The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 756: "Liberator" Nicholas Zhao Si (Seeking monthly tickets!)

Xianfeng narrowed his eyes and looked at the smoke from the Union Army outpost in the distance. Suddenly he smiled and said, "Who said I want to cross the Missouri River?"

Lin Shu was startled: "But you ordered the entire army to prepare river crossing equipment just last month..."

"Warfare is the art of deception," Xianfeng said softly, "I want to go south, to southern Missouri!"

Lin Shu showed a worried look and whispered, "Master, even if we really want to surrender to the North, we don't have to march into southern Missouri, right? Lincoln didn't let us do that! Besides, we have already controlled the entire Colorado, and Amur Buddha occupies Idaho, and Brigham Young's Mormons in Utah are willing to exchange salt and grain for autonomy. If we return to Denver now to prepare, and take over Nevada in the fall, we will have the Rocky Mountains behind us and the Great Plains in the future..."

Xianfeng shook his head and said, "No matter how big the territory is, it's useless if there's no one to farm and graze. The big valleys in the Rocky Mountains can indeed be used to support the army, and the gold and silver mines can be exchanged for foreign guns and cannons, but what we lack are living people. Last year, we spent half a year in Kansas, Missouri, and Nevada, and only captured 20,000 to 30,000 people, most of whom were white."

"But southern Missouri is the territory of the Confederacy. Lincoln is trying to recruit you on the surface, but in fact he has no good intentions..." Lin Shu hesitated to speak.

"That's why!" Xianfeng gritted his teeth and said, "We are going south under the banner of liberating black slaves. We can not only rob people and food, but also get the title of 'liberator'. Once we have taken hundreds of thousands of black slaves into the mountains, who among Lincoln and Davis will dare to underestimate us? Even if the war between the white people is over, as long as we have people with guns and food, we can guard the pass of the Rocky Mountains and rely on the three states on the west coast to establish our own regime! Otherwise, when the white people conquer the world, we will be finished!"

After saying this, Xianfeng suddenly pointed his whip to the south, raised his voice suddenly, and ordered in English: "Order! All troops turn around - target southern Missouri!"

The soldiers on the wilderness were in a commotion. Belle Watling, the female chief of the imperial guards, thought for a moment and then gently reminded them, "Governor, you are the governor appointed by President Davis. Southern Missouri is the territory of the Confederacy."

"I am the governor of the South. Can't I go to the southern territory?" Xianfeng asked Bell Watling with a smile.

Bell nodded quickly and said, "Of course you can go. Why are you going to southern Missouri?"

"Go to the South." Xianfeng's English suddenly became clear and fluent, and each syllable sounded like the firing pin of a Gatling gun. "Free the slaves!"

Xianfeng opened his throat and shouted: "Listen! Millions of black brothers are locked up in the plantations in the South, and Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation is just empty words. The Eight Banners Law and the Three Feudatories Ordinance passed on Capitol Hill in Washington have been turned into something like waste paper by those insects who hold high the banner of the supremacy of state rights. From today on, the Black Wall Brigade will be the real liberators!"

The reins in Bell's hand fell to the saddle with a snap. It was one thing to surrender to the North, but to take the initiative to go south to liberate the slaves? This meant completely betraying the South, and they would directly become enemies of all the slave states!
A terrifying light flashed in Zeng Ke's eyes, and the Black Wall Brigade following Xianfeng fell into an eerie silence. Only the prayer wheel of the Zhenyue army chaplain continued to turn in the wind.

Suddenly, Zeng Ke drew out his saber and slashed it in mid-air, shouting, "Liberation!"

“Liberation!” “Liberation!” “Liberation!”

The roar spread like wildfire, and the black soldiers pounded the ground with the butts of their rifles, knocked their stirrups with their boot heels, and slapped their chests with their calloused hands.

Xianfeng let the wind mess up his red cape. He caught a glimpse of Linshu marking the marching route on a sheepskin map, Bell's blue eyes looking in the direction of his hometown Atlanta, and "Black Wall" Zeng Ke was already riding his horse to the front of the column - holding a "Black Wall" flag in his hand, fluttering against the wind, towards southern Missouri.

In Lincoln's office, the fire in the fireplace crackled, reflecting his face, which was sunken due to long-term work. His fingers holding the telegram trembled slightly, as if he was holding not a thin piece of paper, but the fate of the entire Union.

"Gentlemen!" He raised his head suddenly, his eyes were sharp, his voice was hoarse but full of power, "The balance of war has finally tilted! America has won again, again, again!"

During this period, Lincoln really "wins every day"! First, "Namo Gatlin", then the New York shipyard launched an ironclad ship or started construction every few days, and now Nicholas Zhao Si actually turned against him. He won!
Half an hour later, the East Room of the Presidential Palace was packed with reporters, and the dazzling white light of the spotlights flashed one after another. Lincoln stood on the podium, with the Stars and Stripes and the federal eagle emblem behind him, and his figure looked particularly tall under the lights.

"Citizens of America!" His voice echoed in the hall. "Today, we received a piece of news that could change the situation of the war - Nicholas Zhao Si, the Confederate general who once caused great suffering to the federal army, has now turned his guns around and marched south!"

There was an instant burst of exclamations from the audience, pencils slid wildly on the notebooks, and the reporters stared with wide eyes, afraid of missing a word.

"He didn't come to surrender!" Lincoln slammed his fist on the podium, "He went to free the slaves!"

The cheers almost blew off the roof. Lincoln took a deep breath and continued: "What is the foundation of the Confederacy? Slavery! And today, a general of the Southern Army is destroying this foundation with his own hands! What does this mean?"

He paused for a second, looked around the room, and then said decisively:

"This means - victory is in sight! We are going to win!"

On Wall Street, inside the New York Stock Exchange, there is a bustling crowd.

The price of Northern Federal bonds soared like a rocket, the roars of traders were deafening, the numbers on the quotation board jumped wildly, and every refresh drew cheers. Huang Shiren stood in the second-floor box, overlooking this capital carnival with cold eyes. He held the priceless telegram in his hand - "Zhao Si's false surrender, bonds are bullish", and a smug smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. "Mr. Huang," the boss of Lehman Brothers squeezed over with a smile on his face, "It seems that you bet right again, we can make at least $100 million this time."

Huang Shiren smiled faintly and did not answer. One million dollars is more than that! One million dollars is just the income from long Northern federal bonds and stocks in New York, and shorting Southern federal bonds and long cotton in London! Although the income in London has nothing to do with Huang Shiren, how could the "most knowledgeable about finance" Luo Wuwang not make this money?
Morgan Building, top floor office.

Dr. Gatling rubbed his teacup anxiously, and outside the window was the hustle and bustle of Wall Street. His Gatling machine gun had just performed brilliantly on the shooting range, but at this moment, the "good-hearted" Gatling seemed worried.

"Mr. Morgan," he said hesitantly, "if the war ends soon, my patent . . . "

"That's why," Morgan interrupted, a shrewd smile on his round face, "now is the best time to sell the patent."

He pulled a check from a drawer and gently pushed it toward Gatlin.

"One hundred thousand dollars." Morgan's voice was low and tempting. "Buy out your patent rights - including all improved models."

Gatlin stared at the check and his saliva was almost flowing down. This check contained 100,000 Greenback dollars of the Northern Federation. As long as the war was over, the Greenback dollars would become as valuable as "gold dollars" and "silver dollars".

"Think about it, doctor." Morgan lit up his cigar, and in the smoke, he threw out even more tempting conditions, "I also plan to set up a 'Morgan-Gatling' firearms company, which will specialize in the production and research and development of breech-loading rifles, machine guns and copper-cased bullets. If you are willing to join as chief engineer, I can give you 20% of the shares! Although the American Civil War will soon end, the world is not peaceful, and there must be many people who need our machine guns!"

Sullivan cotton plantation in southern Missouri.

As the sun sets, dozens of black slaves gather tremblingly in the manor square. In front of them is Zhao Si's army - the black soldiers of the Black Wall Brigade carrying rifles, the Indian cavalry of Red Cloud Khan carrying scimitars, and General Nicholas Zhao Si, riding on the pure black Virginia warhorse, looking down at everyone from above.

The slave owner, Master Sullivan, was a middle-aged man with a face full of flesh. At the moment, he was being held down on the shoulders by two black soldiers, and his face was pale.

"Listen," Xianfeng spoke in English, his voice was not loud, but it made everyone hold their breath, "According to the Eight Banners Law and the Three Feudatories Ordinance, slavery in the United States is abolished."

The black slaves stared in disbelief. What were the Eight Banners Law and the Three Feudatories Regulations? How come they had never heard of them? Was this the law of the South or the law of the North?

"You are serfs now!" Xianfeng announced.

What a surprise!
Black slaves turned into black serfs in seconds.
The slave owner, Master Sullivan, looked up suddenly and hissed, "What the hell is the difference? Isn't it still cotton?"

Xianfeng glared at him: "Of course there is a difference - progress has a price! Even if it is only from slaves to serfs, so they must now join my 'black, red and yellow' army and start from the lowest level of bondservants!"

Master Sullivan roared, "You are robbing!"

Xianfeng smiled. He leaned over, lifted the slave owner's chin with his whip, and whispered, "Colorado has gold mines, Nevada has silver mines...According to the rules of Colorado, Nevada, and Idaho, blacks have farms, reds have pastures, and yellows do business, while gold and silver mines are mined by the 'white flag people'. If you voluntarily hand over your serfs and stored grain, I will give you a small gold mine."

"Really, really?" Sullivan's eyes changed.

The slave owners in Missouri could not compare with the wealthy slave owners on the East Coast. Their industries were relatively small and they had fewer slaves. If they could exchange their own slaves and food for a small gold mine, they would make a fortune.

"Of course! I, Zhao Si, keep my word!" Xianfeng stood up and looked around at the slave owners: "Those who are willing to surrender can bring their families to dig for gold tomorrow."

The slave owners all looked as if they were stunned by the gold - they all knew that there were gold and silver mines in Colorado and Nevada.

Xianfeng nodded with satisfaction, then waved his hand: "Take it away!"

The black slaves were organized into teams, and the slave owners were taken to the camp to "discuss cooperation." As night fell, a bonfire was lit. Xianfeng stood under the light of the fire, looking at the undulating mountains in the distance, and whispered to himself:

"This American pie is so juicy, there's enough to share!"

(End of this chapter)