Super Zoo

Thirty thousand feet in the air, the plane weaved through clouds.

In the first class cabin, there were Suming, Zhao Yun, and Nangong Huang.

Suming hadn't specifically asked Zhao Yun how he had persuaded Zhaoqian to let him go on this trip, probably with sweet nothings and a barrage of passionate persuasion, finishing off with some talk about life and ideals, topped with grand principles like "a man's ambition"... Anyway, that's how he did it, and if he wasn't mistaken, Zhao Yun's methods were likely quite similar; when it came to this, the wisdom of men was universal.

Nangong Huang clutched a paper bag, vomiting and utterly disoriented.

Suming was seeing a live example of 'air sickness' for the first time and watched with great interest, even occasionally asking how he felt... Among the three, Zhao Yun seemed to be the most appealing; the plane had not even left the country when Suming saw two flight attendants using excuses like "checking seatbelts" to strike up conversations with Zhao Yun.

According to service regulations, cabin crew should definitely not disturb passengers or engage in unnecessary banter, but Suming, unless blind, could see those two flight attendants had almost grown peach blossoms in their eyes when they looked at Zhao Yun.

Zhao Yun, quite the charmer, asked one of the tall, leggy flight attendants for help reaching something from his luggage on her third 'safety belt check'—a photo frame with a family portrait. Then the flight attendant stopped concerning herself with his seatbelt.

Once the flight attendants stopped bothering him, Zhao Yun became engrossed in a magazine. Suming leaned over to peek and saw it was full of Arabic script with dots and circles.

"You know Arabic?" Despite having acclimated to Zhao Yun's erudition, Suming was still surprised.

"Strictly speaking, I speak Arabic better than English!" Zhao Yun said, then recited in rounded Arabic phonetics, looking up, "Allahu Akbar!"

"What does that mean?"

"In the East, it's Amitabha; in the West, praise the Lord; and in Arabia, long live the Almighty!" Zhao Yun repeated like chanting a scripture, "Remember this phrase; it might help in times of danger if you say it."

"Oh." Suming murmured the phrase a few times. Nangong Huang, who had nothing left to vomit, also followed suit, muttering that those words somehow sounded like a boss from a Magical Beast dungeon.

"We should only say this among ourselves; don't ever say it to the locals. When in someone else's territory, we must respect their customs and beliefs," Suming said earnestly. He remembered that in the Arab World, people's beliefs were incredibly devout, and any disrespect towards the Almighty could lead to serious confrontation, given that Nangong Huang compared the Almighty to a game boss.

Frightened, Nangong Huang shrank back and pouted, "Got it, but I mean, the locals won't understand what I'm saying anyway. Mr. Zhao, you are truly erudite; even Arabic is within your grasp!"

Zhao Yun smiled, "Never underestimate Arabic. It's the mother tongue of over 200 million people globally and is the language of religious practice for one and a half billion Muslims. I deal with antiques, and during the medieval period, Arabic was one of the languages of scholarly and cultural communication across the civilized world. The splendor of ancient Babylon was not lesser than that of Huaxia, with a brilliant civilization and relics worth studying."

"Mr. Zhao, I've heard that Arabs, like the Hui people, don't eat pork?" Nangong Huang asked curiously.

With nothing better to do on the plane, Zhao Yun began to explain some taboos of the Arab region to Suming and the others.@@novelbin@@

For instance, regarding Nangong Huang's question about pork, the Quran records that three kinds of food are impure: carrion, blood, and pork, meaning that those who follow the Quran don't consume these. Pigs are particularly interesting; though science has proven they have high intelligence, in the Arab region, pigs have always been seen as a combination of ugliness, greed, stupidity, filth, and promiscuity.

"Additionally," Zhao Yun said with a smile, "it's said that pigs only have one tendon in their necks, which prevents them from looking up to the sky or turning their heads back. The Arab people value the concept of repentance, but this particular trait of pigs goes against their lifestyle habits, which is another reason why they don't eat pork."

Nangong Huang and Suming, as if on cue, subconsciously reached to feel the backs of their own necks.

Besides pork, the Shiite Sect in southern Iraq doesn't eat rabbit meat, they eat with their right hand, universally considering the left hand to be unclean, not to be used for shaking hands or passing food; if invited to a meal, one must eat quickly and leave right after finishing, otherwise, the host may think you're displaying greed…

"What if I'm left-handed?" Nangong Huang waved his left hand.

Zhao Yun just laughed without answering him and then seriously added, "Also, remember never to speak casually with strange women on the streets! Doing so might get the woman talking to you killed."

"What a bizarre place. If Yangchuan City were like this, there probably wouldn't be a woman left in the whole city," Nangong Huang muttered.

They were still talking when a commotion suddenly erupted from the economy class behind them.

Two people were arguing loudly about something, their voices so loud that they could be heard clearly even through the excellent soundproofing of the first-class cabin.

A flight attendant emerged from the rest area, hurried through the first-class cabin, and headed towards the economy class. Suming and Nangong Huang, both bored out of their minds, didn't think twice before unbuckling their seatbelts, eager to go see what had happened.

"Gentlemen, please stay in your seats," the flight attendant stopped, turned around, and blocked them. Her tone was gentle, but her attitude was firm; an airplane was no place for square dancing or watching a ruckus unfold.

Zhao Yun came up from behind, flashing an enchantingly charming smile: "Miss, I speak a bit of Arabic, maybe I can be of some assistance."

Find exclusive stories on My Virtual Library Empire

The flight attendants on this flight all spoke Arabic, with or without Zhao Yun made no difference, but upon seeing him, the attendant hesitated a moment before nodding, then turned her doubtful gaze to Suming and Nangong Huang, "Alright, then you come with me. These two…"

"We're together," Zhao Yun said in a voice so gentle it could drown someone.

"Oh… okay…" the flight attendant seemed as if she had been enchanted, subconsciously nodding again and then turned to lead the way to the economy class.

Zhao Yun shrugged at the dumbfounded Suming and Nangong Huang, with an expression that said 'it was nothing,' and took the lead.

Nangong Huang gave a thumbs-up from behind, patting Suming's shoulder: "Brother-in-law, you need to step up your game!"

"Let's both try harder!" Suming said with a wistful tone.

They quickly reached the economy class and saw two men, both with distinct Arab features, in a heated dispute in the aisle near the back of the plane.

One was dark and thin, not even reaching one meter seventy in height, while the other was tall with a face full of Big Beard, strong as a black bear.