Section 49 The task of earning a living

It took Lando more than half a year to get used to life on this plane—he was fluent in Italian and pretended to be a nobleman, and he quietly hired a ship to return to Dongsha Island. The fishing boat was unharmed, and he managed to sneak in, taking out some guns and ammunition for his own use, as well as a couple of emergency kits, which contained priceless modern medicines.

Change is both a disaster and a new opportunity. Once Lando settled down, he began to think about his future.

In this strange time and space, it is always no problem to rely on your skills and the guns in your hands to make a worry-free living. But he was a little unwilling to go on like this.

What about going to Europe? Lando quickly dismissed the idea: he was an American with little idea of Europe. Thousands of miles back, what do you do for a living? The United States will not exist yet, of course you can be an immigrant yourself, but it is too bitter.

Lando thought about floating the ship, relying on these guns and motor boats, it would be good to be a pirate himself, and the galleons of Manila would bring a large amount of silver every year, a considerable part of which went to Macau to buy various goods from the Chinese. The Jesuits were also actively involved, and Landau had seen too much.

If you can build a ship, this South China Sea is simply full of gold, Portuguese ships, Spanish ships, Dutch ships, which one is not loaded with silver to China. As long as you rob one, you will be developed, and if you have money, you can recruit outlaws, buy ships and cannons - Lando is very different from the Chinese traversers. He had never used his brains to make anything on his own, he had become accustomed to using all the weapons available, and now he was very good at arquebuses and flintlock pistols, and he was one of the top ten local masters in swordsmanship.

When you have enough money and people, you can directly set up a small independent country to be the king: there are so many wastelands that you have to tie up a few eye-catching Portuguese women, and then sneak to Australia or New Zealand to become colonists. Soon he realized that he had nowhere to refuel, and not a single subordinate. To become a colonizer alone is to be eaten by the Maori.

In addition, he did not have the jishu means to salvage the ship. Frustrated, Lando decided to hang out in Macau for the time being, and then try to gather a group of reliable people.

But he was soon disappointed: in Macau, a city full of adventurers, everyone talked about money, and only missionaries had ideals. For more than a year, he didn't even make a real friend -- there were quite a few friends who drank and gambled.

As for their own patrons and patrons: the Jesuit priests, how much of their soul-reading smile contained something that made him afraid.

He began to miss his old friends, and their lives and deaths were unknown. If one or two people are still alive, there will always be someone to help each other, and it will definitely open up a small situation.

If there was anyone he could trust on this plane, it was his black slave - he won it from the table. In honor of the third part of a movie he wanted to see but didn't see, he named the black man Slick.

Slick was a melancholy black man who was taciturn. But loyal enough to Lando - Lando at least adheres to the basic human rights concept of modern people in the 21st century: feed him, don't whip him, and don't lose him as a gamble at any time.

Every morning, Shilik would respectfully prepare his face wash and clothes. The communication between master and servant is basically based on eyes, gestures, and a strange conversation: Slick speaks strange Spanish, and Lando speaks broken Portuguese.

There are very few differences between Spanish and Portuguese, and they barely understand each other.

"I'm going to run out of money again." He muttered, turning and walking from the dock to the inn where he lived. Escaping from Zheng Zhilong's command with nine deaths, Liu Xiang gave him three hundred Spanish pesos quite generously - and tried to recruit him to serve himself, this tall and strong man was an enemy of a hundred on a big ship, obviously not an ordinary person, he needed this fierce general.

Landau refused, and it was enough to have this life-threatening experience once.

When he returned to Macau, Gelanzani rewarded him with another hundred pesos. Just as everything has a beginning and an end. The four hundred pesos had finally come to run out. He eats, drinks, gambles, and sometimes provokes women—at one point Lando hooked up with the wife of a prominent local Portuguese merchant, and then nearly beat her jealous husband to death. He had a bad reputation for this, and if he hadn't thought that Jesus would have been born and died, and that Jesus would have come to an end, he would have had to run away.

These pleasures quickly emptied his purse, in fact, Geranzani still took good care of him, giving him a little work from time to time, but he was very stingy. There has never been more than fifty pesos.

He was shy, and his livelihood was struggling. If this continues, I'm afraid I'll have to live a decent life. In the Jesuits, they would not give themselves a single money if they did not have a task, but they were always welcome to eat for free—if bread, bean soup, and sour wine mixed with cold water were also a meal.

He began to seriously consider whether or not to give Liu Xiang his life—this man's agent in Macao was always ready to serve outlaws from all over the world—and the Europeans were especially good, and he was in great need of men to manipulate the European guns for himself, and the conditions offered were not bad, four hundred Spanish pesos a year for the gunners. Landau estimated that he should be worth a thousand a year.

The inn was full of activity, and it was a Portuguese Jew-run inn. A small inn of this kind should have everything: a welcoming hostess, a chubby owner, a noisy dining room, and barely comfortable rooms. Lando liked it to be cleaner - Jews were the most hygienic than Europeans on the plane - and the food was good, albeit a little more expensive, but he made it a long-term home.

In the blink of an eye, he has been here for more than two years. If you stay for a long time, there will be some discounts - such as arrears. When he saw the hostess, he realized that he owed the rent and money here for almost three months.

The proprietress had a very unpleasant face, and the candles on the candlestick he gave him were the kind that were almost gone.

"I wish you a good night." She didn't even say the word "sir."

"Good night, ma'am." He made the most charming smile of an Italian man, and not many women could resist it, but Jewish women were clearly indifferent to him. Turn around and go to greet the guests who can afford to pay

He hastened back to his room, a small room on the third floor—formally called the "attic." Slick was sleeping on a straw bunk in front of the door. When he saw him coming, he quickly got up.

"Sleep, sleep. You. Lando muttered open the door and walked in.

The furnishings in the room were so simple that he hung his clothes behind the door and carefully brushed them twice with a brush. Then he sat down and took out half of the bread from the drawer - the other half had been given to Slik before he went out. If things are good, he'll come back with a meal for him. Now, of course, I don't have to think about it.

He untied his pistol, which he had been holding on for a moment, from his body and placed it under his pillow. The hard-bodied Chinese-style pillow contained a few modern possessions he had salvaged from the boat: a medical kit, an atlas of East and Southeast Asia, a pocket compass and a wallet containing hundreds of dollars, now just flower paper.

Lando nibbled on his bread with cold water, thinking about his future by the way.

As a pirate, he is weak, and it is impossible for the time being. He was reluctant to give Liu Xiang to be a mercenary - it was too dangerous, and he couldn't play his role at sea, unless he went to jump to the gang, the VZ68 was useless at all, and the bullets were limited......

Then he thought of the strange Australians again, though he had never seen them since. But Lando was 100% sure: it was a group of people from the same plane as him. Just look at the ridiculous claim that they call themselves "Australians".

Australians, you're a bunch of Chinese guys

As for how these Chinese guys got to this plane, I'm afraid only God knows.

But the Chinese are clearly in a much better position than themselves. They were well-dressed and looked good. And it is also selling a variety of goods. When he first saw the "crystal mirror" that the wealthy Chinese vied to show off, his jaw almost dropped.

Isn't this a plastic mirror, he's seen it in many bargain stores on shijie.

Then more and more news spread to Macau, such as the fact that the Australians had built a castle on a large island in southern China, that they had iron ships bigger than the largest Galen, and that there were many strange things. Moreover, firearms are very powerful.

After comprehensive analysis, Lando came to three conclusions: the so-called Australians are Chinese from the 21st century; They have modern ships and weapons; There are a lot of them.

As for the big island in southern China, of course, it is Hainan Island.

He checked the atlas he had with him and found an unfamiliar place name on the map: Lingao.

Lingao. He remembered that Father Comange had told him that he had been transferred from Lingao to Macao by the Chinese government. He still recalls being escorted almost naked by a group of ragged Chinese soldiers with spears and broadswords, and it seemed like a desolate place

Lando had a vague feeling that he would come here and have a great deal to do with them.

What do these Chinese want to do when they run to Lingao?

As more and more goods poured in from Lingao, Australian goods became a well-known brand, and many goods showed obvious signs of production in this time and space, Lando revised his judgment to that this group of Chinese people still had machinery and equipment, engineers and qualified jishu workers.

Even the so-called "Australian goods" changed his life: paper for wiping his butt in the toilet appeared on the market, and the price was surprisingly low, so that Lando's excretion finally stopped being a financial burden.

The Chinese even began supplying matches, paper cigarettes, rum and soda in oak barrels to Macau, and there were many such vendors on the streets of Macau, carrying two small kegs with faucets, one sweet and sour and one rum. You can buy it alone or buy the mixture, and in the summer you can even add grated mint leaves. Isn't this just a cocktail, Lando thought?

God, Landu thought, at least the Chinese made his life in this time and space not so difficult.

The news of Lingao's "Australian" lifestyle has gradually spread to Macau, including their good streets, perfect municipal management, and the bright lights that look like stars every night......

Now, for the first time, Lando, desperate to start a new business, seriously considered the idea of defecting to Australians, or Chinese. At least - they have plenty of toilet paper and clean toilets. In addition, he still likes Chinese food in the 21st century.

Instead of selling Liu Xiang's life, it is better to go to the Chinese. As people from the same time and space, we should have a common language. Speaking of which, when I first saw them in Geranzani's mansion, there were Europeans among them - still very beautiful chicks, who seemed to be Latino.

Since there are Europeans, there will be no exclusion of another European. He Lando does not have a motherland in this time and space, and the other party definitely does not have to worry about himself in this regard.

He has been a volunteer soldier, and he should be a professional talent that they urgently need, and he will definitely have food to eat when he goes there, and his status will be very high - how can Liu Xiang understand his value? But the Chinese in the 21st century certainly understand.

Thinking of this, he suddenly felt that going to Lingao was a bright road - he even wondered that he hadn't thought about it earlier, at least he would have missed a year's fast.

And he also has a big gift Lando, thinking that the weapons and ammunition sunk on the reef of Dongsha Island are a huge wealth. Relying on this, he can also mix a good position in the Lingao group.

He began to think about his "defection to freedom", and he was too lazy to eat bread. It's easy to get to Lingao, and Australians, like all maritime shili in the region, have semi-public agents here. From time to time, there are also ships plying between the two places. And there are no travel restrictions on Lingao, anyone can go as long as they want to.

Suddenly a question came to his mind: Are these modern Chinese in Lingao under the command of their government? Could it be that the Chinese government has mastered some secrets that have traveled through time and space, and is planning some astonishing conspiracy in Lingao, this time and space?

If this is the case, I am afraid that I will be immediately killed if I rashly go over to reveal my identity

Lando's enthusiasm immediately cooled. No matter how clean the toilet and good meals are, the premise is that you can live freely. If you are locked up or simply shot, there is no point.

He couldn't help but think about it, and then he thought that if the other party wanted to know if there were other Americans besides him who would jeopardize their mission in this plane, maybe they would torture themselves......

He shuddered at the thought of this and began to eat bread again.

That night, Lando had a strange dream. After a while he arrived at Lingao, put on the "people's clothes", and sat in a grand hall for a meeting; After a while, he became a U.S. government agent, answering the Navy SEALs in the wilderness, shouting, "Lingao is in that direction"; After a while he was tied to a chair again, and in the dark secret room, several Chinese in training uniforms looked at him coldly, as if they wanted to torture him, and when he called for help, he realized that it was Geranzani who interrogated him. He said, "Prepare atonement, you heretic." ”

Then he found himself standing at the stake on a pile full of firewood.

Lando screamed, rolled out of bed, and woke up.

He touched his head, and it was sweat.

"God" he cried out, it was terrible.

"Master, how are you?" Slick poked a head in through the door.

"I'm fine," said Lando, "pour me water and wash my face." ”

Lando was not entertained for any breakfast in the dining room. The proprietress just reminded him with a smile that he still had three months to pay his debts.

Lando and Slik, the master and servant, had to wander the streets, and Lando wanted to see if he could meet any acquaintances who could have a meal together, but he really couldn't go to the Jesuit church to eat.

A short black woman dressed in cotton suddenly leaned in, and her appearance made him lose his appetite for breakfast.

"Mr. Lando," she shouted in Portuguese.

"What's the matter?" He looked at the black woman, and it seemed that she must be some rich man's slave girl or something. Her appearance was not quite the same as that of the black slaves in Africa, her eyes were yellow and crooked. The appearance can be called ugly no matter what time and space you look at.

"Please come over here." The black slave girl motioned for him to go to a Chinese tea stall on the side of the road.

"I'm sorry, I don't have time." Lando said with a big grin, he was too lazy to talk to such an ugly woman.

"What if there is this?" The black slave girl untied a money bag from her waist, and the silver coins made a pleasant grinding sound.

"Okay. I'm a person who never rejects a woman. ”

The black slave girl asked for a pot of tea and seemed to want to say something to him. He watched misty as the Chinese stall owner fried something in a pot — something he vaguely remembered was eaten in Chinatown, and it looked like a fritter.

The aroma of fried fritters made him lose his soul.

The black slave girl glared at him helplessly, took out some Chinese copper coins, and asked the stall owner to bring fried dough sticks and baked cakes.

With a gentlemanly and arrogant attitude, Lando picked up the baked cake, followed the example of other Chinese, folded the fritters and rolled them up. I took a big bite of it.

"One more for my servant." He looked after the stall owners in Chinese.

So Slick also got a fried dough stick.

"I'd like to ask Mr. Xia Lando, have you been free lately?"