Perfectly Reasonable

At ten in the morning, Lin Rui drove the old pastor's pickup to the unloading area of Whole Foods Supermarket right on time and loaded all the "donated food" Mrs. Jones had arranged into the truck bed.

"Mr. Borg didn't come?" Mrs. Jones asked. "Is he sick?"

For the past few years, the old pastor had driven to several "relief donation suppliers" in Manhattan at set times every day to collect food for the homeless, never stopping, rain or shine.

As Lin Rui moved the boxes, he said, "Mr. Borg is fine. I got my temporary driver's license, so I'm driving around to collect the food for him."

The temporary license was a thin slip of paper proving that its holder had passed the written and road tests and received approval from the New York City Department of Motor Vehicles.

The permanent license would arrive in the mail later. The temporary license was equally valid.

"That fast?" Mrs. Jones glanced it over. "How did you pull that off, kid?"

"God favors me." Lin Rui gave a casual laugh. "You've known Pastor Borg for so many years. Didn't you ever think of asking him to get the church to help?"

"I always thought getting some relief money from Pastor Borg now and then was already the biggest perk." Mrs. Jones was a little annoyed, then asked, "How's that idea of yours to set up a food stall coming along?"

"Pretty smoothly. The Presbyterian clergy told me yesterday that they're willing to provide a proper food truck for the 'charity sale,'" Lin Rui said smugly.

"A food truck?" Mrs. Jones exclaimed, inexplicably feeling a little jealous. "You actually managed to get a food truck?"

The original plan had been for Lin Rui to literally set up a stall: haul a few insulated food containers in the pickup, along with some simple tables and banners, then piece everything together on some street corner.

Like the relief distribution points commonly seen around, it would be a temporary setup, easy to deploy and pack up quickly. Getting a food truck was an entirely different matter. That counted as having a fixed asset.

"Damn, if you can get a food truck, you're going to make big money!"

The New York City Government had restricted the number of street food vendors since the 1980s and had only relaxed those restrictions in 2021.

During that period, there had only been a little over three thousand legal street vendors in total, with fewer than a thousand food trucks among them. A legal food truck license was extremely expensive.

"Where did the church get a food truck?" Mrs. Jones asked.

"I don't know either." Lin Rui shrugged. "Having a food truck is a good thing. It'll make it easier to expand the charity sale and earn more."

After loading several insulated food containers, Lin Rui drove back to the little church in The Bronx.

With Lin Rui helping out lately, the old pastor had finally been spared a great deal of work. Jobs like driving and hauling things no longer had to wear out his old bones, allowing him to focus on "more important matters."

Such as holding a few more prayer gatherings for the faithful, hearing a few more penitents' confessions, or drawing a few more "lost lambs" into the church.

Lin Rui's arrival had greatly kindled the old pastor's zeal for preaching. He felt that the people of the world could still be saved and that he ought to seek out a few more "people inclined toward goodness."

Outside the church, a group of homeless people was gathering, waiting for relief to be handed out. More than half were disheveled and filthy, their minds wandering, giving off a foul stench.

Some pushed little shopping carts taken from supermarkets, filled with all their worldly supplies-shoes, hats, clothes, and the like, mostly worthless junk.

Several churchgoers were setting up the food distribution tables. Linda, the white girl who had asked for Lin Rui's number last time, was there too. She smiled and waved a greeting, then jogged over.

"Hi, Leon. I heard you got a food truck." Linda wore a white T-shirt, and as she ran, it looked as though two little rabbits were hidden beneath it, bouncing away.

"Yes. I want to follow Pastor Essen Borg's example and do whatever charity work I can." Lin Rui carried the insulated containers from the truck to the food distribution tables so the churchgoers helping out could take the food out and get it ready to distribute.

Linda followed behind Lin Rui and whispered with a grin, "Kid, stop pretending. I know exactly what you're up to. Don't forget, I study journalism. I'm planning to become an investigative reporter."

Lin Rui countered, "Is there anything dark around me worth investigating?"

"Remember the 'social practice course' I told you about?" Linda leaned close to Lin Rui's ear, her breath warm as she said, "I'm taking part in charity relief because I want to write a paper on 'social assistance.'"

"So..." Lin Rui waited for her to continue.

"You're very interesting." Linda stared at Lin Rui's face. "I've always wondered whether you're really seventeen, because you're far too seasoned."

When Lin Rui tried to step away, Linda kept closing in, pressing close as she said, "Do you really think Pastor Borg applied for that food truck for you? No, I'm the one who sorted it out."

Lin Rui was a little bewildered. "You...?"

"Never mind how I did it. The keys are in my hands, anyway. If you want the truck, agree to one condition." As though she had Lin Rui firmly in her grasp, Linda pressed her full breasts against him without the slightest hesitation.

"What condition?"

"I want in on your plan."

"Plan? I don't have any plan. I just want to raise some money for Mr. and Mrs. Jones's medical bills."

"Right, right, right. I just want to see how you're going to raise money for the medical bills of that poor couple living in Block Forty-One."

Still grinning, Linda continued, "Running a food truck takes at least two people. I don't need wages, I won't ask for a share of the profits, and I can help you work. I just want to do a little 'social practice.'"

The moment Linda said she wanted to be an "investigative reporter," Lin Rui had gone on alert. He did not refuse her outright, instead going to ask the old pastor about the situation first...

The answer he received was, "Applying for a stall and applying for a food truck are two completely different things. Linda did indeed exert some influence in the matter. She has the keys to the truck."

Left with no choice, Lin Rui returned to lay down some ground rules with Linda. "I originally thought you were a 'naive sweetheart.' Looks like I underestimated you.

"To be honest, I really admire investigative reporters who dare to expose society's dark side. They're embodiments of courage and wisdom.

"Since you helped get the food truck, it's perfectly reasonable to let you join its operation. But I have one bottom line: when you write your reports in the future, you can't include any descriptions of me."

Linda considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. I'll only observe, not interfere. Anything involving you will use an alias."

"Where's the truck?" Lin Rui held out his hand. "Give me the keys."

Linda took a key out of her pocket and gestured with her lips toward the roadside opposite the church. "It's right over there."

It was a large food truck converted from a four-wheeled light truck, with huge "hot dog," "hamburger," and "ice cream" designs painted on its body.

One side opened up to form an awning, with a service counter inside.

The interior was spacious enough to easily accommodate fittings such as a cash register counter, a freezer, a prepared-food display cabinet, and a microwave. A water tank, sink, and wastewater tank had also been installed.

It had batteries and a generator as well, along with folding tables and chairs. Once everything was set out, it could support round-the-clock operation.

"This truck is fantastic. It couldn't have been cheap." Lin Rui estimated that buying and converting it would have cost at least fifty thousand dollars.

Linda smiled. "Guess where it came from."

Lin Rui looked the truck over inside and out, thinking that if he had a food truck like this, it would definitely be the foundation for feeding his family. He would not easily hand it over to someone else.

Seeing Lin Rui shake his head in bewilderment, Linda gave him the answer. "This was a prop truck for a film company shooting in New York. The crew spent a lot of money buying a new truck and converting it.

"Once filming wrapped up, they didn't want the truck anymore.

"I heard you were applying for a stall and wanted to get a food truck, so I asked a friend to handle the paperwork and got the truck along the way. Of course, you only have the right to use it, not ownership."

Lin Rui could not help thanking her. "Linda, you've got quite a bit of pull yourself."

Linda's smile was both alluring and smug.

With the truck secured, Lin Rui busied himself completing the final steps of obtaining permission, such as visiting the New York City Department of Consumer and Worker Protection to apply for a temporary vendor permit.

With the church backing it as a charitable project, the staff member looked over the documents Lin Rui supplied without making things difficult, merely asking a few minor questions...

"Leon, you should know that this is a tax-exempt charitable project. Individuals aren't allowed to profit from it. Are you willing to accept that? Especially since you're still a student, you aren't allowed to work."

"Of course. I'll absolutely obey the law and won't draw a salary myself. This isn't work, either. It's charity, social practice."

Lin Rui first nodded in assurance, but immediately changed tack. "But some operating expenses should be reimbursable from the project's proceeds, right? Fuel and maintenance costs for the vehicle, for instance."

"Of course." The staff member nodded.

"Also, to keep the project running, purchases of supplies and ingredients can certainly be deducted from the proceeds, right?"

"That's perfectly reasonable." The staff member nodded again.

"Furthermore, as the person operating the project, my daily transportation, meals, accommodation, and medical insurance can also be deducted from the proceeds, right?"

The staff member was starting to lose his composure, but on careful consideration, all the expenses Lin Rui had listed fell within the bounds of the law and regulations.

Lowering his voice, he asked, "Kid, you seem to know all the tricks of this trade. But all your proceeds have to be turned over first, and the church's financial staff will decide how much of a subsidy to give you."

"No problem. The proceeds will definitely be turned over," Lin Rui agreed. "But..."

The moment he heard "but," the staff member frowned and looked at Lin Rui, speechless.

Lin Rui continued, "As an international student who's just arrived in New York, it would be normal for me to make some operating mistakes and misjudgments, wouldn't it?"

"What are you trying to say?" the staff member asked.

"I mean, given my limited abilities, if I don't make money at the start, or even lose money, and have no proceeds to turn over, that would also be perfectly reasonable, right?"

The staff member was going mad. He threatened in a low voice, "Kid, are you done yet? You aren't trying to dodge taxes, are you?"

"This is a charitable project. It's tax-exempt," Lin Rui reminded him.

"Then you're trying to pocket money on the side." The staff member's face twisted.

"Every situation I mentioned is perfectly reasonable." Lin Rui lowered his voice too. "You aren't trying to discriminate against me, are you? I'll file a complaint against you."

The staff member was instantly silenced. Irritated, he said, "Kid, did you really only just arrive in America?"