America 1881: They Call Me Legend

Master Chen, of course, is not referring to Chen Jianqiu himself.

Chen Jianqiu was also curious about who this well-established person was, so he came to Wanfu Tower.

The strange thing is that Wanfulou is located one street away from Chinatown. It is very close to Chinatown, but not in Chinatown.

This is a Chinese-style restaurant. The identity of the owner is unknown. The first floor entertains public guests and the second floor has private rooms.

Chen Jianqiu stepped into the restaurant. It was almost lunch time and the seats on the first floor were almost full. Most of them were businessmen passing by. The waiters shuttled among the people, calling orders and passing dishes.

A waiter at the door quickly noticed Chen Jianqiu. His cowboy outfit seemed a little out of place with the people around him. The waiter didn't see his face clearly and mistook him for a cowboy from nearby Denver.

"Sir, the first floor is almost full. I will find a way to free up a table for you.

Chen Jianqiu ignored him and walked directly to the second floor.

"Hey, sir, sir, there is someone on the second floor, you..."

The clerk tried to stop him, but was unable to do so. Chen Jianqiu had already climbed the stairs and headed towards the second floor.

At the entrance to the second floor, two braided soldiers with swords at their waists and rifles on their backs stood there. When they saw Chen Jianqiu's arrival, they pulled out their swords with a loud sound and stopped him.

"You adults are looking for me." Chen Jianqiu said.

"Let him come in." An old voice came from inside the box.

The two soldiers looked at each other and said to Chen Jianqiu: "Please hand over the gun."

Chen Jianqiu pulled out the revolver and handed it to the soldiers. The soldiers put away the sword and let Chen Jianqiu into the box.

The furnishings in the private room are very simple and elegant. The exquisite mahogany furniture looks valuable. There is an antique blue and white porcelain vase on the shelf by the window. There is a painting hanging on the white wall. Chen Jianqiu doesn't quite understand it, but from the lower left corner

The pile of signatures does not seem to be extraordinary.

An old man with a white beard stood with his hands behind his back. He wore a dark satin mandarin jacket with wide sleeves and a braid hanging down the back of his head.

"My name is Chen Lanbin, named Li Qiu." The old man turned his head and saw Chen Jianqiu's denim attire and his bare back. He looked unhappy, but he still held it back.

Chen Lanbin? Isn’t he the first Qing Dynasty minister to the United States? If he doesn’t stay in Washington, why is he in Denver?

Chen Jianqiu was silent. He wanted to see what kind of medicine this Qing Dynasty official was selling in his gourd.

"Do you know that your reward order is still hanging at the door of the Denver Police Station?" Chen Lanbin asked first when Chen Jianqiu didn't speak.

"What? Are you going to tie me up and transport me to a foreigner?" Chen Jianqiu said coldly.

Chen Lanbin took a deep breath, looked out the window, and said something irrelevant: "I'm going back next month."

"Last year, regarding the Denver incident, Mr. Chen sent several notes to the US Secretary of State. During the process, he negotiated and argued with each other, but the other party was perfunctory and prevaricated, and has yet to give a reasonable reply."

"As the minister to China, Li Qiu tried his best, but it was a pity that the country failed to protect the overseas Chinese."

Chen Lanbin let out a long sigh with a look of shame on his face: "I'm sorry for this. I just want to say goodbye before leaving."

"Then I dare to ask the dignified Lord Chen, what do you want from me, a commoner?" Chen Jianqiu looked cynical. He raised his head and looked directly at the Qing Dynasty official in front of him.

He was fed up with the self-narcosis of these scholar-bureaucrats.

"You are committing lawlessness in the United States. I can turn a blind eye, but you must not cause trouble again in Denver. Otherwise, the Chinese will no longer have a foothold."

Chen Lanbin did not look directly at the aggressive Chen Jianqiu, but continued to look out the window.

"Really? I dare to ask Mr. Chen, which Chinese made trouble here last year? Which Chinese was the first to commit the crime on Negros Street in Los Angeles ten years ago?"

Chen Jianqiu's every word is impactful and inspiring.

Chen Lanbin didn't know what to say for a moment.

At this time, there were sudden rapid footsteps on the stairs, and a young man broke in.

"Report, sir, that mud-legged guy is missing."

That person was the one who had been following Chen Jianqiu before, and he was panting at the moment.

When he saw Chen Jianqiu standing there, he immediately wanted to draw his sword, but Chen Jianqiu stepped forward and grabbed his throat.

The two soldiers at the door also reacted instantly, took off the guns from their backs, and pointed them at Chen Jianqiu.

"Cough, stop it!" Chen Lanbin coughed and said.

Chen Jianqiu let go of his hand and glanced at the young man with long braids:

"It's better to go back to China and be your adult. I'll continue to stay here and be my little bitch."

Just when Chen Jianqiu was about to turn around and leave, a burst of noise and yelling suddenly came from the window. Chen Jianqiu ran to the window and looked down. It was rare that his face suddenly changed color.

He rushed directly to the stairs.

When he passed the two soldiers at the door, he took out two steel knives from the scabbards on their waists, one in each hand, and rushed down.

The crowd on the first floor had retreated to the back, but they were all looking out through the windows.

"It's okay. We're not in Chinatown. It's okay." The owner of the restaurant came out from behind at some point. He asked his waiter to take down the plaque and seal the door panels.

But the door was kicked open, and a young man wearing a cowboy hat walked out of the restaurant under the gaze of everyone.

…

The Irish gangsters in the east of the city were mixed among the citizens. They were originally waiting for Senator Edwin's carriage to appear and give them a spiritual uplift.

However, they did not wait for the arrival of the congressman, but waited for the news that the congressman and their boss Murphy had died.

The citizens were just about to disperse, but someone in the crowd shouted: "They kill the congressmen! Kill the Chinese! Kill the abominable infidels! The Chinese must get out!"

The congressman did not have to be killed by Chinese, but he could have been, as long as it gave them an excuse to rob Chinatown.

A group of Irishmen had already rushed out of the crowd. They were holding prepared wooden sticks and axes. Some were shirtless, and some went to the roadside to pick up some bricks and stones.

Some bystanders also joined the rioting team.

The group of people marched in the direction of Chinatown.

At this time, the people in Chinatown did not know that the disaster was approaching. Some of them had experienced what happened last year, and some were new arrivals. Without exception, they all just wanted to survive in this place, even if it was in a perfunctory way.

.

When the rioting crowd appeared at the intersection of Chinatown, they were like a dark cloud. They were led by several vicious-looking thugs. They had all participated in last year's incident and could be said to be habitual offenders.

"The foreigners are coming!"

No matter who shouted out, no matter it was a pedestrian on the road or a vendor on the street; no matter it was a child, a woman, or a mature man, they all rolled around and ran away with their heads in their hands.

Chinatown suddenly became a mess.

A little girl was brought down on the road by the panicked crowd and cried loudly in fright.

The martial arts masters from several martial arts schools also turned around and ran away.

But a man blocked their way.

A loud shout, like a bell, resounded throughout the street.

"Why are you running! Where else are you going to run? Are you going to run back to the Qing Dynasty?"

This young man dressed as a cowboy walked to the corner of the street and took off his hat. He was not tall, but unusually tall.

He was holding two unsheathed steel knives, his skin was glowing bronze, and his eyes were burning with fire as he stared at the thugs in front of him.

One person can stop a thousand troops.

His eyes are like a ferocious tiger, and his energy is like a wolf.

"Stand behind me! Pick up your weapons! Cover the women and children!"

After saying that, I saw him stride forward, leap high into the air, and rush into the crowd without hesitation.