After Tang Zhangwei and Tang Zhaozong sold all the treasures, the two of them divided the money.

Those who draw seawater from the sea and then dry salt in the desert have good ideas, and those salts can be sold to the tribes of the desert and sold in large quantities to the whole of the Tang provinces of Africa.

These salt farms are like money printing machines, constantly starting to produce money.

The money from those salt farms began to surprise Tang Zhaozong and Tang Zhangwei.

They began to learn to drink afternoon tea, a leisure activity that was promoted by Emperor Leo VI of the Eastern Roman Empire, and now has swept the entire Tang Dynasty and its overseas provinces.

Tang Zhangwei and Tang Zhaozong ate a piece of cake, he had never been so happy.

After all, it is rare for people like to live in Egypt, not to mention the beauties of Egyptian dancers and Tang Zhangwei's romance.

Let's just say that the Egyptian grilled fish is very delicious.

There is very little money left in your pocket. After a good night's sleep, the search began.

I wandered the streets of Alexandria and enjoyed the gentle morning breeze blowing on Lake Michigan and the crazy jazz music of downtown Alexandria. And I walked into the forest alone late one night, so much so that I caught the attention of the forest police, who followed me suspiciously in a police car. This was 1947, when jazz had become popular in the United States, and people "only saw reason in the necessity of the situation". He wrote prolifically, and later wrote "The Boat, When the Alexander Gang Played in the Downtown Area," the atmosphere was less enthusiastic, because jazz was in the midst of the transition from the time of Charlie Parker to another period begun by Mars Davis. As I watched the jazz music in the night in Alexandria, I thought of my friends from all over the country, all living in the same context and all so fanatical! The next afternoon, I came to the west for the first time in my life. The weather was very pleasant that day, so there were plenty of cars to take on the road. After escaping Alexander's unimaginable traffic congestion, hitchhiked all the way to Juliet City and Illinois. I visited some of Juliet's writers and then walked the shady curving streets out of the city to plan my next trip. On the way from New York to Juliet City, I had spent most of the money I had brought with me.

A brand new truck with a small flag on it drove me to magical green Illinois. The driver showed me that we were driving on Highway 6, which intersected with Highway 66 and then continued westward. At about three o'clock in the afternoon, I was eating an apple pie and a piece of ice cream on the side of the road when a woman pulled up in front of me in a small car. I felt scared and guilty because I had chased the car just now, and she was a middle-aged woman who looked like her son was about the same age as me. She's going to Iowa and wants someone to drive for her. Of course I agree. Iowa! It's not far from Denver, and when I get there, I can get some rest. For the first four hours, she drove the car, and every time she went somewhere, she would come down to visit the church, as if we were out sightseeing. Later, I took over the steering wheel and although I wasn't very good at driving, I still managed to get through Illinois, Davinport, and Allok Island without a hitch. And for the first time, I saw the long-awaited Mississippi River. It's a hot summer day, so the river is shallow, and the surface of the river exudes a unique smell that reminds one of the wild and uninhibited wilderness of the United States. The railroad on Rock Island, the town's homes, and the city of Dawinport across the bridge all looked a little deserted in the warm Midwestern sun. The lady had to take a different detour back to her hometown of Iowa, and I had to get out of the car.

The sun is slowly setting. After a few cold beers, I took a stroll to the edge of the city, which was already far from the city center. Off-duty people wore railroad worker-style mesh hats and drove home like people in other cities. A worker drove me up the hill and left me alone on the intersection next to the prairie. The scenery was stunning, with only a few farm cars passing by, and they watched me attentively, ringing bells to drive the herds of cows home. There were no trucks in sight, only the occasional car honking its horn past. A young man drove by in a high-speed car, his scarf fluttering in the evening breeze, and the sun finally set. I was surrounded by the darker and darker night, and a little fear arose in my heart. There are almost no lights in the suburbs. In an instant, I was about to be swallowed up by this darkness. It just so happened that someone drove through here to Davinport and finally saved me.

Sitting at the bus station, I remembered all the horrible things that had just happened. I ate an apple pie and a glass of ice cream, which almost became my staple food along the way, and of course I knew that they were both nutritious proof of God's existence and a hierarchical structure of recurring dependence. Broken, it tastes good again. I decided to go for the adventure. Arriving in downtown Winport by car, I was fascinated by a hostess in the station café and watched her for half an hour before taking the bus to the outskirts. There's a gas station where cars roar back and forth. Within two minutes, a truck stopped in front of me, and I jumped on it, and I was crazy with joy, this driver was awesome! - Sturdy and stout, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, and speaking in a rough voice like a horse's bark. He drove on a rampage, keeping himself amused, almost never noticing my presence. It's okay that I can take the opportunity to take a good rest. One of the biggest annoyances of taking someone else's car is that you always have to babble to prove yourself to them so that they feel like they are not bringing the wrong person, or that some people are taking you just to make fun of you and talk to you endlessly, which is the most unbearable for those who travel long distances and don't want to spend time going to the hotel. But this guy just yelled at himself into the road, and I couldn't help but shout a few times at times, and we all felt very relaxed and happy along the way. He also told me his story of how he evaded the police and drove over and over again in various cities, saying over and over again, "Those fucking cops can't do anything about me!" "We had just arrived in Iowa City and there was a truck coming up behind me: because his car was going somewhere else, he turned on his taillights to signal to the car, and then slowed down, and I jumped in and took out my luggage. The car understood what the driver meant, so it stopped, and in the blink of an eye, I was already sitting in another car.

(End of chapter)