Chapter 744: A Patchwork War Rig

Why is everyone so quiet?

Because the car accident photos Duan Wanbo showed on his phone looked worse with every swipe. They pieced this current vehicle together using whatever parts they could salvage from several totaled cars.

An integrated steel-armored body, right?

Not quite. It’s actually a patchwork—usable shells from three different cars welded together, then ground down and painted so you can’t see the seams.

Seeing this kind of handiwork, Tang Huai suddenly recalled exactly who Duan Wanbo was. He led a crew specializing in scrapping and rebuilding cars. Everyone said his cars looked tough but couldn’t take real action.

Huo Lei crawled under the vehicle, tapping and testing for a good while. With Duan Wanbo’s permission, he even took off the newly reupholstered seat to check the chassis, then popped open the rear engine compartment for a look.

After spotting three blatant welding marks along the chassis and seeing a mishmash of old and new parts—some even cracked—in the engine bay, the lords finally accepted the truth. Beneath its shiny military exterior, this off-roader was a ticking time bomb—fancy outside, junk at heart.

Beaming with enthusiasm, Duan Wanbo pitched the car to Xia Qing. “Miss Xia, two-thirds of this body is original steel—thirteen millimeters thick. You’re an expert too, so just listen to how it sounds…”

He rapped his knuckles against the body. “Say what you will, but not even the Evolved Raptor’s claws—‘Hardness Evolution’ and all—could get through this shell. If you weren’t Old Yue’s friend, I wouldn’t let it go for less than 60,000 credits.”

“Only that section you tapped is steel, right?” Tang Huai mumbled. “And you want 60,000 credits? Only an idiot would buy it.”

Catching Tang Huai’s voice, Duan Wanbo turned with a grin. “If you don’t believe me, Little Director Tang, go ahead—tap it yourself, or measure it with your tools. If any of the car’s roof steel comes in under ten millimeters, I’ll give the whole car to you for free.”

Tang Huai snorted. “Wasn’t it thirteen millimeters just now? How’d it shrink by three all of a sudden?”

Duan Wanbo didn’t even flinch. “As I said, two-thirds is original. Just last month, a friend of yours in the Inner City took an 80,000-credit car off my hands—brand name and all, but I’ll keep it to myself. But between us, Miss Xia, that car didn’t hold a candle to this one for sheer practicality.”

Nobody had called him ‘Little Director Tang’ in ages. Tang Huai snorted. “He’s had his brain eaten by evolved bugs. He’s dumber than an idiot now.”

Huo Lei, who had carefully checked the car over, gave his verdict. “Duan’s workmanship is solid. The welds on the frame are tight, engine seems fine too. If it’s 30,000 credits, this one’s worth considering.”

“At least someone appreciates real skill!” Duan Wanbo chuckled. Truth was, the chassis had never broken; those welded seams were purely for show. The engine compartment had been artfully aged as well. Even blacksmiths like Huo Lei—and most in the trade—couldn’t tell the difference.

When Yue Haiying came to him ten days ago and asked him to ‘distress and disguise’ this vehicle, Duan Wanbo’s first thought was that the lord of Section Three, Xia Qing, had to be Old Yue’s own daughter.

Otherwise, why else would Yue Haiying—usually obsessed with his reputation—swallow his pride and beg everyone he could for help, just to get Xia Qing a car?

After hearing Yue Haiying say that all four of the herbs that saved Dazhi’s life were found by Xia Qing, Duan Wanbo didn’t let his own men touch the job. He locked himself in the garage and tinkered with the vehicle day and night.

Dazhi was his brother. If Xia Qing saved Dazhi’s life, it was as good as saving his own.

Face? That means nothing next to a brother’s life!

After negotiating follow-up repairs, Xia Qing bought the flashy secondhand combat vehicle on the spot for 30,000 credits, drawing wide-eyed stares—half puzzled, half envious—from the crowd.

The confusion? Well, everyone knew Xia Qing just forked over a pile of credits for a car that looked good but wasn’t worth much in action.

The envy? Last month, Xia Qing went out for a day’s bamboo shoot digging and made more than 10,000 credits. So for her, 30,000 credits was no big deal.

Once she paid, Hu Zifeng took the keys and drove with Xia Qing to drop Huo Lei off at Territory Eleven.

After crossing into his own territory, Huo Lei thumped the thick steel of the off-roader, grinning and giving Xia Qing a big thumbs-up. A secondhand car this good for just 36,000? No doubt, he’d scored a steal.

He was a soldier too. Looking at what Yue Haiying could accomplish, then thinking about his own son’s idiocy, Huo Lei’s temper shot through the roof.

With this off-roader, her second vehicle after the rotary tiller, Xia Qing couldn’t hide her smile or the light in her eyes.

Hu Zifeng, having done countless missions with Luo Pei, knew these military vehicles inside and out. The moment he got behind the wheel, he could tell this wasn’t some discards. Yue Haiying must’ve spent more than just 36,000 credits to get his hands on it.

But he kept those thoughts to himself.

After teaching Xia Qing how to drive, Hu Zifeng left Section Three. Xia Qing confidently drove the car near her house and hollered for her companion. “Old Goat! Old Goat!”

The Evolved Sheep, Old Goat, had already heard the commotion. Now that Xia Qing finally called, it dashed out from the yard, squinting as it sized up the hulking vehicle.

Xia Qing hopped down, beaming, and slapped the door. “Old Goat, this is our new ride! How about we take it for a spin together?”

Old Goat had ridden the rotary tiller so many times, it wasn’t fazed by cars at all. With Xia Qing sliding the passenger seat all the way back for more space, the ram clambered on board, twisting its spiral-horned head to survey every corner.

With her companion by her side, Xia Qing slowly cruised around her territory. “So, Old Goat? Pretty quiet, right? Stable? Comfy?”

“Baa!” Old Goat bleated, short and sharp, making its opinion clear. The seat was small, it had to stand the whole time, and there was no way to turn around—not happy at all!

It was true—she’d only been thinking about her own comfort. Xia Qing promised, “Let’s do two laps first, then we’ll head back and swap out the seat so you can properly ride in style.”

She’d never handled this kind of car before. But after watching Huo Lei work on the seats at Territory Fifteen’s North Gate, Xia Qing—who was always good with her hands—had picked it up quickly.

“Baa!” Old Goat complained again.

“Alright, let’s head back now and switch it out,” Xia Qing said with a laugh. Cautiously, she turned the car around, drove home, pulled out the passenger seat, took measurements for the shock-absorbing base, grabbed her tools, and started cutting into her stash of steel plates to weld Old Goat’s exclusive seat.

Old Goat’s custom seat didn’t need a backrest, just plenty of space so it could sprawl out in comfort. After welding the seat base together, Xia Qing bolted a wooden board on top, fixed a super-thick seat cushion for Old Goat, and installed the whole contraption right onto the shock-absorption mount where the passenger seat had been.

The noise of slicing into the steel plates carried all the way to Territory Two. On the lords’ channel, Tang Huai cracked a joke: “Why’s Xia Qing cutting up steel? Don’t tell me that clunker’s already busted and needs a patch job? Duan’s still over at Territory Fifteen, you know. It’s not too late to demand a refund!”

“Pfft!” Over in Territory Fourteen, Feng Wen, sweeping her stinky little house at a snail’s pace, chuckled at Xia Qing’s expense.

In Territory Fifteen, Duan Wanbo sipped tea brewed by an old war buddy, smiling. “Tang Huai wouldn’t have survived eleven years of disasters if not for his dad’s efforts.”

Tang Huai called out again, “Xia Qing, Xia Qing! Did you forget to turn on your walkie-talkie?”

Zhang San logged in sounding half-asleep. “Tang Huai, shut up.”

“Yes, sir.” Tang Huai fell silent right away.

Duan Wanbo whispered to Yue Haiying, “That’s her, isn’t it?”

Yue Haiying nodded.

Back in Section Three, Xia Qing gripped the steering wheel with a grin. Old Goat, stretched out on its special seat, was clearly enjoying the ride too. The two of them cruised all over, as blissful as could be.

This ‘junk’ car? Compared to the rotary tiller, this was a dream come true!