After leaving Arizona, the five of them traveled all the way north to San Francisco.

Strictly speaking, this is the third time Chen Jianqiu has come to this city.

However, the first time this body was not his own, and he had no memory.

The second time, I went straight to Chinatown, and I came and went in a hurry.

So this time, he was not in a hurry at all, and slowly and leisurely took a good look around the city with the other four people.

This is the number one city on the West Coast of the United States.

The main road was bustling, lined with tall buildings of various shapes, and trams and horse-drawn carriages passed through the middle of the street, carrying one after another well-dressed gentlemen and glamorous ladies.

However, behind the main road, in those dark alleys, where even the sun does not shine, huddle one poor soul after another.

Many of them are disabled and have lost their ability to work due to wars, accidents, etc., and have to beg for a living.

These people will not be on the main road.

That's because San Francisco introduced a city law more than a decade ago that prohibits ugly-looking people from appearing on the streets, and violators are punishable by fines ranging from $1 to $50 or 25 days in jail.

The first time Chen Jianqiu heard about this law was from Mark Twain, which made him very worried about whether Sean would be taken down by the street.

However, it was later learned that this decree was mainly aimed at disabled people who beggar.

However, the seemingly ridiculous ordinance was popular with San Francisco's residents, who believed it made the city look "cleaner and tidier."

On their behalf, Holiday exchanged some of the silver coins in the bank for paper money to lighten their loads, and after making some purchases in the store, they found a decent looking hotel to stay in.

"You guys rest first, we'll be busy in two days." Chen Jianqiu commanded.

And he himself went to deliver his manuscripts for Mark Twain.

The writer gave him the address in Atherton, a small town in the southern suburbs of San Francisco.

It's not close to the center of the city, but it's beautiful, laid-back and quiet.

There's no endless coastline or a lot of shops, but it's a great place for San Francisco's wealthy people to spend the summer.

Chen Jianqiu rode a horse and came to a large house, and he rang the doorbell.

After a while, a white-haired old butler opened the window next to the door: "Who are you looking for?" ”

"I went to Mr. Joseph Pulitzer, and I was asked by Mr. Mark Twain to bring him something." Chen Jianqiu took out the thick envelope from his saddle bag.

The old butler looked the yellow-skinned man up and down.

The man was dressed as a cowboy and smelled of a horse, and although the gleaming gold belt around his waist was worth a lot of money, it didn't change the fact that he was a hillbilly.

What's more, he is still Chinese.

"You leave something at the door." The butler didn't mean to open the door.

Chen Jianqiu was just about to leave the envelope at the door, but suddenly a person's voice came from inside the room: "Reuben, who is outside?" ”

"A Chinese, sir, sent by Mr. Mark Twain." The old butler said.

However, Chen Jianqiu was not interested in listening to the conversation between the two, so he turned around and left.

"Mr. Chen! Please stay! ”

Chen Jianqiu turned his head.

The door of the house suddenly opened, and a middle-aged man with glasses and a big beard appeared in the doorway.

It seems that this gentleman is the famous Joseph Pulitzer.

"May I ask if you are Mr. Chen Jianqiu?" He asked politely.

"Yes." Chen Jianqiu gave a rather brief answer.

"Mr. Mark Twain told me that you could come in and sit down if it was convenient?" Pulitzer coughed and made a gesture of please.

Chen Jianqiu thought about it, but still followed Pulitzer into the house.

They came to the courtyard at the back of the house.

There was a table in the courtyard, and two chairs were placed on the side of the table, and it was clear that the newspaper tycoon had afternoon tea here on weekdays.

"You may be seated, Mr. Chen." Pulitzer pointed to one of the chairs, and he sat on the other.

Chen Jianqiu handed him Mark Twain's manuscript.

Purley went through the manuscripts slightly: "Mr. Mark Twain's pen is still so sharp and sharp. ”

He had been coughing, his face was very bad, and he didn't look well.

After coughing again, the middle-aged man pulled out a handkerchief and covered his mouth.

He put the manuscript on the table and apologized repeatedly: "I'm sorry, Mr. Chen, my two years in the newspaper industry have affected my health, which is why the doctor recommended that I come to San Francisco for vacation." ”

Chen Jianqiu didn't speak, he was actually a little curious about what this person was looking for him.

When he was separated from Mark Twain before, his identity seemed to be that he was still a kidnapper suspected of kidnapping Master Astor.

Could it be that this Mr. Pulitzer also needs to be kidnapped?

"I've heard your name, from more than one person." "If I'm not mistaken," Pulitzer said, "you should now be the majority shareholder of the Santa Fe Railroad. ”

"Oh?" Chen Jianqiu is a little strange, is he so famous?

Pulitzer saw that he was a little puzzled and laughed: "Don't forget, I am a newspaper man, and many of the shareholders of the Santa Fe Railroad are my friends. ”

This is reasonable, it seems that the impression I gave to those Yankews is still deep.

Pulitzer continued: "To be honest, you don't look like a Chinese at all. ”

"I'm just like them." Chen Jianqiu replied coldly, "Same yellow skin and black eyes." ”

"Oh, no, no, no, you misunderstood me." Pulitzer hurriedly shook his head and explained, "I mean, in the United States, as a Chinese, it is very difficult to achieve something like yours. ”

"Do you have anything to do with me?" Chen Jianqiu didn't want to continue the topic, he was going to ask Pulitzer's purpose clearly, and then leave.

"Oh, that's the case, the French plan to send us a bronze statue to celebrate freedom, and I've seen the drawings of that statue, which is a goddess holding a torch." Pulitzer tugged at his glasses.

"Well, I've heard of this statue." Chen Jianqiu nodded.

"Now, though, there's a problem." Pulitzer frowned, "The cost of building the statue is all raised, but the cost of the statue's base has not yet been settled, I asked their professional opinions, and it will cost about two hundred and fifty thousand dollars." ”

"So, I'd like to ask you, as the chairman of the board of directors of the Santa Fe Railroad Company, would you be interested in donating to this project?" Pulitzer looked at Chen Jianqiu.

He'd seen a lot of rich people, but the one in front of him was a little special.

I have never seen a chairman of the board of directors wearing denim clothes and running errands to deliver letters, especially in an industry like the railway, where you can make money with your eyes closed.

"Mr. Pulitzer, what do you think is the significance of the Statue of Liberty?" Chen Jianqiu asked suddenly.

Pulitzer barely thought much and blurted out:

"She represents that our country is a country of freedom, and she uses the torch in her hand to light the way to freedom for everyone who comes, and welcomes everyone who yearns for freedom......"

"Except for the Chinese, right?" Chen Jianqiu looked at Pulitzer calmly, seeing that he was like a man's back.

"Millions of my fellow citizens have been treated unfairly, blocked from the borders of the country by a programme, and now you want me to donate to a statue pedestal that symbolizes 'freedom'?"

Chen Jianqiu's face could not see the change in emotion, but the truth that could be said was cold and cruel.

Pulitzer was a little embarrassed, he felt that it was difficult to face the young man in front of him, and he didn't know what to say for a while.

"If nothing happens, I'll take my leave." Chen Jianqiu was just about to get up and leave.

Suddenly, he jerked his foot up and kicked Pulitzer, who was sitting next to him in a chair.

And almost at the same time, a gunshot rang out from outside the courtyard.

A bullet slashed past where Pulitzer had been sitting.