The next day, An Feng called a professional housekeeping service to thoroughly clean the mansion, mow the lawn, and disinfect the swimming pool.
The house had sat empty for at least a month, and he had no idea about the previous owner’s hygiene habits.
Better safe than sorry.
He also called his paid concierge secretary.
“Hey Lei, go ahead with the decoration plan we discussed last night.
Replace the living room furniture, appliances, and sofa with the best options.
Yes, top tier.
Send the bill to me.
You can start right away.” At nine o’clock, just as Joanna arrived for their lesson, the housekeeping team showed up in two uniformly branded vans.
After they got out, one of the supervisors came over to discuss the details.
With Joanna’s translation, An Feng managed to clearly explain what he wanted.
Two workers in full waterproof suits began scrubbing the empty swimming pool.
Joanna wandered around the backyard and came back impressed.
“The location of this pool is fantastic.
You can lie there and enjoy one of the best views in the area.
The infinity edge design is incredible!” An Feng felt a surge of pride.
“If you like it, feel free to use it anytime.” Joanna stood on her tiptoes to look into the pool and smiled.
“Thank you.
I might take you up on that.” An Feng had only said it as polite Chinese courtesy, but she accepted readily.
Curious, he asked, “Can I ask you a personal question?” “Go ahead.” “For a beautiful woman like you, didn’t you worry about my character before applying for this job?” Joanna raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?
Are you saying you’re a creepy middle-aged pervert?” “What?” An Feng’s mouth fell open.
“Hahaha!” Joanna covered her mouth and laughed.
“Sorry, I was just teasing you.
I wanted to see your reaction.” An Feng recovered and asked seriously, “But really — aren’t you worried about working for a stranger?” Joanna turned and walked back inside.
She went straight to the sofa, picked up her handbag, and pulled out a small pistol, shaking it playfully.
“I have my own secret weapon.” “Fuck me…” An Feng muttered in Chinese, genuinely shocked.
Joanna looked delicate and elegant, yet here she was carrying a gun in her bag.
“The Walther P99C,” she explained proudly.
“Compact 9mm, ten-round magazine, less than fourteen centimeters long.
Perfect for a woman who values portability.” An Feng stared at the small pistol with open envy.
As a casual military enthusiast, he recognized it immediately.
‘The successor to James Bond’s famous PPK…’ “Show me!” he said eagerly.
“NO!” Joanna put it away with a grin.
“Rule number one: never lend your gun to anyone unless you trust them enough to take the blame if something goes wrong.
Also, in America, never lend your woman, your car, or your money.” The envy on An Feng’s face was unmistakable.
Joanna noticed.
“If you like guns so much, you should buy some.” “But doesn’t California have strict gun laws?
Where do I take the test?” An Feng asked.
“For long guns, your green card is usually enough.
For handguns, you need the HSC — Handgun Safety Certificate.
Don’t worry, I can tutor you.
One hour and you’ll pass.” An Feng sat across from her and listened carefully as Joanna explained the basics.
She made it surprisingly simple.
“Have you ever fired a gun before?” she asked.
“A few rounds with a Type 81 — basically an AK-47 copy.” “That makes it easier to explain…” Within the hour, An Feng felt confident.
Seeing his excitement, Joanna offered to take him to a local gun store.
“Going in person is the best way to learn.” They drove An Feng’s F-150 to Paso Robles, the nearest decent-sized town.
From the outside, the gun store looked like any ordinary shop.
But the moment they pushed open the door, An Feng was stunned.
It was like stepping into a paradise for gun enthusiasts.
Long guns lined the walls, handguns gleamed in glass display cases, and shelves were stacked high with boxes of ammunition.
Two men casually pushed a shopping cart, loading it with ammo like it was groceries.
On the other side, tactical clothing, boots, and outdoor gear filled more shelves.
“Feel free to browse,” Joanna said.
“You can even test fire at the range in the back.” An Feng’s eyes lit up.
He had only seen this kind of freedom in movies.
He picked several popular models — AR-15s, SCARs, Glocks, Berettas — and took them to the indoor range with Joanna’s guidance.
At first, his aim was terrible.
But with the machine brain helping him process feedback and Joanna correcting his stance, he improved rapidly.
After half an hour, he was hitting targets consistently.
“You learn ridiculously fast!” Joanna said, clearly impressed.
“If I hadn’t seen you missing everything earlier, I’d think you were ex-military.” An Feng struck a dramatic pose with a Beretta 92F.
“How’s this look?
Take a picture!” Joanna laughed and snapped a few photos with her phone.
They spent over two hours at the range.
An Feng was in heaven.
When they finally returned to the counter, he told the salesman, “I want a Remington 870 shotgun with tactical upgrades — polymer stock, pistol grip, red dot sight.
Also, a Colt 1911 in .45 caliber.” The salesman noted everything down.
“And for the handgun, you’ll need to take the HSC test.
It’s a short video and quiz.
We can do it right now.” An Feng nodded eagerly.
This was just the beginning.