My Strange Tale Love Strategy Simulator

Although they didn't know why a bartender in a small American West tavern could speak Chinese, Zhang Ying and Shen Yugang still went into the tavern.

Zhang Ying looked around the tavern. Four or five cowboys covered in dust sat on old, damp wooden chairs. They had been laughing and drinking together, but as Zhang Ying and Shen Yugang entered the tavern, their attention shifted to the two of them.

Those gazes held ill intentions and discrimination, but even more so, confusion.

They wondered what the two Chinese men were wearing and why they were so clean.

Shen Yugang felt extremely uncomfortable under those gazes, like a lamb being stared at by several hungry wolves, and a chill ran down his spine.

He subconsciously moved closer to Zhang Ying, glancing at the cowboys out of the corner of his eye. He saw one of them slowly placing his hand on the revolver at his waist, his fingers gently stroking the handle.

Shen Yugang nudged Zhang Ying with his elbow and whispered, "Brother Ying, why are those people looking at us so strangely?"

Zhang Ying remained calm. He slowly surveyed the tavern's furnishings and said in a low voice, "If I'm not mistaken, this should be the 19th century. Large numbers of Chinese people went to the American West to build roads and mine, and anti-Chinese sentiment was quite strong. They were naturally unhappy that we entered the tavern, but because we were so clean, they probably couldn't determine our background for the time being."

Shen Yugang nodded. Although he was still nervous, Zhang Ying's analysis gave him some confidence. He tried to straighten his back to appear less guilty, but his slightly trembling hands betrayed him.

The bartender asked again, "What would you two like to drink?"

This is a difficult problem.

Zhang Ying had no money on him, but leaving like this would easily arouse suspicion.

So, after some thought, he said:

"I am the clerk in charge of translating for the caravan. Our caravan is resting on the road, and in order to find a place to stay before dark, I came to this town ahead of time to inquire about some things. If you can answer my questions, our caravan will definitely hold a grand celebration at your tavern."

The lie almost slipped out. Zhang Ying calmly looked at the bartender in front of him, wanting to see his response.

Shen Yugang, who was standing to the side, was astonished. He hadn't expected Zhang Ying to be able to fabricate an identity in such a short time. He opened his mouth, then quickly closed it again, afraid of giving himself away.

However, he had some doubts about whether this identity was feasible. So he looked nervously at the bartender.

The tavern was quiet for a few seconds.

The bartender stared into Zhang Ying's eyes, and the atmosphere around them gradually became oppressive. His cloudy eyes revealed no emotion as he scrutinized Zhang Ying from head to toe, from his young face to his clean clothes and spotless shoes.

After a moment of silence, the bartender nodded and said, "My friend, what would you like to ask? I'd be happy to answer your questions. What would you like to drink? It's on me."

Shen Yugang breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly slumping. He quietly wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, feeling his heart finally fall back into his chest.

As if he had expected this, Zhang Ying nodded slightly and said, "My caravan still needs me to meet them. I don't want to get drunk. Just give me and my friend two glasses of milk."

Behind them, the few cowboys with ill intentions clicked their tongues and looked away.

The bartender turned around, took a glass bottle from the shelf behind him, poured out two glasses of milky white liquid, and pushed them in front of Zhang Ying.

Zhang Ying glanced down at the two glasses of milk. Water droplets still clung to the sides of the glasses. The milk was yellowish in color and looked rather thick, completely different from the milk sold in modern supermarkets.

He picked up the cup, brought it to his nose, and smelled it. A faint fishy smell mixed with some indescribable sour and rotten odor entered his nostrils.

Zhang Ying took a small sip.

The milk tasted cloyingly sweet, unbelievably so, as if several spoonfuls of cheap syrup had been added to it; the sweetness completely masked any flavor of the milk itself.

The aftertaste was a mixture of tobacco and whiskey, I don’t know if it was because the glass wasn’t clean or if the milk had been sitting next to the barrel and had been tainted by the smell.

The strange taste, a mixture of sweetness and bitterness, exploded on the tip of his tongue, causing Zhang Ying to unconsciously furrow his brow.

He took only one sip and then put the cup down.

Shen Yugang wasn't that particular, or rather, he simply didn't care to appreciate the taste of the milk.

He picked up the cup and gulped down several mouthfuls, drinking half of it in one go. Milk overflowed from the corner of his mouth and dripped down his chin, but he didn't bother to wipe it away, just hastily wiping it with his sleeve.

Zhang Ying coughed lightly, gently pushed his glass away, crossed his hands on the bar, looked directly at the bartender, and asked, "When I arrived, the town was deserted. Where are all the people in town? Where did they all go?"

This is a question he's always wanted to ask.

"This...I..."

Upon hearing this, the bartender stammered, seemingly unwilling to answer the question.

He lowered his head, picked up the cup he had wiped before, and began wiping it repeatedly.

The cup had been polished to a shine, almost reflecting a person's image, but he kept polishing it, as if the question would disappear on its own if he didn't answer.

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back.

This made Zhang Ying realize something was amiss.

The bartender's reaction was very strange. If this were just a normal setting in a movie world, where the town was empty simply because the NPCs hadn't been generated, the bartender should have made up some excuse instead of being unable to utter a single word like this.

That hesitant attitude, that evasive look, clearly indicated that he was hiding something.

Zhang Ying was about to press further.

Just then.

The sound of horses' hooves rang out from outside the tavern.

Everyone in the tavern looked up at the entrance.

Immediately afterwards, the wooden door was pushed open violently.

A rugged man wearing a wide-brimmed hat, a plaid shirt, a leather vest, and jeans strode into the tavern.

He pushed the door open with great force, and the door slammed against the wall with a dull thud, causing dust to fall from the door frame.

He looks exactly like a typical cowboy from a Western movie.

With his arrival, the oppressive atmosphere in the tavern completely changed.

The tense atmosphere had vanished, replaced by a relaxed and lively one.

Several cowboys waved and greeted him, some whistled, and others shouted his name.

"My God, you have no idea how dangerous my day was."

As he spoke, the cowboy strode over to the bar, took off his hat and casually hung it on the coat rack next to him, revealing his brown curly hair, which was soaked with sweat.

His face still bore the marks of the wind and sand, his lips were chapped, but his eyes shone with an astonishing brightness, sparkling with the excitement of surviving a disaster.

"Those Native Americans hung me on a tree to hang me, but luckily the goddess of fortune smiled on me, and the branch broke when those bastards left, so I survived."

He spoke with great enthusiasm, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, as if he were recreating the scene.

"But even more fortunately, when I came back I also found a stray horse. Do you want to know where the horse's owner is?"

As he spoke, the cowboy turned to the bartender and said, "If you can give me a glass of rum, I might tell you where its owner is."

The bartender, his face grim, said to the cowboy, "Jack, if you don't have any money left, I swear I'll kiss your ass with my shoe and kick you out of the bar."

"Who said I'm broke?"

Jack snorted, pulled a gold bean from the worn-out leather bag at his waist, and slammed it hard onto the bar.

"Give me a glass of the finest rum, you boring fellow."

Jack shoved the gold beans at the bartender, his tone brimming with a triumphant smugness.

The bartender's eyes lit up as he looked at the gold bean, his coldness instantly replaced by enthusiasm. He grabbed the gold bean, bit it, and after confirming it was real gold, his smile became even brighter.

He immediately poured Jack a large glass of fine rum, the liquid amber in color, which swirled gently in the glass, releasing a rich aroma.

Jack picked up his glass and gulped down the rum, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He'd finished most of the glass in just a few sips.

He wiped his mouth with satisfaction, let out a long breath, and then noticed Zhang Ying and Shen Yugang beside him.

"I never expected that two Chinese friends would come to this tavern."

He looked the two of them up and down, his gaze lingering on their clean clothes for a few seconds before he grinned, revealing a set of fairly even teeth.

"So? Do you want to know how the horse's owner is doing?"

Jack spoke warmly, completely unlike the hostility and discrimination he displayed with the cowboys.

His smile was sincere and frank, and his eyes were so clear that he didn't look like a cowboy living in the western wilderness.

Zhang Ying declined, saying, "Sorry, we don't have any money on us."

He didn't want to have much interaction with this cowboy, at least not right now.

"Don't worry, consider this story my treat."

Jack seemed to have something to say.

He took another swig of rum, slammed the glass on the bar, wiped the rum stains from the corner of his mouth, and then spoke.

"That poor guy had his head scalped by the Indians, and his body and horse were left in the wilderness. I kindly buried him behind a rock, and his bag and horse ended up in my hands."

"This is the West, this is the cowboy."

Jack remarked to himself.

Zhang Ying could only awkwardly smile at this chatterbox.

Meanwhile, Shen Yugang nudged Zhang Ying hard with his elbow and whispered in a very serious tone, "Brother Ying, you're here!"

"What's here?"

Zhang Ying frowned slightly and turned his head to look at Shen Yugang.

"The main character has arrived!" Shen Yugang lowered his voice, but the excitement in his tone was impossible to hide. "This Jack is the protagonist of this Western, and the story is told from his first-person perspective!"

Zhang Ying nodded, his face remaining expressionless, but his mind was racing with calculations.

He turned around to face Jack again, his smile becoming more natural.

"There's an old saying: 'Those who survive a great calamity are destined for good fortune.' It seems Lady Luck played a little trick on you, only to reward you handsomely. Such luck is truly enviable!"

Jack immediately adjusted his wide-brimmed hat and said with a smile, "I've always been lucky. If I really meet Lady Luck, I swear I'll give her a passionate kiss!"

Zhang Ying quickly closed the distance between herself and Jack with a single sentence, and the two chatted and laughed heartily.

Jack patted Zhang Ying's shoulder familiarly, his hand strong enough to make Zhang Ying's shoulder sag slightly.

He began to recount his past "glorious achievements" at length, such as how much money he had won at the gambling table, what kinds of wild animals he had encountered in the wilderness, and how many people he had fought with in bars.

He embellished each story with exaggerated detail, but his earnest expression and serious tone only made it more amusing.

Zhang Ying used this opportunity to observe Jack.

The man in front of me was humorous and witty, with the typical rugged features of a Western man.

With a high nose bridge, deep-set eyes, and a sharply defined jawline, paired with blue eyes and brown curly hair, he would be considered handsome in any era.

However, his inherent demeanor gave him an air of cowardice.

Jack's appearance does indeed resemble that of a protagonist in a Western cowboy comedy film.

As he was observing Jack, his gaze unconsciously drifted to Jack's neck.

Zhang Ying's pupils suddenly contracted.

A red rash and pustules appeared on Jack's neck, spreading in patches from his Adam's apple down to where his collar was.

The abscesses varied in size and gleamed disgustingly under the light.

And this rash was spreading rapidly, climbing up Jack's face.

Zhang Ying's heart skipped a beat. Before he could even react, he watched as the red rash crawled over Jack's chin.

But soon, the rash and pustules disappeared as if they had never existed.

Jack's neck was back to its previous state, clean and without any trace of anything. His cheeks were also smooth as before, showing no abnormality.

Everything happened in an instant, so fast it seemed like Zhang Ying's illusion.

Zhang Ying's shock caught Jack's attention.

Jack stopped his rambling explanation, looked at Zhang Ying with a puzzled expression, and then followed Zhang Ying's gaze, touching his own neck.

"Hey buddy, is there something on my neck?" Jack asked, touching it as he spoke, his tone a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

He ran his hand over his neck several times, but found nothing.

Zhang Ying took a deep breath, suppressed the shock in his heart, and a smile reappeared on his face.

"It's nothing, I probably just misread it. Sorry, I was a little distracted."

As he spoke, he stood up from the bar and straightened his clothes.

"My caravan still needs me to go back and pull it. It's getting late, so I have to go. It was a pleasure meeting you, Jack."

As Zhang Ying spoke, he gave Shen Yugang a wink.

Although Shen Yugang didn't understand what had happened, he immediately put down his milk glass and stood up.

The two turned around and, amidst Jack's "Goodbye, buddy" and the bartender's silent gaze, quickly walked out of the pub.