Even if he took the initiative to surrender, if it weren't for the fact that Rockefeller had certain business dealings with Fan Wencheng, the father of Julie's quasi-imperial concubine, and had secretly betrayed the Lincoln government-related information, he would not have been sentenced so lightly.

When Tang Sangui went to contact the Vanderbilt family on behalf of His Majesty the Emperor, I don't know what Fan Wencheng thought, he actually thought that Tang Sangui's behind-the-scenes financier was himself, and even thought that he was her daughter's licking dog.

Fortunately, neither he nor Fan Wencheng made a noise about this matter, otherwise Rockefeller really didn't know how he would die.

In short, Rockefeller thinks that his current ending is not bad.

Fifteen years of hard labor sounds terrible, but Rockefeller knew that as long as he worked hard and did not cheat, his sentence could be progressively shortened.

And being able to come to Xianbeilia to build the railway, this in itself is Fan Wencheng's help.

You must know that even if it is the private white slave of His Majesty the Emperor, it is not easy to get the errand of building a railway.

There will be a lot of points for building the Trans-Siberian Railway, which seems dangerous, but in fact safety is guaranteed.

The mortality rate will not exceed 1/5 at most.

As an enterprising gambler, Rockefeller didn't think he would be that 1/5.

Maybe in seven or eight years, I will be able to regain my freedom.

Of course, don't think about reopening an oil company.

Although the Ming Dynasty did not exclude the establishment of private enterprises, oil exploitation, such an important weapon of the country, was still firmly in the hands of the imperial court.

Of course, the efficiency of the state-owned sector is dragging down, and the imperial court is also trying to improve it.

Jingle Bell –

Rockefeller had just rubbed a handful of hot water when a hurried bell rang.

It is the bell of three meals a day, and it is the most beautiful sound in the howling north wind of Simberia.

Together with the other bloated white slaves, he rushed desperately towards the shed.

Suddenly, Rockefeller felt his feet slip, and the whole person fell into the mud.

In the spring, it is very muddy.

This is especially true now that the snow is about to melt.

Fortunately, after a year of labor reform, Rockefeller's skills have become very vigorous.

In fact, he felt like his body was even better than he was five years ago, as if he was ten years younger.

Standing up and patting the mud stain on the back of the buttocks of the urea pants, Rockefeller couldn't help but sigh, Those engineers of the Ming Empire are the ones who really understand the value of oil!

Compared to them, the Americans and the British only use oil as fuel, which is really outrageous.

When he was first sent to the labor camp, Rockefeller was surprised to see the workers cut open the bags containing urea and flour and sew them into pants.

Now Rockefeller knows that this is a real treasure!

This kind of packaging bag is made of chemical fibers, which is airtight and soft, not to mention how warm it is when stuffed with cotton.

It's just that the sale is a little bit different.

Rockefeller had studied the Ming dialect for a while.

"The white slave sees the white slave, Bibi urea pants, the front is 'Ming system', and the back is 'urea'".

Especially the Rockefeller pants, the crotch is written with the words "70 kg", and people who don't know think that he is talented inside.

The urea pants are waterproof, so the Rockefeller's ass didn't get wet.

He quickly ran to the shed and removed the enamel rice bowl with his job number attached to it from the shelf.

This kind of rice basin has a large capacity, and it is about the same size as a smaller basin.

Speaking of which, it was also in Xianbeilia that Rockefeller learned that the Ming artifact he treasured in his mansion in New York in his early years was a spittoon, not a rice bowl.

At this moment, he missed the spittoon a little.

Because although the rice bowl is big, how can there be a deep spittoon?

The Daming cooks on the construction site are not like the canteen aunts in the later universities.

These white slaves are all the private property of the Long Live Lord, and they are all manual labor.

It's absolutely okay to let them eat well, and it's absolutely okay to be full.

Today's breakfast is corn paste and big leba.

On the construction site where Rockefeller was, there was an aunt from the Rakshasa Kingdom in the cooking class, who made an authentic big lieba.

But Rockefeller thought the baguette was actually pretty good, but it was too hard in the cold wind of Humberia.

The cook in the cooking class was a serious French court cook.

Those who were captured by the Ming Dynasty along with Napoleon III were supposed to be ransomed by their relatives in Paris, but William I spent a lot of money to send all French white slaves to the bottom of the mine 800 meters at one time.

This hapless cook dug for three whole years, and encountered five mining accidents.

Fortunately, if you don't die in a great disaster, there will be a blessing in the future, and now it can be regarded as a bittersweet one.

Although he has not yet broken away from the slave status, after all, he is an old white slave from Dewu for five years to the present, and he has some privileges and is more at ease organizationally.

He is now also a cook in the cooking class, so he doesn't have to go to the construction site to do heavy physical work.

Dipping the corn paste in Da Leba and eating it one bite at a time, Rockefeller wondered if he should also think of a way.

At least become a technical white slave, so as not to fight sleepers and lay rails all day long.

Don't think about driving excavators, cranes or anything, those heavy weapons of the country are not Daming Zhuka holders can not be touched.

I've got to think of something else.

Rockefeller thought it wouldn't be of much value to discuss with these workers.

After all, the vast majority of white slaves are basically prisoners of war who can't read a few characters, and there are even old white men who voluntarily join the slavery and get the permanent residency of the Ming Dynasty.

The guys had the same head as a lump of wood and couldn't communicate at all.

Rockefeller had heard again that some professors and scholars in the two princely states of America would rather give up their teaching positions and reputations than go to Daming to wash dishes.

But that kind of people are in the minority, and most of them are liberal arts scholars, and they are of little use to Rockefeller.

Just when he was thinking wildly, he suddenly saw several Ming soldiers wearing woolen trench coats walking over with a group of white slaves with shrunken heads and shoulders.

A second lieutenant of the Ming Kingdom explained to the person in charge of the construction site: "Captain Li, this is a new white slave who has been tried and the problem is not particularly serious, and it will be handed over to you. ”

Li Xijun nodded, glared at those white slaves coldly, and said in fluent, but with a strong accent in Chinese-English: "You newcomers are honest, our emperor is kind enough to spare your cheap life to atone for your crimes, it doesn't mean that Lao Tzu is easy to fool......"

Li Xijun explained the rules of the construction team to these new white slaves one by one, including the minimum flogging and various punishments that are not capped.

Those white slaves lowered their eyebrows one by one, and they were so honest that none of them dared to say that Captain Li's English was funny or non-standard.