An Feng also bought an off-road motorcycle and a quad ATV.
The motorcycle could ride in the bed of the F-150, and the ATV was the fun kind people used on beaches back in China.
The dealer handled delivery.
He figured they would be perfect for navigating the vineyard’s hilly terrain and for occasional off-roading fun.
He had planned to visit a gun store too, but California had some of the strictest gun laws in the country.
After hearing there would be tests, background checks, and waiting periods, he decided to put that dream on hold for now.
Back in the truck, he entered the vineyard’s address into the GPS and started driving.
The F-150 felt massive on the road.
Sitting high up gave him an excellent view, and the power surged the moment he touched the gas.
‘No wonder Americans love big trucks.’ At 1.81 meters tall, he still had plenty of headroom.
He noticed most vehicles on the highway were also pickups, and people drove noticeably faster than the posted 65 mph limit.
Not wanting to be left behind, he picked up the pace too.
Once he left the main highway and turned onto the two-lane road leading to his property, the scenery opened up beautifully.
It was mid-June.
The sun shone brightly against a deep blue sky dotted with low white clouds.
An Feng slowed down, soaking it all in.
Neat rows of vineyards stretched across rolling hills.
‘This is living,’ he thought, tapping his fingers to the country music on the radio.
“This weather is perfect for a convertible!” he muttered with a grin.
In the distance, his mansion sat proudly on the hilltop, surrounded by hundreds of acres that now belonged to him.
He drove slowly up the winding road, taking in the magnificent view.
He backed the truck into the garage, then wandered through the front yard to properly appreciate it this time.
Soft green lawn, palm trees, and neatly trimmed shrubs created a peaceful atmosphere.
‘Maybe I should get a couple of dogs to run around here.’ The house was wide and luxurious—two stories but very spacious, with seven bedrooms and nine bathrooms.
Light wooden floors, oil paintings, and mounted elk heads gave it a calm, somewhat mature atmosphere.
A large home theater on the first floor could seat twenty people with luxurious recliners.
When An Feng tested the BOSE sound system in the dark, the audio quality nearly blew him away.
There was also a well-equipped gym, complete with weights, machines, and—interestingly—two stripper poles in front of floor-to-ceiling mirrors.
‘Previous owner had interesting taste…’ Overall, the house was impressive but felt a bit too formal and old-fashioned for a 25-year-old.
‘I’ll need to liven it up a bit.’ A car horn sounded outside.
An Feng went downstairs and saw a Chevrolet pickup parked at the gate.
Several people stepped out, including the older white man he remembered from the sale—Old John, the vineyard manager.
“Hi!” An Feng greeted them.
“Hello, Mr.
An!” Old John said warmly, his belly stretching his shirt.
“Everyone calls me Old John.
We saw you arrive and thought we’d come say hello.” “Please, come in,” An Feng invited them inside.
“Sorry, I just moved in and don’t have much prepared yet.” “No need to trouble yourself,” Old John replied.
“Mr.
An, we actually wanted to talk to you about the vineyard workers.” They sat down in the living room.
Old John explained the situation: when the previous owner went bankrupt, most employees left, but it was peak growing season.
Five loyal workers had stayed for three weeks without pay to keep the grapes from being ruined.
An Feng was surprised.
“They did that voluntarily?” Old John nodded.
“They couldn’t bear to watch the grapes they’d cared for go to waste.” An Feng didn’t hesitate.
“Calculate what they’re owed.
I’ll pay them, and anyone who wants to stay is more than welcome.” Old John blinked, then broke into a big smile.
“Mr.
An, that’s very generous!” “It’s only fair,” An Feng said, writing a check for twelve thousand US dollars on the spot and handing it over.
Old John and the other workers shook his hand enthusiastically, clearly moved.
An Feng wasn’t being purely altruistic.
He was new here and needed loyal people.
A good reputation would go a long way, and twelve thousand dollars was nothing compared to what he planned to earn later.
Looking at their grateful faces, he knew the money had bought more than just labor—it had bought goodwill.
“Old John, do we need more workers?” “Five full-time staff should be enough for now, plus about ten seasonal workers during harvest.
We can hire winemakers and cellar managers later.” An Feng nodded.
“Handle it as you see fit and keep me updated.” Word spread quickly among the employees.
That afternoon, many who had been preparing to leave returned with their belongings.
They lived in a comfortable two-story staff house down the hill.
While helping one of the workers move a box, An Feng peeked inside.
The rooms were decent, each with its own bathroom, and there was a shared kitchen and a small vegetable garden outside.
Later, An Feng rode an ATV with Old John through the vineyard to get a better understanding.
Over 300 acres was quite large for the region.
Most of the grapes were sold to other wineries, with only a small portion used for their own modest wine production.
The underground cellar had many empty oak barrels and just over a thousand bottles of average-quality red wine.
In short, this was currently more of a vineyard than a full winery.
The previous owner had mainly used it as a vacation retreat, which explained the stables, horse paddocks, and off-road trails.
An Feng was very satisfied.
This place had everything he needed for both business and enjoyment.
As he looked out over his new kingdom, a content smile spread across his face.
‘This really is the beginning of a good life.’