The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 679 Long Live California Paradise!
"The Americans are coming, the devil is coming."

When the horses' hooves of Anderson's squadron crushed the wooden boards of the Stockton Wharf, exclamations in Spanish rang out one after another. The veteran who had participated in the Mexican-American War immediately became excited, as if he was once again in that war in which the United States had won a great victory!

"Burn! Burn it all!" Anderson's saber knocked down a Mexican fisherman who was in a panic and ran into him.

In theory, this Mexican is also an American, an American with nationality and the right to vote! But in reality, the real white masters in California don’t care about the descendants of these “losers”. Not only do they not respect their citizenship rights, they also try every means to seize their land - they have already lost the war, so why should they occupy the land of California? If they refuse to go back to Mexico, then they can just die!
The cavalrymen who followed Anderson to charge Stockton were all pure Anglo-Americans. Upon hearing the lieutenant's order, they immediately threw out torches soaked in kerosene, and smoke instantly rose from the houses where Mexicans lived. A Mexican woman wrapped in a headscarf rushed out of the fire with a baby in her arms, and the baby's swaddling clothes were already on fire. Anderson's saber chopped her shoulders, and the woman fell to the ground with her face up and screamed. The spear tip of Anderson's "Lancer Johnson" pierced the baby's swaddling clothes.

On the second floor of a salted fish warehouse near the dock. Murrieta's one eye stared at everything through the blinds, his fingers almost crushing the wooden handle of the Colt's revolver. He had known for a long time that those Americans (in fact, Murrieta himself was an American) were not human, but he didn't expect them to be so inhumane - according to that broken treaty, the white people (Mexican white people) in the California territory ceded to the United States were also considered American citizens! How can you "superior whites" from the East Coast be killed at will?

His deputy Raphael brought three clay pots with wax-soaked linen covering their mouths. "Boss, the 'Hellfire' given by the Chinese is ready."

"Well, it's time to let the Anglo bastards have a taste of hell." Murrieta used a dagger to pry open the wax seal. The smell of sulfur mixed with the scent of bitter almonds made people's temples swell.

When the seventh shack was set on fire, Murrieta kicked open the warehouse door, and then two hundred Mexican riders rushed out of the alley like a god, with revolvers hanging on their saddles, as well as ancestral lassoes and machetes for cutting sugar cane.

Murrieta raised his hand and shot Anderson's military cap off, then screamed in Spanish: "The Chinese are here to help us! Long live California Paradise!"

Pedro, the old shoemaker who had been cowering in the wine cellar, was stunned. He saw several Chinese militiamen and Mexican riders rushing out of the alley, their M1841 rifles equipped with gleaming bayonets; he saw the double-shovel wheat-ear flag of the Chinese Labor Union being held high by a Mexican teenager, who was shouting in Spanish: "Workers of the world, unite!"

"Kill the Yankees!" Old Pedro trembled and took out an old flintlock pistol. The sixty-year-old seemed to have returned to the days when he was fighting against the invading American army as a Mexican. His daughter-in-law picked up the iron pan for frying corn tortillas and threw it hard at an American cavalryman who was rushing towards her!

Anderson's left leg was suddenly entangled by a lasso. The veteran who had once massacred half a company of Mexicans was "lassoed" off his horse before he could keep his balance. Then he was hit hard on the hard stone road. The last thing he saw was Murrieta's hideous face with one eye blinded and chopped off, and a deadly revolver.
Stockton's Chinatown is not big, with only one main street and several alleys, but it is quite prosperous - today, Chinese Californians control 70 to 80 percent of the state's food and daily necessities supply, and all Chinatowns are lined with shops.

Lieutenant McClellan and his men got a lucrative job this time!
After they rushed into Chinatown, they started looting and burning like crazy - the prices in California have been going crazy recently, and life is not easy for these Anglo-Saxon masters who serve as cavalrymen, so now they can rob as much as they can!

Lieutenant McClellan took the lead and chopped open the door of a shop. Inside was full of baskets of eggs! Baskets of eggs that cost a dollar each in Sacramento. The lieutenant, who had not eaten fried eggs for half a month, rolled his Adam's apple, got off his horse and was about to grab the eggs, but suddenly he heard gunshots and shouts from the street outside: "Yellow monkey."

McClellan reached out and picked up a basket of eggs, turned around and walked out of the shop. He turned his head to look at where the gunshots came from, and saw two pottery jars suddenly flying out from the end of the alley. The first one hit the center of the cavalry column, and something touched the horse's mane and immediately burst into flames. The blue-green flames ran along the shiny fur and onto the cavalry's cowhide belt; the second one exploded under the sign of a rice shop, and iron sand swept down seven or eight horses like a rainstorm. A cavalry platoon leader who was a relative of McClellan was pierced through the eye socket by an iron nail and fell off the horse with a scream.

The miner who was so scared that he couldn't light the fuse under the big wooden bridge in Stockton, now with a breath of alcohol on his mouth, rushed out desperately with a clay jar filled with picric acid and a handful of nails.

McClellan quickly threw away the egg, pulled out his pistol, and "emptied the revolver" at the Chinese man!
"May God bless you, Father God!" Jin A Bing shouted slogans in Cantonese. His mind was full of the scene before the True Yorkists came to America, when he and a dozen of his fellow countrymen were shot to death by the white mine owner one by one. The white mine owner did this just to avoid paying the wages he owed for a year! At that time, A Bing ran away desperately. He would never forget the appearance of the mine owner, which was the appearance of McClellan.

When McClellan's bullet pierced A Bing's shoulder, the pot in A Bing's hand also came towards McClellan. The cavalry lieutenant quickly swung his saber and chopped the pot with one blow. The picric acid crystals reflected a deadly light in the sun. The blast overturned the entire bluestone road. Jin A Bing was thrown seven or eight steps away by a gust of hot wind, and the hands of McClellan's gold-plated pocket watch stopped forever at 8:17.

In front of Stockton City Hall.

Sherman hid behind an overturned carriage and saw through the telescope that his adjutant was rolling in a sea of ​​fire. The young man was showing off the letter from his fiancée yesterday, but now he was rolling on the ground like a burning man until a "mercy" bullet pierced his head!
With his death, Sherman's first wave of attack on the city hall also failed completely. Apart from eleven dead and eight wounded, nothing was gained. "Report! Captain Anderson was dragged behind his horse by the Mexicans." The signalman's voice was crying, "Lieutenant McClellan was blown to pieces with his horse."

"What? Mexicans too." Colonel Sherman knew that the True Yorkists were good at fighting - they had won their position in California by fighting! So he himself was not very supportive of anti-Chinese sentiment, but he did not expect that Mexicans could fight now! Could it be that the habit of fighting could be transmitted from person to person?

"Drive out the Americans, long live California!"

At this time, Sherman suddenly heard cheers in Spanish coming from the Mexican community in the north!

"Drive out the Americans?" Sherman was so angry that his beard stood up. Aren't those Mexicans Americans?
"Traitor!" Sherman roared. Just as he was about to order his men to go to the Mexican community and kill people, he suddenly heard someone shouting, "Reinforcements, the enemy's reinforcements are coming!"

There is heavy smoke and dust west of Stockton!

Three hundred Mongolian cavalrymen, led by Amur, a former subordinate of Senggelinqin, were galloping back and forth, dragging pine branches with their horses' tails. The Khorchin man deliberately opened his sheepskin coat to reveal the bronze medal of "Loyal and Brave Captain" awarded by the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom (a nominal title used to appease Mongolia and the former Qing subordinates who surrendered in Shanxi), and said to Lai Wenguang in Beijing dialect: "Mr. Zhang San used to tie a broom to the treetop at Changbanpo."

"Retreat! Retreat across the board!" Sherman had never read Romance of the Three Kingdoms, and was fooled by Luo Guanzhong's strategy. How could he dare to fight? He quickly issued the order to retreat, then turned around and got on the warhorse that the guards had brought to him, and led the way out of Stockton.
At sunset, Sushun found Jin A Bing outside a cloth shop. This Cantonese boy had been shot three or four times, and his blood was all over the floor. In his hand, he was holding a revolver tightly.
"Father." Jin A Bing held Su Shun's hand and was giving his last words, "Burn me into ashes and scatter them in the Pearl River. My sister will worship me on the Ghost Festival. Brothers, A Bing is here. A Bing will help you get revenge!"

Sushun looked at the militia who was gradually becoming silent, and suddenly thought of his own national hatred and family feuds, and could not help but sigh.

In the distance, the sound of Mexicans rejoicing could be heard. Six white miners were hung outside Crocker Bank, and Murrieta was slitting their throats one by one with his ancestral Toltec dagger. Several Mexican children dipped sticks in blood and drew the crooked words "Viva México" (Long Live Mexico) on the wall.

In the square, the Mongolian cavalrymen brought by Amur were distributing California wine. A young cavalryman even took out a comic book of "Romance of the Three Kingdoms", pointed at the pictures inside, and showed his companions how Zhang Fei used a trick to coax Cao Mengde away.

Xianfeng stood on the second floor of the Municipal Building, looking at the small city in front of him, immersed in the joy of victory, and suddenly said to Lai Wenguang and Lei Laohu beside him: "This seems to be my first victory!"

Lai Wenguang said with a smile: "Nan Yi Jin Fu Ma, you did a good job. You will win battles frequently in the future!"

Lei Lao Hu asked, "Bishop Lai, Prince Consort Zhao, what should we do next? Should we march to Sacramento?"

Xianfeng shook his head: "No, we should wait!"

"What are you waiting for?" Lai Wenguang asked - he had just arrived in the United States and didn't know the true situation of the United States as a country, nor did he know much about the situation in California.

Xianfeng said: "Wait for the masters on Capitol Hill in Washington to make a move, and wait for the Yankees in Sacramento to run out of food!"

(End of this chapter)