Huang Qingyun looked at the guns and bullets in front of him, a little stunned.

"What if the police are going to search?"

Chen Jianqiu smiled.

"That's because you don't have a gun, that's why they search, and if you really have a gun, you see if he searches."

He took a bullet out of the box and placed it under the sun.

In the afterglow of the setting sun, the bullet's copper casing shimmered.

"Unless the U.S. Army wants to get you in trouble, the police guys, unless you burn down San Francisco's City Hall, they don't want to show up in Chinatown."

"In their eyes, their lives are worth more than ours."

Chen Jianqiu looked at Huang Qingyun: "And, Uncle Huang, don't forget what we did before we came to the United States." ”

He pointed in the direction of Chinatown: "Those people, there is still a way to retreat, it's a big deal to go back to the messy Qing Dynasty, we don't have it." ”

Huang Qingyun is like an initiation.

He suddenly felt his blood surge, and his past appeared in front of him.

He seems to have returned to his youth, and his whole person is full of vitality again.

Under Chen Jianqiu's arrangement, Hanif and Donnie took the carriage gun and went to the dock.

"Sifu, talk to the others, pack up and get ready to go, and we'll gather outside the city at 8 o'clock in the evening." Chen Jianqiu turned his head and instructed Li Sifu.

The fully armed twenty-somethings were too eye-catching, so after last night, Chen Jianqiu didn't let the people of the Long Xiang group go back to the city, but found a place to stay outside the city.

"Pair a table." Chen Jianqiu took out his pocket watch.

Li Sifu adjusted the hands of his pocket watch to the same as his boss, then got on his horse and walked out of the courtyard, heading in the direction of the outside of the city.

He knew that nine times out of ten, his boss would be going to wander around the city alone for a while.

Chen Jianqiu planned to take a walk around the city before leaving San Francisco, and when it was later, he wanted to go to the "ruins" of the dock union.

He mounted the black radish and headed in the direction of the docks.

The union is now burned to the ground, a pile of blackened ruins like the abandoned buildings in Chinatown.

The San Francisco police pulled a line around it, and it looked more like a "ruin."

The crowd of onlookers had dispersed.

The townspeople were quite willing to believe Carney's version, the conspiracy, kidnapping, arson, it sounded interesting.

So, in their hearts, at least for now, this case is temporarily closed.

Chen Jianqiu looked at the ruins for a while, then remounted his horse and continued along the coastline.

Night fell.

Darkness once again filled the city's shores, and the wind from the Pacific Ocean blew from the sea and swept across Chen Jianqiu's face.

Not far away, there was a little light.

It was a fishing port wharf.

Thirty years ago, a timber merchant built a 170-square-meter wharf there to facilitate his timber business.

Unexpectedly, as soon as the wharf was completed, it attracted many laborers, cheap restaurants and bars were also built, and business was very hot.

Active there were some of the first Italian immigrants to come to San Francisco.

With their good fishing skills, they turned Fisherman's Wharf into a distribution center for San Francisco's aquatic products.

So here, it is also called "Fisherman's Wharf"

These were all told to him by Huang Qingyun, and he told Chen Jianqiu that if he wanted to taste the freshest seafood, he could go there.

Don't miss it when you walk by.

You know, since the crossing, he has been traveling inland, and later he has been diving headlong into the great desert of New Mexico.

He hadn't seen what seafood looked like in a long time.

The taverns and restaurants on the pier were lit up, and laughter came out of the windows.

It's lively inside.

Chen Jianqiu had no intention of disturbing these Italian immigrants.

He walked into one of the restaurants and asked the owner, who had a strong Italian accent, for grilled sea bass.

Chen Jianqiu found an open-air table and listened to the sound of the waves while tasting his dinner alone.

In the distance, the sound of the ship's steam turbine can be heard from time to time, and the lighthouse on the shore is also guiding the direction of the ships at sea.

The sea bass on the plate soon had only one head left.

Chen Jianqiu wiped his mouth, stood up, and was just about to turn around and leave.

However, at this time, a middle-aged man on the trestle not far away caught his attention.

With a bottle of wine in his hand, the middle-aged man leaned over the fence of the trestle, facing the dark sea.

The light of the gas lamp on the side of the trestle can only shine on his back, and his face cannot be seen.

Suddenly, the middle-aged man lifted his legs and prepared to jump over the fence and jump into the sea.

Chen Jianqiu took three steps and made two steps, and in the blink of an eye, he rushed to the middle-aged man's side, stretched out his hand, and pulled him off the railing.

The middle-aged man who had not yet succeeded in his death leaned against the fence and sat on the ground.

A gust of sea breeze blew, and his wine woke up a little, and at the same time, he could see Chen Jianqiu in front of him clearly.

He slumped to the ground, tilting his head and looking untouchable.

Tears slid down his cheeks.

The collapse of middle-aged people is often more desperate than that of young people.

If the howling of young people is like spring rain rushing through the soil, it will soon disappear and regroup;

The middle-aged man's silent tears, like the autumn rain crippling the leaves, may be inadvertently, making people no longer have illusions about this world.

But it's better to cry than not to cry.

Chen Jianqiu thinks so.

"Hey, friend, what's not to think of?" He crouched down and patted the middle-aged man on the shoulder.

"I failed, a complete failure." The middle-aged man said calmly, "That bastard ruined me." ”

"Well, who ruined you?" Chen Jianqiu was confused.

"Thomas Edison."

This name is very familiar to Chen Jianqiu.

The first Americans he met before crossing over were Franklin and Edison.

Both of these men appeared in his pre-crossing elementary school textbooks, one flying a kite to lead a thunderstorm during a thunderstorm, and the other using a mirror to reflect light to operate on his mother.

After crossing over, he asked Holmes and others to verify the authenticity of this matter.

The answer was just two words, oh no, one word: "bullshit!" ”

"Well, what did he do to you?" The middle-aged man's words aroused Chen Jianqiu's curiosity, and he continued to ask.

"I'm a businessman in New York who runs a gas lighting company, and I'm also an inventor who has improved gas lamps and has several inventions." The middle-aged man said.

"However, in the bidding for municipal lighting in the United States two years ago, Edison beat me by all the dirty and despicable means you can think of."

"He also used all his connections to force me to sell my company and bankrupt me." The middle-aged man took a sip of wine.

"Then why are you here?" Chen Jianqiu was a little puzzled.

According to this guy's description, he should be operating on the East Coast, how did he cross the entire United States and run to the West Coast?

"Because I thought that when I got here, I would be able to avoid that bastard and make a comeback." The middle-aged man muttered, "But I failed, and no one wants to give me a chance." ”

"Well, you should go to Europe and look for opportunities." Chen Jianqiu interjected.

"I have nothing left, and I'm in debt." The middle-aged man said in a calm tone, "If I die, maybe I can save my family from debt." ”

"So, you borrowed from a loan shark?" Chen Jianqiu asked.

The middle-aged man nodded.

As a veteran of this industry, Chen Jianqiu originally wanted to tell him a cruel reality.

In the West, there is no such thing as a man dying and his debts are extinguished, and his death is of no use other than to make his family more miserable.

For this matter, Chen Jianqiu couldn't help it, he couldn't persuade a person who wanted to die.

"Friend, I suggest you stay strong and live, maybe everything will be fine." Chen Jianqiu patted him on the shoulder.

He was just about to turn around and go back when something suddenly remembered.

Chen Jianqiu turned his head: "By the way, what's your name?" ”

The middle-aged man raised his head and sighed:

"Hiram Maxim"

One more, two more later

(End of chapter)