America 1881: They Call Me Legend

Apart from the person who drew the treasure map, George Lockhart was probably the first person to know its secret.

A few months ago, he died in an assassination on the streets of Denver.

Before he died, he left a bag. Chen Jianqiu guessed that the bag contained a backup copy of the human skin map and a notebook recording his understanding of the map.

And that bag fell into the hands of Pinkerton's hook-nosed Lynch.

As for the notebook that appeared in this carriage, Chen Jianqiu was not sure whether it was the one that Lin Qi got.

After all, Lockhart, as an archeology professor at the University of Denver who has written extensively, must have more than one private notebook, and as one of the richest men in the United States, it is not difficult for Master Astor to obtain a private notebook of the professor.

But if this notebook is really the one in Lynch's hand, then the situation is really hard to say.

Chen Jianqiu has never seen the man who has been following him from the beginning, but he has always felt his presence.

What did Mr. Astor come to New Mexico for? Is he also looking for treasure? What is the relationship between him and that man?

Chen Jianqiu did not trap himself in question marks, and his way of solving problems never relied on meditation.

So he looked away first and continued to look for other clues.

But Mark Twain’s wealthy fan meeting has come to an end.

As a literary giant, the writer can read ten lines at a glance. He was full of praise for the opening part of Master Astor's novel:

"Excellent, Mr. Astor. Not only do you have a lot of business acumen, but you are also very spiritual in your writing. This article is very imaginative. I think you must be a person who is keen on taking risks, right?"

Astor IV's eyes shone with light. For a man of his age, what could be more exciting than being appreciated by his idol?

"Ah? Are you telling the truth? Sir." Astor almost jumped up happily, "Yes, sir, I love adventure very much. Ever since I read your novel, I have been interested in unknown things."

Full of interest.”

He walked to another gorgeous low cabinet, opened the door, and took out a bottle of wine and two wine glasses. He poured half a glass and handed one of the glasses to the writer.

"Would you like a drink, sir? J&B, this is the best Scotch whiskey."

Mark Twain took the glass.

The young man didn't seem to realize that Chen Jianqiu was still in the carriage. He continued: "Sir, move to the carriage at the back. I'll cover your fare. From here onwards, it's all my carriage. We can

Let’s discuss more about literature.”

The writer's heart skipped a beat. His heart agreed, but his mouth hadn't figured out how to respond in a more gentlemanly way.

But what he didn't expect was that Chen Jianqiu, whom he didn't know a few hours ago, answered for him:

"Then where do we stay?"

Astor then remembered that there was someone else in the carriage. Russell told him that this person was Mark Twain's bodyguard.

"You can move around freely." Astor pointed to the Pinkerton detectives outside the door, "We have a very professional security team."

"But we haven't escorted Mr. Mark Twain to his destination yet!" Chen Jianqiu said seriously.

Astor thought for a while, suddenly realized, and waved to the servant: "Go and pay this gentleman for the security costs of Mr. Mark Twain's journey. They will pay as much as they want."

Chen Jianqiu suppressed his urge to offer 10,000 US dollars. He shook his head and his expression became more serious: "Sir, you are insulting our professionalism."

The wine in Astor's mouth almost spit out.

Professionalism? These New Mexico bumpkins have professionalism? What’s more, they are Asians! You just want more, right?

The white-haired old man gently poked Chen Jianqiu's waist from behind, and said softly: "I'll give you a little more, and it's almost done."

Only then did Chen Jianqiu realize that this old man might not be a servant, but a housekeeper.

But Chen Jianqiu still shook his head and said righteously: "Protecting Mr. Mark Twain's safety along the way is our commitment as protectors. I just want to fulfill our duties!"

Mark Twain looked at Chen Jianqiu's serious look. For a moment, he almost thought that this man was his bodyguard. He was so moved that he shed tears.

He put down the wine glass in his hand and looked at Astor: "How about you watch?"

Astor slapped his head: "Okay, let's get a few of you over here. You don't have much luggage, right? Let's go to the Pinkerton carriage."

"Okay, Your Excellency."

The writer and Astor IV continued to discuss literary issues in the luxury carriage, while Chen Jianqiu withdrew.

He saw Russell at the door again.

Russell stood at the door and heard all the conversation in the carriage. He now regretted that he mentioned the dead star in front of him when he reported the situation to Astor.

"Although we are colleagues, there is no competitive relationship between us." Chen Jianqiu still had the same expression. He stretched out his hand to Russell. Russell was filled with hatred, not to mention that the opposite person was an Asian yellow man and turned his head directly.

Just left.

Chen Jianqiu returned to his carriage.

"How was it?" Sean asked.

"Go, improve your life, and return the carriage!"

He handed the denim bag containing US dollars to the Dannys and asked them to take care of Holmes in the car.

He called Feiniao, Sean, and Adam, and returned to the luxury car.

When they returned there, they found that the writer and Astor had disappeared.

This carriage was not Astor's bedroom, it was just a place where he received guests and occasionally wrote books.

Behind, there is a sleeper car with an aisle and several rooms. The doors of the rooms are all closed and they seem to be occupied by people. Chen Jianqiu guessed that Mark Twain should live in one of the bedrooms.

Going to the back is the car where the Pinkertons are located. There are only seats here, but even so, the environment is much more luxurious than the most upscale dining cars on most trains at that time.

The Pinkertons were lined up, so there were usually only two or three people in the carriage, and most of them took the time to lie down on the table and sleep.

Now that the trains are stuck, their manpower is even more stretched.

Further inside, there is a restricted area. There are two people guarding the entrance of the carriage with guns in their hands. According to them, Chen Jianqiu and the others do not need to know what is behind them. They only need to take care of the carriage in front.

Chen Jianqiu and the others sat in their seats and took a nap until sunset.

The butler wheeled a cart over and handed them their supper: cream soup and stewed potatoes.

"Sorry, I can only provide you with these simple meals in the car."

Chen Jianqiu picked up a piece of potato and stuffed it into his mouth: "How are the people in the car in front?"

"Some of them are still waiting, and some have already got off the train and found other modes of transportation." After the housekeeper finished speaking, he pushed the car and left the carriage.

Pinkerton's detectives also quickly finished their dinner and returned to their respective posts.

Night fell, the moonlight shone on the wasteland of Mexico State, and most of the train's carriages were plunged into darkness. Only Pinkerton's detectives carried kerosene lamps and patrolled back and forth between the carriages.

Sean, who had just eaten and drank enough, was lying on a chair and counting the stars in the sky through the car window.

But his hat was knocked off with a slap.

Chen Jianqiu's voice sounded in his ears:

"Stop being lazy, get up and get to work!"