America 1881: They Call Me Legend
Chapter 289 Re-entering San Francisco
After the five people left Arizona, they went all the way north and soon came to San Francisco.
Strictly speaking, this is the third time Chen Jianqiu has come to this city.
However, the body was not his own the first time, and he had no memory of it.
The second time I went straight to Chinatown, coming and going in a hurry.
So this time, he was not in a hurry at all, and took a leisurely stroll around the city with the other four people.
It is the largest city on the west coast of the United States.
The main road is very prosperous, with tall buildings of different shapes standing on both sides. Trams and carriages pass through the center of the street, carrying well-dressed gentlemen and glamorous ladies one after another.
However, behind the main road, in those dark alleys, where the sun doesn't even shine, there are one poor soul after another curled up.
Many of them are disabled, who have lost their ability to work due to wars, accidents, etc., and can only beg for a living.
These people will not appear on the main road.
Because San Francisco introduced a city law more than ten years ago: prohibiting ugly people from appearing on the streets, those who violate it will be fined from 1 to 50 dollars or imprisoned for 25 days.
When Chen Jianqiu heard about this law for the first time, it originated from Mark Twain, which made him very worried whether Xiao En would be taken down in the street.
But later I learned that this decree is mainly aimed at those disabled begging.
However, the ridiculous-sounding ordinance is popular among San Francisco residents, who believe it makes their city look more "clean and tidy."
On behalf of them, Holliday exchanged some of the silver coins into banknotes in the bank to reduce the burden. After shopping in the store, they found a decent looking hotel to stay in.
"You guys rest first, we will be very busy in two days." Chen Jianqiu ordered.
And he himself went to deliver those manuscripts for Mark Twain.
The address given to him by the writer is in Atherton, a small town in the southern suburbs of San Francisco.
It is not close to the center of the city, but the scenery is beautiful, leisurely and quiet.
There is no endless coastline here, and there is no dazzling array of shops, but here is a good place for wealthy people in San Francisco to spend their summer vacations.
Chen Jianqiu rode a horse and came to a big house, and he rang the doorbell.
After a while, an old butler with white hair opened the window next to the door: "Who are you looking for?"
"I'm looking for Mr. Joseph Pulitzer. I was entrusted by Mr. Mark Twain to bring him something." Chen Jianqiu took out the thick envelope from his saddle bag.
The old housekeeper looked the yellow-skinned man up and down.
This man was dressed in cowboy clothes, and he still smelled like a horse. Although the gleaming gold belt around his waist was valuable, it didn't change the fact that he was a country bumpkin.
What's more, he is a Chinese.
"Put your things at the door." The butler didn't intend to open the door.
Just as Chen Jianqiu was about to leave the envelope at the door, a voice suddenly came from inside the room: "Lu Ben, who is outside?"
"A Chinese, sir, sent by Mr. Mark Twain," said the old butler.
But Chen Jianqiu was not interested in listening to the conversation between the two, so he turned around and left.
"Mr. Chen! Please stop!"
Chen Jianqiu turned his head.
The door of the house was suddenly opened, and a middle-aged man with glasses and a beard appeared at the door.
It seems that this gentleman is the famous Joseph Pulitzer.
"Excuse me, are you Mr. Chen Jianqiu?" He asked politely.
"Yes." Chen Jianqiu gave a rather short answer.
"Mr. Mark Twain mentioned you to me. If it's convenient, can you come in and sit down?" Pulitzer coughed and made a gesture of invitation.
After thinking about it, Chen Jianqiu followed Pulitzer into the house.
They came to the yard behind the house.
There was a table in the yard with two chairs beside it. Obviously, this newspaper tycoon had afternoon tea here on weekdays.
"Please sit down, Mr. Chen." Pulitzer pointed to one of the chairs, and he himself sat on the other one.
Chen Jianqiu handed him the manuscript of Mark Twain.
Puli strategically flipped through the manuscripts: "Mr. Mark Twain's pen is still so sharp and sharp."
He has been coughing, his complexion is very bad, and he seems to be in poor health.
After coughing again, the middle-aged man took out a handkerchief and covered his mouth.
He put the manuscript on the table, and apologized again and again: "I'm sorry, Mr. Chen, the past two years of my newspaper career have affected my health, which is why the doctor advised me to come to San Francisco for vacation."
Chen Jianqiu didn't speak, he was actually a little curious about what this person wanted from him.
When he was separated from Mark Twain before, his identity seemed to be a kidnapper suspected of kidnapping Master Astor.
Does this Mr. Pulitzer also need to kidnap someone?
"I've heard of your name from more than one person," Pulitzer said. "If I remember correctly, you should be the majority shareholder of the Santa Fe Railroad."
"Oh?" Chen Jianqiu was a little strange, is he so famous?
Seeing him a little puzzled, Pulitzer 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 I have left a deep impression on those Yankees.
Pulitzer continued: "To be honest, you don't look like a Chinese at all."
"I'm the same as them." Chen Jianqiu replied coldly, "same yellow skin, black eyes."
"Oh, no, no, no, you misunderstood me." Pulitzer shook his head hastily and explained, "I mean, in the United States, as a Chinese, if you want to achieve your achievements, A very difficult thing."
"Is there anything you want from me?" Chen Jianqiu didn't want to continue this topic, he was going to ask Pulitzer's purpose clearly, and then left.
"Oh, here's the thing. The French plan to send us a bronze statue to celebrate freedom. I've seen the blueprint of that statue. It's a goddess holding a torch." Pulitzer adjusted his glasses.
"Well, I've heard of this statue." Chen Jianqiu nodded.
"However, there is a problem now." Pulitzer frowned, "The cost of building the statue has been raised, but the cost of the base of the statue has not yet been settled. I asked their professional opinions, it probably takes $25."
"So, I would like to ask you, as the chairman of the Santa Fe Railway Company, are you interested in donating to this project?" Pulitzer looked at Chen Jianqiu.
He has seen many rich people, but this one in front of him is a bit 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 railways 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 of it, and blurted out:
"She represents that our country is a country of freedom. She uses the torch in her hand to illuminate the road to freedom for everyone who comes here. Everyone who yearns for freedom is welcome here..."
"Except for the Chinese, right?" Chen Jianqiu looked at Pulitzer calmly, with a glow on his back.
"You want me to donate to the pedestal of a statue that symbolizes 'freedom' while millions of my fellow citizens are being treated unfairly and kept out of our borders by a program?"
There was no change of emotion on Chen Jianqiu's face, but the facts he said were cold and cruel.
Pulitzer was a little ashamed. He felt it was difficult to face the young man in front of him, and he didn't know what to say for a while.
"If there is nothing else, I will take my leave first." Chen Jianqiu was about to get up and leave.
Suddenly, he suddenly lifted his foot and kicked Pulitzer who was sitting next to him on the chair.
And almost at the same time, a gunshot sounded from outside the yard.
A bullet crossed the place where Pulitzer had been sitting.
Strictly speaking, this is the third time Chen Jianqiu has come to this city.
However, the body was not his own the first time, and he had no memory of it.
The second time I went straight to Chinatown, coming and going in a hurry.
So this time, he was not in a hurry at all, and took a leisurely stroll around the city with the other four people.
It is the largest city on the west coast of the United States.
The main road is very prosperous, with tall buildings of different shapes standing on both sides. Trams and carriages pass through the center of the street, carrying well-dressed gentlemen and glamorous ladies one after another.
However, behind the main road, in those dark alleys, where the sun doesn't even shine, there are one poor soul after another curled up.
Many of them are disabled, who have lost their ability to work due to wars, accidents, etc., and can only beg for a living.
These people will not appear on the main road.
Because San Francisco introduced a city law more than ten years ago: prohibiting ugly people from appearing on the streets, those who violate it will be fined from 1 to 50 dollars or imprisoned for 25 days.
When Chen Jianqiu heard about this law for the first time, it originated from Mark Twain, which made him very worried whether Xiao En would be taken down in the street.
But later I learned that this decree is mainly aimed at those disabled begging.
However, the ridiculous-sounding ordinance is popular among San Francisco residents, who believe it makes their city look more "clean and tidy."
On behalf of them, Holliday exchanged some of the silver coins into banknotes in the bank to reduce the burden. After shopping in the store, they found a decent looking hotel to stay in.
"You guys rest first, we will be very busy in two days." Chen Jianqiu ordered.
And he himself went to deliver those manuscripts for Mark Twain.
The address given to him by the writer is in Atherton, a small town in the southern suburbs of San Francisco.
It is not close to the center of the city, but the scenery is beautiful, leisurely and quiet.
There is no endless coastline here, and there is no dazzling array of shops, but here is a good place for wealthy people in San Francisco to spend their summer vacations.
Chen Jianqiu rode a horse and came to a big house, and he rang the doorbell.
After a while, an old butler with white hair opened the window next to the door: "Who are you looking for?"
"I'm looking for Mr. Joseph Pulitzer. I was entrusted by Mr. Mark Twain to bring him something." Chen Jianqiu took out the thick envelope from his saddle bag.
The old housekeeper looked the yellow-skinned man up and down.
This man was dressed in cowboy clothes, and he still smelled like a horse. Although the gleaming gold belt around his waist was valuable, it didn't change the fact that he was a country bumpkin.
What's more, he is a Chinese.
"Put your things at the door." The butler didn't intend to open the door.
Just as Chen Jianqiu was about to leave the envelope at the door, a voice suddenly came from inside the room: "Lu Ben, who is outside?"
"A Chinese, sir, sent by Mr. Mark Twain," said the old butler.
But Chen Jianqiu was not interested in listening to the conversation between the two, so he turned around and left.
"Mr. Chen! Please stop!"
Chen Jianqiu turned his head.
The door of the house was suddenly opened, and a middle-aged man with glasses and a beard appeared at the door.
It seems that this gentleman is the famous Joseph Pulitzer.
"Excuse me, are you Mr. Chen Jianqiu?" He asked politely.
"Yes." Chen Jianqiu gave a rather short answer.
"Mr. Mark Twain mentioned you to me. If it's convenient, can you come in and sit down?" Pulitzer coughed and made a gesture of invitation.
After thinking about it, Chen Jianqiu followed Pulitzer into the house.
They came to the yard behind the house.
There was a table in the yard with two chairs beside it. Obviously, this newspaper tycoon had afternoon tea here on weekdays.
"Please sit down, Mr. Chen." Pulitzer pointed to one of the chairs, and he himself sat on the other one.
Chen Jianqiu handed him the manuscript of Mark Twain.
Puli strategically flipped through the manuscripts: "Mr. Mark Twain's pen is still so sharp and sharp."
He has been coughing, his complexion is very bad, and he seems to be in poor health.
After coughing again, the middle-aged man took out a handkerchief and covered his mouth.
He put the manuscript on the table, and apologized again and again: "I'm sorry, Mr. Chen, the past two years of my newspaper career have affected my health, which is why the doctor advised me to come to San Francisco for vacation."
Chen Jianqiu didn't speak, he was actually a little curious about what this person wanted from him.
When he was separated from Mark Twain before, his identity seemed to be a kidnapper suspected of kidnapping Master Astor.
Does this Mr. Pulitzer also need to kidnap someone?
"I've heard of your name from more than one person," Pulitzer said. "If I remember correctly, you should be the majority shareholder of the Santa Fe Railroad."
"Oh?" Chen Jianqiu was a little strange, is he so famous?
Seeing him a little puzzled, Pulitzer 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 I have left a deep impression on those Yankees.
Pulitzer continued: "To be honest, you don't look like a Chinese at all."
"I'm the same as them." Chen Jianqiu replied coldly, "same yellow skin, black eyes."
"Oh, no, no, no, you misunderstood me." Pulitzer shook his head hastily and explained, "I mean, in the United States, as a Chinese, if you want to achieve your achievements, A very difficult thing."
"Is there anything you want from me?" Chen Jianqiu didn't want to continue this topic, he was going to ask Pulitzer's purpose clearly, and then left.
"Oh, here's the thing. The French plan to send us a bronze statue to celebrate freedom. I've seen the blueprint of that statue. It's a goddess holding a torch." Pulitzer adjusted his glasses.
"Well, I've heard of this statue." Chen Jianqiu nodded.
"However, there is a problem now." Pulitzer frowned, "The cost of building the statue has been raised, but the cost of the base of the statue has not yet been settled. I asked their professional opinions, it probably takes $25."
"So, I would like to ask you, as the chairman of the Santa Fe Railway Company, are you interested in donating to this project?" Pulitzer looked at Chen Jianqiu.
He has seen many rich people, but this one in front of him is a bit 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 railways 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 of it, and blurted out:
"She represents that our country is a country of freedom. She uses the torch in her hand to illuminate the road to freedom for everyone who comes here. Everyone who yearns for freedom is welcome here..."
"Except for the Chinese, right?" Chen Jianqiu looked at Pulitzer calmly, with a glow on his back.
"You want me to donate to the pedestal of a statue that symbolizes 'freedom' while millions of my fellow citizens are being treated unfairly and kept out of our borders by a program?"
There was no change of emotion on Chen Jianqiu's face, but the facts he said were cold and cruel.
Pulitzer was a little ashamed. He felt it was difficult to face the young man in front of him, and he didn't know what to say for a while.
"If there is nothing else, I will take my leave first." Chen Jianqiu was about to get up and leave.
Suddenly, he suddenly lifted his foot and kicked Pulitzer who was sitting next to him on the chair.
And almost at the same time, a gunshot sounded from outside the yard.
A bullet crossed the place where Pulitzer had been sitting.
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