“Young Master! If one more trainload of fish pulls into the station, I’m going to have to stuff them under my mattress!”
Hong Ling stood on top of a thirty-foot stack of wooden crates inside Dry-Well Central Space Station, waving her two fused laser-cleavers in the air. Her round face was red with stress, and three shiny silver ledger books were tucked under her arm.
Down on the platform below, Old Guo was wiping sweat from his forehead with a kitchen towel while staring at fifty freight cars packed to the roof with fresh food.
“She’s not lying, Young Master,” Old Guo called out, patting his big round belly. “Green-Sprout Star is harvesting Dragon-Marrow Beef-Wheat three times a week now. The Banyan Tree-King’s hollow trunk is completely full, and the extra fifty million tons of sweet spirit-peaches and red-bean paste have nowhere to go! And look at Track Four—Warm-Spring Star just sent another two hundred cars of boneless spirit-butter-fish. If we don’t find a giant icebox in the next two days, all this top-grade fish is going to turn into smelly fish soup!”
Pei Xuan walked down the station steps sipping a cold green bottle of Dry-Well Healing Soda. Behind him, Old Wei carried a basket of freshly steamed beef buns, while Abacus Su was frantically clicking his three-foot jade abacus.
