.

"Meeting is fate. Come on, I'll treat you two to a meal."

At a Chinese restaurant in the Chinese district, the tables were slick with grease, and the Sichuan food was bursting with wok hei. The two ate until they were belching.

"That hit the spot. Thanks, Brother Huang, our dear comrade-in-arms." Wang Pangzi patted his belly, changing his address from brother to comrade-in-arms.

"Ahem, do either of you have money? I seem to have forgotten to bring any." Huang Bai looked awkward. He had forgotten this was not his previous world. In this world, he was penniless and buried in debt.

"What?" Wang Pangzi shot to his feet. "Brother Huang, that's not right. Didn't you say you were treating us?"

Hu Bayi could not sit still either. He patted his pockets and said,

"I'll tell you in advance, all I have left is this last pair of pants I'm wearing. You can't possibly expect me to pay with them, can you?"

"I'll pay you back. Not only am I treating you, I'll hire you too and get you legal work visas."

At the mention of work, Wang Pangzi and Hu Bayi perked up. A legal work visa was far too important.

"What is Adviser Huang hiring us to do? Let's be clear first: Fatty sells his skills, not his body!"

Hu Bayi said nothing, but the way he looked at Huang Bai made it seem as though he were looking at a con man.

"I haven't decided yet. Let's settle the bill first."

The two brothers scraped together enough money to pay for the meal. Afterward, they had only fifty dollars left.

"That's enough."

Huang Bai pocketed the cash and strode out of the Chinese restaurant.

The basement of a laundromat.

Though it was only an underground casino beneath a laundromat, it was the largest casino in the area, with an enormous daily cash flow.

The lights were bright, and the air was heavy with cigarette smoke, cheap perfume, and the smell of old carpet.

The ceiling was low, shadows crowded every corner, and people gathered around green-felt tables covered in colorful chips. From time to time, cheers erupted from the crowd, mingled with the frustrated curses of gamblers.

"This isn't right. Gambling is something you absolutely can't touch."

Having grown up under the red flag, Hu Bayi and Wang Pangzi were seeing a scene like this for the first time and were momentarily stunned.

Huang Bai exchanged the fifty dollars for a large chip. Ignoring their attempts to stop him, he walked straight to the gambling table.

"Brother, calm down! That's our last money!"

The two watched helplessly as the chip landed on seven.

Hu Bayi panicked and hurriedly said, "You can't be one of the casino's shills..."

Before he could finish, the dice cup was lifted.

"Two, three, two. Seven points. Low."

With six-to-one odds, fifty dollars instantly became three hundred.

Huang Bai never acted without confidence. His divine sense could perceive everything within a five-meter radius, so the situation inside the dice cup was naturally no problem for him.

Hu Bayi froze and muttered,

"Quit while you're ahead. The longer you gamble, the more you lose. How can anyone make money through gambling?"

Before he could finish again, the three hundred dollars instantly became eighteen hundred.

After that, Huang Bai began placing bets in batches. Some lost and some won, but overall, he kept making money.

Soon, the chips snowballed. A crowd gathered around the three of them, and the casino management noticed. They quickly replaced both the dealer and the dice cup, but they still could not stop Huang Bai from winning.

Ten thousand, twenty thousand, one hundred thousand, two hundred and fifty thousand... one million five hundred thousand.

The area was packed with people. Huang Bai pushed one million in chips onto eight, and everyone else followed his bet.

In the surveillance room on the second floor, the casino owner stared intently at the screen and even began signaling for the gunmen to get ready.

Winning a few hundred thousand was nothing. As a major casino in the city, it was a lot of money, but not enough that they could not afford to lose it. But so many people winning together was another matter.

"Come on, come on, come on!"

"Hit, hit, hit!"

At the gambling table, Wang Pangzi and Hu Bayi had red eyes. They had completely forgotten their earlier words. All they wanted now was to get rich and become multimillionaires.

The dice cup opened.

"One, five, four. Ten points!"

The crowd erupted. Some people immediately began cursing loudly.

Hu Bayi and Wang Pangzi were struck dumb, as if a basin of cold water had been poured over their heads. Losing one million in a single bet was too overwhelming.

Though they came from a compound family background, their fathers would never see that much money in their entire lives.

"Let's go. Quit while we're ahead."

Huang Bai had already exchanged the remaining five hundred thousand in chips for a check.

When they walked outside, the warm sunlight fell on their faces, making everything feel surreal.

"Ah, we should have bet on nine!" Wang Pangzi beat his chest in regret.

"The longer you gamble, the more you lose. Quit while we're ahead. Let this windfall be enough. I won't dare gamble again in the future."

Huang Bai had done it deliberately. First, a small casino was not very stable. Winning five hundred thousand was more than enough; any more would only invite trouble for no reason. Besides, he was not someone who loved money.

Second, he wanted to give Hu Bayi and Wang Pangzi a warning, lest they become addicted to gambling in the future.

"That makes sense. Still, how did you do it?" Hu Bayi was relatively calm. After all, he was someone who had crawled out of piles of corpses.

"Me?" Huang Bai smiled mysteriously. "I'm a Daoist. I can divine the future."

Naturally, neither of them believed him.

After this experience, Hu Bayi and Wang Pangzi admired Huang Bai immensely.

"From now on, we'll do legitimate business. The three of us will start a business together. I'll provide the money, and you two provide the labor. You'll each get twenty percent of the shares."

"Brother Huang, from now on, we'll follow you." Wang Pangzi was thoroughly convinced.

"What business are we doing?" Hu Bayi asked.

Huang Bai looked around, then looked at the Chinese restaurant nearby and said,

"Chinese food."

"Huh? Let's be clear first. I can cook, but my skills... probably can't compare to the chefs in a restaurant." The two were honest.

Huang Bai shook his head and said,

"Chinese people have picky palates. They've had authentic Chinese food, so they won't think much of what we make. We can't make it authentic anyway. Rather than trying to please Chinese people, we should localize it, target the local market, and standardize, localize, and turn Chinese food into fast food."

The two only half understood, but Huang Bai was the financier, so they would simply follow his lead.

"What should we call the restaurant?" Hu Bayi asked.

"Panda Express."

In 1984, in San Francisco, Huang Bai led the tomb-raiding duo into entrepreneurship, officially beginning their journey of washing their hands of their old trade.