The mage in the late Qing Dynasty

The atmosphere at the scene became tense.

Mahanda sneered, ready to watch the fun.

The officials of the Qing Dynasty were like this. When there was a conflict between Chinese and foreigners, most of them had to consider their international friends.

Let them bite the bullet.

Paul Perriette was a simple scientist. He felt that although Zhao Chuanxin spoke freely, it could not be called a crime, so he wanted to speak out to deal with him.

Morrison was a step faster: "Yu Dutong, please keep the net open, the Taoist priest just said it unintentionally..."

But Yu Dutong was extremely angry and didn't listen at all: "Take it down!"

Zhao Chuanxin suddenly looked up at the sky and said sadly: "The sky is so thick, the soil is so thick, open your eyes and take a look. This country in the capital is not afraid of foreign powers spying on military aircraft, but instead wants to harm its own compatriots!"

Everyone: "..."

I never expected that he would come out like this.

The weather in the northwest is very dry, with 29 sunny days out of 30 in a month.

But strangely enough, as Zhao Chuanxin finished speaking, a strong wind blew on the ground.

The wind is so strong that it makes people unable to open their eyes and tears streaming down their cheeks.

at this time.

"boom!"

There was a gunshot.

The wind stopped.

Yu Dutong let out a painful scream.

Mahanda was seen holding a Mosin Nagant revolver, with the muzzle pointed at Yu Dutong.

Yu Dutong was shot in the thigh and was bleeding profusely.

Mahanda was confused.

The others were stunned.

Zhao Chuanxin pointed at Mahanda: "Okay, the foreigners are really bold, and they actually assassinated the first-rank military attache of the imperial court in this city."

Mahanda hurriedly defended: "It wasn't me, I didn't shoot..."

When the wind blew violently, he raised his arms to shield his eyes.

Then gunfire rang out.

He was startled and instinctively wanted to put down his arms to see what happened.

But at this moment, a gun suddenly appeared in his hand.

He instinctively held the gun...

Zhao Chuanxin pointed at him and yelled: "You bitch, you still want to argue? Your holster is empty, you have a gun in your hand, and you still say you didn't assassinate the capital?"

Morrison also beat his chest and stamped his feet: "I'm so confused..."

Yu Dutong looked at his bleeding thigh, his nose was out of breath and crooked, he pointed at Mahanda and said, "Get him."

Mahanda glanced at the revolver at this time and shouted hurriedly: "Wait a minute, my name is engraved on my sidearm, but this gun obviously does not. The gun is not mine."

Mahanda, whose real name was Carl Gustav Emil Mannerheim.

He is actually a declining aristocrat of Tsarist Russia, and he still holds the title of baron.

He graduated from the Royal Cavalry School of Tsarist Russia, participated in the Russo-Japanese War, and served as an officer in the Tsarist Cavalry Guards Corps.

In the future, this person's life will be called a legend and magical.

His pistol was engraved with "Carl."

But obviously the gun in his hand was not engraved at this time.

Zhao Chuanxin immediately said: "Haha, you said engraving is just engraving? Then where is your gun? Pindao suggests a search to see who took your gun. If no one took it, it means you lied."

As he said that, he took off his Taoist robe first and shook it off for a while. Nothing fell off. His clothes underneath were very thin and it was obvious whether he had a gun or not.

Zhao Chuanxin put on his Taoist robe again: "Okay, do you still want to quibble?"

Who is the most suspect here?

With Morrison's status and connections in the capital, there was no reason for him to do such a thing.

Paul Perriette, who had been with Mahanda for more than a year, also had no motive.

Then it can only be Mahanda.

Mahanda forced herself to calm down.

He first slowly placed the revolver on the ground and raised his hands: "I have no ill intentions. I request to contact the Russian Embassy."

Then he was taken down.

Before leaving, Mahanda shouted: "Paul, help me contact the Russian embassy..."

No one came to arrest Zhao Chuanxin, and the real owner Yu Dutong was carried away to heal his injuries.

As for Morrison and Paul Perrier, they were both foreigners, and the capital would never dare to detain them without direct serious conflict.

Zhao Chuanxin, Morrison and Paul Perrier left the city.

Morrison frowned: "How could Mahanda do such a thing?"

"Mr. Morrison, I have thought of something suspicious." Paul Perriet said: "On the way, Mahanda not only recorded the local customs and customs, but also visited the local garrison wherever he went. I am far more interested in these than in scientific research..."

The implication is that Mahanda may have planned what will happen today.

Morrison suddenly glanced at Zhao Chuanxin, who was smiling, and his doubts reappeared in his heart.

After bidding farewell to Paul Perriette, Morrison asked: "Master Taoist, this matter..."

Zhao Chuanxin put away his smile and looked pitiful: "Hey, what a human tragedy. You must not imitate this."

"Me, how could I follow suit..."

"Haha, let's just say goodbye. Pindao is going shopping."

"Wait, Taoist Priest, where do you live?"

"It's a bitter cold place with lots of wind and sand, it's smelly all day long, and the air is very bad. There's no scholar talking or laughing, people are just walking around. The place is full of villains who grab food with cow dung on their hands. It's a place where There are also knife-wielding maniacs with blood on their hands, and weird people who look as pale as mental patients. I advise you not to go."

"..." It sounded really bad. Morrison thought that this might be a way of self-cultivation. He asked again: "Taoist Priest, you traveled all over the world until you reached a place in the desert called 'Arixi'." Is it a place? Some people say that there are lush vegetation and delicious food everywhere, just like a pearl in the desert."

Zhao Chuanxin had never heard of it: "Maybe it's in the eastern part of the desert, where there are many lakes and springs."

Not only did Zhao Chuanxin shift the blame to Mahanda, but he also took advantage of his money.

After separating from Morrison, he fluttered his clothes and finished shopping for the remaining things with a smile on his face.

…

Benjamin Goldberg is gone for a few more days.

He missed the food he had with his master very much, eating a variety of cuisines from all over the world.

Arriving at a house, the herdsmen here are half pastoralists and half farmers, and the main crop is highland barley.

Benjamin Goldberg offered to use their place, cook some food, and stay the night.

He took out a small piece of turquoise: "This is a gift for you."

This family had no heirs but two daughters. Since the eldest daughter was close to Benjamin Goldberg, he gave the turquoise to the eldest daughter.

The turquoise was purchased by Benjamin Goldberg in Hubei, and he had given it away a lot along the way. This thing was a stepping stone in Tibet, and the beads on the string were like mobile passbooks.

The eldest daughter Ram happily took it. She is tall and plump, and her skin color is much whiter than other Tibetan women Benjamin Goldberg has seen, but the calluses on her palms are still very thick.

When Benjamin Goldberg touched it, it felt like his fingers were running through sandpaper.

Benjamin Goldberg saw her cutting some hay and seemed to be preparing to tie up the broom.

Benjamin Goldberg said in blunt Tibetan: "Weave it into small bundles and divide it into ten sections. It will be very strong."

Tibetan, like Chinese, is also divided into dialects, which vary from region to region.

Ram smiled even more happily when he saw that this half-year-old foreigner could also speak Tibetan.

She motioned to Benjamin Goldberg to help her.

Benjamin Goldberg is slightly less hands-on.

He gave a rough signal and asked Ram to pinch a strand of hemp rope, Qi Gen tightened it, and then tied another strand.

Ram did as he was told, and the broom that came out was indeed very strong.

Ram put down the broom, took Benjamin Goldberg's hand and shook it for a while, and said a few words that even Benjamin Goldberg couldn't understand.

Benjamin Goldberg just smiled awkwardly and put his other hand on the back of Ram's hand: "Don't be like this, I am very conservative."

Ram chuckled.

He not only taught how to make brooms, but also selected a kind of hay and taught Ram how to extract fibers to weave straw hats.

In the evening, Benjamin Goldberg cut and rolled noodles and made a meal of beef noodles.

After the meal, Ram took Benjamin Goldberg’s hand and went to the white tent next to it.

Benjamin Goldberg saw that the tent was a bit new, a bit big, and the white color was too pure. He quickly waved his hand and said, "I'm still young. Living in a white tent is harmful to my health... I'll just live in the small shack next to it."