Charlie smiled and remarked, “In that case, there’s no need to call him. We can head straight there and surprise him!”


    “Okay!” Arman eagerly agreed, his face lighting up with excitement. He couldn’t help but share with Charlie, “To be honest, I’ve always thought of Gunbir as my son. It’s been a while since Ist saw him, and I can’t shake the feeling of sadness. I really miss him.”


    Charlie understoodpletely.


    Arman had faced a tough life in the United States. While things had improved in the past few years with Fang Jiaxin by his side, allowing him to enjoy life a bit more, everything changed after she left. Now, he found himself grappling with the harsh reality of being an illegal immigrant, running a modest roast goose shop and living a life filled with hardship and despair.


    For Arman, Gunbir was more than just an adopted orphan or a mere employee; he represented a vital source of hope and purpose.<h3 style="background-color:DodgerBlue">


    …<fn940f> ?????? ???? F?nd-Novel</fn940f>


    After leaving the airport, Charlie quickly rented a nondescript Chevrolet and drove to Chinatown with Arman.


    This time around, Charlie chose not to make any arrangements or inform anyone in the United States about his visit—not even Fei Kexin. He believed that maintaining a low profile would not only ensure safety but also make it easier to uncover hidden truths in the market. As they drove through familiar streets, they arrived at Arman’s roast goose shop, which was still operating.


    After parking, Arman couldn’t contain his excitement and immediately opened the car door.


    Upon entering the roast goose shop, they were taken aback by its emptiness. Only one person upied one of the many dining tables—Gunbir. As he worked in the kitchen, he heard their arrival and called out, “Feel free to sit wherever you like! We’ll be with you shortly!”


    A few momentster, he emerged from the kitchen carrying a te of roast goose rice.


    Seeing Arman and Charlie, he paused in surprise, eximing, “Uncle Arman! Mr. Wade… what brings you here?!”


    Arman was beaming and about to greet him when he noticed Gunbir’s face was marred with bruises and purple scars, with cuts at the corners of his mouth that had formed dark scabs. Shocked, he asked, “Gunbir, what happened to your face?!” Gunbir instinctively turned his head away while attending to the guests, hesitating to respond. “It’s nothing, Uncle Arman… I just had a little ident while trying to ride a motorcycle coolly a few days ago…”


    Arman immediately countered, “No way! That doesn’t look like an injury from falling off a motorcycle! Just take a look in the mirror at those panda eyes. It’s obvious someone punched you! And the cuts at the corners of your mouth… if I hadn’t pped you pretty hard, you wouldn’t have those! Now tell me—what happened?”


    Gunbir quietly insisted, “Uncle Arman… my injuries really aren’t from a beating…”


    He then nced at the clock, realizing it was already past nine o’clock. Quickly, he added, “Hey, Uncle Arman! You didn’t let me know you wereing, so I could have picked you up at the airport. Since it’s gettingte, why don’t I close the shop and take you and Mr. Wade to find a ce to stay?”


    Without waiting for Arman to respond, he turned to the remaining guest and said, “I’m really sorry, but I need to close early today. I’ll pack your meal for you, and it’s on the house. Is that okay?”


    The guest nodded in agreement, but Arman frowned and pressed, “Gunbir, you need to tell me the truth. Are you in some kind of trouble?”


    Just then, the low rumble of motorcycles echoed from outside, growing louder by the second.


    Gunbir’s expression shifted to one of panic. He quickly urged, “Uncle Arman, Mr. Wade, I need to handle something. Please go upstairs and stay out of sight for a while!”