In the evening, An Feng set his laptop on the kitchen counter, determined to learn how to cook a decent steak by following a video tutorial.
He was staring intensely at the sizzling frying pan when Old John walked in carrying a covered plate.
“Hey, boss, look what I brought you,” John said with a warm grin.
“Is that roast lamb?” An Feng wiped his hands on a towel and took the plate.
As soon as he lifted the cover, the rich aroma of charcoal-roasted mutton seasoned with pepper and cumin filled the kitchen.
He took a bite.
The meat was tender, perfectly juicy, and had just the right amount of fat.
He swallowed and immediately gave a enthusiastic thumbs-up.
“This is incredible!” “It’s some mutton from Mark, the old cowboy down the road,” John explained.
“We roasted a few pieces tonight.
Since Miss Stanwell isn’t around, I figured you might be going hungry.” Hearing this made An Feng look back at his frying pan.
He quickly flipped the steak, only to realize it was already charred black on one side.
‘Well, I really am terrible at cooking,’ An Feng thought, turning off the stove.
He abandoned the ruined steak and happily sat down to eat the delicious lamb with some fresh, cold vegetables.
“Are these sheep free-range?” An Feng asked between bites.
“They are, and the meat is much better for it,” John said.
“Mark keeps a few sheep at his place, and whenever he slaughters one, it lasts him half a month.
If you’re interested, we have plenty of empty land.
We could easily fence off a small section and raise some sheep.
It won’t take up much space, and our regular hands can easily feed them some pasture grass.” An Feng’s eyes lit up.
His estate was massive, and the grapevines only took up about three hundred acres.
The rest of the land was just sitting there empty.
‘In China, we’d call this organic, local meat,’ he thought.
‘And there’s nothing better than that.’ “That’s a great idea, John,” An Feng said.
“Go ahead and buy a few sheep whenever you have the time.” John smiled and nodded.
“Will do, boss.” With the sheep and the dogs settled, An Feng started thinking about his role as a vineyard owner.
If he was going to live like a proper California landowner, he needed to look the part.
And what was a cowboy without a horse?
The next morning, An Feng brought up the idea to Joanna, and she was thrilled to help.
She took the wheel of his convertible Ferrari, her hair tied up neatly and a light coat making her look bright and youthful.
As they sped down Highway 101, she couldn’t stop smiling as she talked about horses.
“This isn’t even the best route,” Joanna said, raising her voice slightly over the wind.
“The drive from San Luis Obispo up to Highway 1, all the way to Monterey, is easily the most beautiful road in the country.
It’s just mountains on one side and the ocean on the other.” “I’ve heard of Highway 1,” An Feng said.
“We should definitely take a road trip there sometime.
It sounds amazing.” Following the GPS, they headed north through California and entered Santa Clara County.
An Feng found American addresses slightly confusing, as they listed the city before the county, which was the exact opposite of how things were written back in China.
He had gotten turned around by it more than once.
They eventually left the main road, winding up a dusty mountain path.
After a few hundred meters of bumpy off-roading, they finally pulled into a private ranch.
As soon as An Feng parked, he immediately got out to check the bottom of his Ferrari.
The road had been full of potholes, and though he had raised the car’s suspension, he had been holding his breath the entire time.
‘If I drove this low-riding sports car out here at night, I’d probably rip the bumper right off,’ he thought.
‘I guess even America has terrible roads.’ The ranch owner was already waiting for them.
The property was about forty acres, but it was incredibly well-equipped.
It had five standard stables, two outdoor arenas, two training pens, a large hay barn, and a shop stocked with professional riding gear.
Joanna took the lead in talking to the owner, while An Feng contentedly played the role of the silent investor.
To his untrained eyes, every single horse looked magnificent, tall, and powerful.
Luckily, Joanna had given him a quick crash course before they arrived.
They were here to look for warm-blooded horses.
‘Let’s see if I remember this right,’ An Feng thought.
‘Hot-blooded horses are too wild and mostly used for racing.
Cold-blooded horses are calm and heavy, meant for farm work.
Warm-blooded horses are the sweet spot—hybrid riding horses perfect for equestrian sports.’ Joanna walked through the stables, completely unbothered by the dust and smell, inspecting the animals one by one.
“First, you want to look at the overall proportions,” Joanna instructed, pointing to a dark Quarter Horse.
“Look at the relationship between the head, neck, shoulders, and legs.
For example, this one’s neck is a bit too thin for its body.” She moved to the next stall.
“And you have to check their joints and hooves.
A compact, sturdy structure is always best.
If their joints are weak, they’ll get injured easily.” She pointed out a flaw in a horse that An Feng actually thought looked great.
He realized that if he had come alone, the owner would have easily overcharged him for a flawed animal.
After narrowing down the choices, Joanna had the stable hands lead a few horses out.
She watched them walk to check for any hidden injuries, gently pressed various spots on their backs and legs to gauge their sensitivity, and evaluated their overall temperament.
The ranch owner watched her work, looking thoroughly impressed by her expertise.
By the end of the thorough screening, Joanna had a shortlist of five outstanding horses.
They were different colors and sizes, but each one looked incredibly strong.
Feeling impatient, An Feng waved his hand.
“Let’s just buy all five of them.” Joanna turned to him, shaking her head.
“No, Alex, that’s not how this works.
These are high-quality pedigree horses.
They need individual care, regular exercise, and a dedicated owner.
If you buy too many at once, they won’t get the attention they need.
They’ll just get bored sitting in the stables, ruin their temperament, and waste their talent.” An Feng hadn’t realized there was so much responsibility involved.
He walked down the line of horses, unsure of how to choose.
Suddenly, he locked eyes with a beautiful bay-colored horse.
The horse stepped forward, pushing its large face toward him and letting out a soft snort.
An Feng smiled and reached out, gently petting its head.
The horse’s coat was incredibly soft.
The horse leaned into his hand, shaking its head slightly as if trying to find the best spot to scratch.
An Feng rubbed its ears and looked back at Joanna.
“I’ll take this one.
I think he likes me.” Joanna walked over to inspect it.
“A bay Andalusian.
That’s a rare coat color for this breed.
He’s four and a half years old, strong, and highly muscular.
Excellent choice, Alex.” An Feng then pointed to the remaining horses.
“Go ahead and pick one for yourself too, Joanna.” “Me?” Joanna blinked, pointing a finger at her chest in surprise.
“Of course,” An Feng said with a grin.
“You know I’m clueless about riding.
I’m going to need you to teach me, which means you need a proper mount.
Think of it as a necessary business expense.” Joanna didn’t try to hide her excitement.
She immediately pointed to a beautiful brown Arabian horse she had spent the most time admiring earlier.
The horse was five years old, and its sire had won several local equestrian competitions.
Given its size, it was the perfect fit for her.
Since the stable at his estate was quite large and he wanted to have horses available for when family or friends visited, An Feng also asked Joanna to select three well-trained Quarter Horses, which added another thirty thousand dollars to the bill.
With the horses chosen, they headed to the ranch shop to pick out the riding gear.
An Feng preferred the classic Western look, so he chose an exquisite, hand-carved dark red leather saddle.
Although the handcrafted saddle cost twice as much as a standard machine-made one, he fell in love with the intricate artwork on the stirrups.
He also bought a complete set of high-grade leather bridles, reins, whips, helmets, boots, and riding vests.
The owner was so pleased with the massive sale that he threw in a beautiful silver belt buckle as a gift.
“Is there anything else we need, Joanna?” An Feng asked.
Joanna thought for a moment and added a few items he had missed, including specialized riding pants, leather half-chaps, and grooming supplies for the stables.
In less than a single afternoon, An Feng signed a check for a hundred and twenty thousand dollars—equivalent to half the price of a brand-new Ferrari.
‘No wonder people say equestrianism is a sport for the rich,’ An Feng thought as they drove away.
‘And this is just the entry level.
If I ever decide to buy a champion thoroughbred, I’ll need tens of millions.’