Volume 1: A sound on Wall Street, Xinxiang City is busy copying books Chapter 146 The Wind Rises
This chapter's subtitle: Don't worry about the low quality of your future
Yuan Yanshu looked at the latest ancient Chinese fantasy novel that appeared in the database and felt that her status had reached a new level.
In fact, his status has really improved, not because of this Chinese-English translation, but because of his original article "Several Questions About William II"...
"Boy, give me a copy of the New York Times, and... a copy of Le Monde."
The Oriental man who was buying the newspapers took the two newspapers from the newsboy who was not much shorter than him, tucked them under his armpit, and walked on the tree-lined path of the Harvard campus with a unique military gait.
The lights were already on, and the electric lights invented by Edison were naturally lit in this top American university. This Asian man, who had a delicate face and a calm temperament, but was too short, looked up at the bright street lights and couldn't help but sigh in his heart.
A gust of cold wind blew, and he shivered. He unconsciously quickened his pace and came to a small restaurant.
After entering the store, the man sat down and ordered a simple meal.
"Your coffee, sir."
"Thanks."
As soon as the man saw the waitress turn around to greet other guests, he quickly picked up the sugar jar on the table with his left hand (which was missing his index and middle fingers), and poured all the sugar in it into his coffee cup like a magic trick.
He lost these two fingers in the Russo-Japanese Battle of Tsushima, and was nicknamed "Eighty Cents" because geishas paid one cent for each nail trim, while he only had to pay eighty cents.
As for why he loves candy so much, it is not because he loves sweets like Yuan Yanshu, a native of Wuxi, but because he wants to use it to "consume" America's national strength... What a "cute" neon gold.
He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to him, stuck out his tongue and made a face, then frowned and took a sip of the cloyingly sweet coffee, then opened the newspaper and started reading...
"What?! An evil country with tentacles all over the world?!"
"Sure enough. The author is indeed the Chinese man involved in the Wall Street bombing..."
"Yoshi. People with this kind of insight and courage can be called Chinese.!”
If the Japanese devils in Massachusetts saw this article written by the Chinese, then the German devils living in Pennsylvania would naturally also see the good article written by their students.
“Clatter…”
The wind got stronger, not only rustling the newspaper in his hand, but also making the reader feel a chill deep in his bones. He turned up the collar of his windbreaker, folded the newspaper and put it in his pocket.
Professor Chandler stood alone under a street lamp at the back door of the court. Although his back was still straight, the not-too-bright light still showed that the wrinkles on his face had become deeper, and there were more dots of light reflecting at his temples.
Compared to the Teutonic Knight professor who discussed Yuan Yanshu's doctoral thesis with last month, he really looked much older and more haggard.
Professor Julian Chandler pressed his hat and thought to himself, this Neo Yuan, how did I know at the beginning that he was really, really, really... such a Chinese.
He was no different from a real gentleman except for his skin color. It was hard to believe that he had anything to do with the Wall Street bombing. Of course, it was even more unbelievable that he actually defended William II.
His only son was put on trial just for publishing an article opposing the war with Germany. What he is doing now is really courting his own death...
Wait, this Chinese guy is really not a fool who treats his life as a joke. How could such a fool win half a million dollars and donate it to New York University without blinking an eye?
Professor Chandler, who had rich experience in life, could see that Yuan Yanshu's move was definitely a "brilliant move" that had to be made. The brilliant thing was that it made those who had bet against him suffer, but also made them unable to complain, and even had to thank this Chinese man.
As for the 500,000 US dollars, my Chinese student should also understand that this is a huge amount of money that is very hot to handle. If he really had to seriously recover it one by one, he would probably be lying in the morgue instead of the hospital room.
Would an intelligent person who is well-versed in political economics, understands current affairs and has insight into human nature really seek his own death?
If my students see something that I, as a teacher, don’t, then that means…
It means that there has been a turn for the better in his son’s case!
“Bang!”
There was a muffled bang from the back door of the court.
A team of bailiffs came out of the slowly opened door, escorting several prisoners. The leading officer saw Professor Chandler standing there at a glance. Both of them nodded slightly, as a greeting.
The police officer turned around and shouted, "Take these prisoners away first, and this prisoner can get in the next car."
And "this prisoner" looks about five or six points similar to Professor Chandler. This typical Aryan young man could be said to be quite handsome. Unfortunately, he now has one eye, one larger than the other, a crooked nose, and a large, hideous scar on his cheek, making his face look like a crudely made human skin mask, which is not very comfortable to look at.
The uneven eyes are due to the aftereffects of poison gas, and the wounds on the nose and cheeks are actually the "medals" this former US Army officer received on the French front.
The handcuffed prisoner did not look depressed at all. Instead, he said in high spirits, "Dad, you are here."
Professor Chandler forced a smile and said, "Little Yuri, you performed very well in court today."
The former U.S. military officer shrugged his shoulders and said nonchalantly: "It's just some battlefield experiences. If my lawyer hadn't asked me to say so, I really don't want to recall those things."
"No, no, no." His father waved his hands. "You impressed the jury."
Mr. Chandler sighed and asked, "By the way, Dad, do you have a newspaper? I want to see the progress of the Wall Street bombing."
"Yes." Professor Chandler handed over the newspaper.
His son pointed to the photo of Yuan Yanshu writing despite being ill in the newspaper and said, "I heard he was your student."
“Yes, he is really my student.. "
