I'm a Master in India

By April, temperatures in Mumbai exceeding 30 degrees Celsius were commonplace.

At midday, the streets were deserted except for a few scattered vendors; tourists and pedestrians had all sought refuge from the heat.

After buying a freshly opened coconut for 1 rupee, Ron strolled leisurely through the streets.

Everywhere, there were street food vendors offering yogurt, jelly, fruit salad, and mixed soda drinks, all displayed in the open air on mobile handcarts.

The sweltering heat always made people want to have a bite to cool down.

But, hey, this is India; you can't look too closely.

The plates were covered in flies, the grime on the bottom of the pots was thicker than the pots themselves, and the water buckets for washing cups were murky.

Clean and hygienic? Even Ron, a local, didn't dare, even though his stomach had adapted to these conditions.

After much deliberation, a freshly peeled coconut seemed the most reliable option. Puncture a hole, insert a straw, and it's a delight.

Speaking of which, there were a lot of vendors selling drinks on the streets of India, even some selling well water.

Those slum children, carrying buckets and holding cups, would approach passersby and try to sell their wares.

Fifteen paise a cup, and quite a few people bought it.

The weather in India was really too hot; people needed to hydrate constantly when they were out and about, or they risked dehydration.

Over time, vendors selling coconuts, sugarcane juice, soda, milk tea, and well water sprung up everywhere.

While surveying the streets, Ron was also planning his business.

Anand was taking care of things at the Victoria Station office, and after more than half a month, he was already able to handle the office's operations.

It's just that there weren't enough people yet, especially guides who could introduce the local customs and culture in English.

Why would tourists choose the Mumbai Tourism Information Company over the freelancers at the train station?

Wasn't it because their service was top-notch, providing a one-stop service for food, accommodation, transportation, and sightseeing? Tourists could simply order from the brochure.

On the other hand, the local Indians were cunning, greedy, and loved to take small advantages; bargaining was happening almost all the time.

Ron saved tourists from this process. While other vendors were still haggling, he had already finalized the arrangements for the next few days, simple and efficient.

However, there were also problems. The company was just starting out, and many things were chaotic.

Even though he already had a dozen people working for him, he didn't even have a proper office space.

And there were also businesses that couldn't be openly displayed, and the tourism industry involved more than Ron had imagined.

All commissions, and he wanted them all.

"Hey! Ron?"

Ron, who was lost in thought, paused for a moment before realizing someone was calling him.

"Johnny?"

"That's right, it's me."

Inside a yellow taxi on the side of the road, Johnny was sitting in the back row with a grin.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm recovering well, come on, get in and have a seat."

Ron threw the empty coconut shell to the side of the road and climbed into the car; they were old friends.

"I haven't seen you around lately?"

"I've been busy with business; you know, I'm now making a living off foreigners."

"Hadebhai admires you; he says you're a truly smart person."

"He probably has a good impression of me because of what happened last time."

"No, it's not like that. Hadebhai never praises people easily."

Whenever he mentioned this name, Johnny's eyes would burst with a kind of almost worshipful admiration.

Ron was surprised by this emotion, especially coming from the burly Johnny.

"Your wound looks like it's almost healed, but be careful not to tear it open; otherwise, it's easy to get infected."

"Thank you, Ron; I owe you a great favor."

"We're friends."

"That's right, very good friends!" Johnny happily bumped his fist against his shoulder.

"Be careful, don't always get yourself into a mess; I should go back."

"Ron, Hadebhai asked me to say sorry on his behalf when I met you."

"Why?" Ron was a little strange.

"About your parents. He said that you were born into different religious families, but that doesn't affect each other becoming friends."

"I'm glad he thinks so; my parents' affairs can't be blamed on any one person."

"I knew it, Ron. You are a good person; he also wants to see you again."

"Now?"

"No, no need to rush. When you have time, call me in advance."

"Okay, I will."

The taxi carrying Johnny drove away with a roar, and Ron stood on the street frowning and pondering.

Mumbai was indeed a mixed bag; Hadebhai had already checked his background.

Ron had expected this since the first time he participated in a black market transaction.

As for why Johnny was asked to apologize on his behalf, he also had a general idea.

Ron came from a Hindu family, and Hadebhai was most likely from a Muslim background.

This can be seen from their surnames: one implies the meaning of God, and the other is a Muslim aristocratic surname of Turkic origin.

The conflict between these two religions in India has lasted for hundreds or thousands of years.

But whether it's Ron or Hadebhai, they are not extreme religious figures.

They are businessmen, the kind who can put faith behind profit.

Hadebhai's message through Johnny subtly expressed goodwill, and of course he would not refuse.

As for investigating his background, was this anything strange? He had been in Mumbai for less than two years, and anyone who wanted to investigate could easily find out everything; there was nothing to hide.

It's just that the deep meaning of his invitation to meet was, Ron guessed, still related to the foreign exchange black market.

The rupee had been falling recently, and foreign currency would naturally become more popular.

Wealthy people were unwilling to watch their wealth shrink, and the first place they thought of was the black market.

It seemed that the Mumbai Tourism Information Company had already attracted the attention of some people, after all, he had so many foreign customers.

Tsk, trouble is coming.

…

"Nia, how are the accounts coming along?"

"Baba~" Nia happily dropped her pen and ran over to get him a wet towel.

Just wandering around outside for a while, Ron's back was already soaked.

Wiping off the sweat and then being blown by the ceiling fan above, so comfortable!

It's a pity that there is no refrigerator in the apartment, otherwise, licking a popsicle would be even better.

"Baba, look, these are the accounts I've sorted out." Nia handed him the account book as if asking for credit.

"Yes, not bad. Our little Nia, beautiful and smart."

Hehe, as long as the master is happy.

Habitually scratching her little nose, Ron lay back on the rattan chair, bringing out a series of creaks.

In the past ten days or so, the Mumbai Tourism Information Company had received nearly a hundred foreign tourists.

Thirty or forty contracts had also been signed. Tourists rarely traveled alone, and most traveled in groups of two or three.

About half of these orders had already received commissions. According to the original negotiation agreement, Ron would reconcile the accounts once a week.

Oh, Nia calculated it very carefully, and the items of income and expenditure are clear at a glance.