The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 762 The man-eating demon Zhao Si is marching towards Ohio (the last day of April, asking for monthly tickets)
The night had completely enveloped the Memphis train station. Hundreds of kerosene lamps were hanging on the platform, illuminating the iron sheet of the steam locomotive in a dim yellow. Zenk O'Hara walked across the platform in his riding boots. All the black officers and soldiers who saw this legendary black general would stand at attention and salute him. Every time the brass whistle in his hand sounded, a team of black soldiers would step into the freight cars to the sound of the whistle.

"Keep your heels together!" The black general suddenly shouted in front of a group of newly enlisted "black baoyi" and whipped a bent black soldier on the back. "Remember, you are the black wall! A wall made of copper and iron!"

The newly enlisted "black guards" crowded at the west end of the platform. Black Mark, a young man from the countryside of Memphis, was trembling while holding an old-fashioned smoothbore rifle that had just been issued to him. Although he longed for freedom and had dreamed of becoming a master, he had never thought of fighting for such an illusory goal. The old black man wrapped in a tattered blanket next to him looked at the arrogant Zeng Ke and muttered to himself: "He, he looks a lot like the black master I met in Africa."

The sound of the copper bells of the prayer wheels came closer and closer in the steam. Two figures in crimson monk robes emerged from the smoke, one of them was a Mongolian, and the other was a young black man. The black man held up a cross with "Amitabha Changsheng Tianhuang Shangdi" engraved in English on it.

"You are the son of the Dawa family?" The old black man wrapped in a ragged blanket narrowed his eyes, "Weren't you sold to Missouri?"

"Now my name is Sangji Rinpoche." The cross in the young man's hand was shining with golden light. "In the Rocky Mountains, Amur Buddha told us the true covenant - black people are the people of Canaan, and white people treat you as animals. But Amitabha, the Emperor of Eternal Life, said that he sent Archbishop Zhao to save us. Archbishop Zhao is our commander, General Zhao."

Elderly Mongolian Tantric priest Bater opened a thangka painting of the American West covered with a tricolor flag: "Look at this red land. After the war, every black brother will be able to get a hundred acres. Black children will go to school and write their names in black and white on paper."

The steam locomotive suddenly neighed. Zeng Ke strode through the crowd, pointed his whip at the old black man wrapped in a ragged blanket, and said to a black major, "We don't want old people like this. Give him an old military uniform and a broken gun to wait for Grant." He turned his head and stared at Sangji, "Little pastor, read them a passage from the "Black Slave Reincarnation Sutra" before they get on the train. If you die for freedom in this life, you will be a superior person in the next life!"

In the train compartment, Bell was pouring coffee for Xianfeng. The bruise on her wrist rubbed against the handle of the silver pot, and the brown liquid swirled in the cup.

"Master, do you want candy?"

"No, I just like the bitter taste of coffee. That's the taste of life." Xianfeng drew a circle on the map with a pencil. "Tell your Northern general that I want to lead my black army to march to Ohio." He suddenly turned around and looked at Bell. "Do you think he will believe it?"

Hedehai opened the curtain and came in. His uniform already bore the rank of major. "The last twenty guns have been loaded. But the new recruits are asking if they can get shoes when they get to Nashville."

"Give them straw ropes and let them learn how to make straw sandals." Xianfeng said without even looking up. "Tell them that when they get to Ohio, there will be enough white people's leather boots to pave the road."

When the whistle blew, Bell's quill, which was writing to Grant, fell on the carpet. She bent down to pick it up and heard Xianfeng muttering to himself: "When all the blacks in Tennessee cross the river with me, there will be only empty houses on the east bank of the Mississippi for the Yankees to take over - get down!"

A hole suddenly blew up in the glass window. A bullet shattered the glass lampshade. Someone on the platform shouted "Yankee assassin!". Head shot out of the box and saw Xianfeng holding Bell down. Bell said in a hoarse voice, "Master, there will be many more such things in the future, because Lincoln has offered a reward of $10,000 for your life!"

As if to prove that Bell was right, the sound of gunfire outside could be heard.

In a freight car, Sangji was bandaging the wounded. A stray bullet penetrated the wooden car and entered, biting a bloody hole in the shoulder of the black soldier opposite.

"Eternal Heaven will remember your courage." The black pastor stuffed the cross into his mouth, "Hold on tight, brother."

Zeng Ke's voice came from the front: "No fighting back! Keep silent!" The whole train rushed into the night like a wounded python. Twenty new recruits in black coats wet their pants, but no one dared to cry out loud.

In the area of ​​Memphis train station, the black jackets left behind by Zengke were exchanging fire with the Union guerrillas who had sneaked in.

In the box, Xianfeng crushed the broken glass with his boot heel: "Dabai, send a telegram to Grant when you get to Nashville." He took out his pocket watch and checked the time. "We'll be there around noon today. Tell that Yankee that I, Zhao Si, have already recruited 100,000 niggers in Tennessee, and will recruit another 50,000 in Kentucky, and then will march into Ohio. My ultimate goal may very well be New York!"

Lincoln's fingers scratched the front page of the New York Tribune, making a rustling sound. The ink printed the words "The man-eating demon Zhao Si is marching towards Ohio" more glaring than the list of casualties in the Civil War - now Kentucky has been trampled under the feet of Zhao Si's black army and Indian army. Grant only dared to take Memphis, which was abandoned by Zhao Si, but did not dare to touch Zhao Si's tiger's butt. In the bond market column below, the price of a gold bond just issued at the beginning of the year fell like a weight at 55 pounds - the face value was 100 pounds! Based on the issuance volume of 450 million pounds, bankers in London, Paris and New York lost million pounds in one quarter!
Now the "gold bonds" in the United States have become a plague, and bankers in London, Paris and New York are trying to avoid them. The exchange rate of the greenback dollar against the pound has plummeted by one-third in one quarter!

In recent days, the bigwigs of Wall Street have been constantly issuing warnings to the Lincoln government - if the federal government cannot complete the issuance of at least 6 million pounds of "gold bonds" by the end of June, the greenback dollar is likely to collapse!

By then, it won’t matter how many dollars the Treasury prints.
And now it seems that there is only one bank consortium left that may subscribe to the "gold bonds", and that is the group of nouveau riche in California!

"Mr. President," Secretary of State Seward knocked on the half-open oak door. "Lord Baring said Queen Victoria is willing to act as mediator."

The pine wood in the fireplace crackled. Lincoln covered a map of the Pacific Railway with a newspaper - this was one of the conditions for the negotiation between Secretary of the Treasury Chase and Huang Shiren, the general agent of the California Banking Syndicate.

"Conditions for mediation?" Lincoln lowered his voice.

"Continue to maintain 'states' rights supremacy,'" Seward said, "while practicing 'gradual abolition.'"

"Be more specific!" Lincoln said through gritted teeth.

"The North and the South shall cease fire at the current control line, and each state shall retain its tariff autonomy and other original autonomy. The slavery issue," Seward paused, "will be gradually resolved by using serfdom as a transition."

Lincoln slapped the table with a "bang". His eyes were bloodshot and he looked at Seward fiercely: "Can we agree to such conditions? Why are we fighting this war? This is not a condition of mediation, but a condition of surrender. If I agree to the conditions proposed by the British, America will never, ever, ever become a great country!"

"But, but what should we do?" Seward said bitterly, "If the new gold bonds cannot be issued..."

"There are still people willing to buy our bonds!" Lincoln opened the drawer and took out a negotiation memorandum. "William, look at this."

"Memorandum of Negotiation for the Pacific Railroad Concession and Twenty-Five Millions of British Pounds of Loans." Seward picked up the memorandum and began to read.

"This won't do. If this continues, the three states on the west coast will become independent!" Seward read half of the memorandum and threw it on the table. The parchment roll was three feet long, and the red circle marking the Rocky Mountain Pass looked like a bleeding bullet hole.

The president exhaled, took out a gold-plated cigar cutter from the drawer, and slowly trimmed the Havana cigar: "Secretary Chase has reached an agreement with the California Banking Consortium, and the Pacific Railway Company will subscribe to 2500 million pounds of bonds." The moment the match struck the phosphorus paper, it illuminated the bitter smile hidden in the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth, "In exchange for the exclusive monopoly of the right to build railways within the Rocky Mountains."

Seward grabbed a corner of the map and said, "Look at these terms! The Pacific Railroad Company has a fifty-year monopoly on the right to build the railway, and it owns twenty miles of land on both sides of the railway. They also require garrison troops to protect the six major passes. President, don't you really understand? Those yellow monkeys don't want to build a railway connecting the West Coast and the East. They... The real purpose of asking for a monopoly on the right to build the railway is to prevent others from building the railway! We..."

"We have to win!" Lincoln interrupted him while blowing smoke rings. "Only if we win can America become a great country, and a great America can definitely solve the problem of division in the West. If we lose the war, then everything will be over. Even Virginia may secede from the Union. Who will be able to control the West Coast?"

Lincoln pointed at the memorandum with his extra-long finger and said, "William, I understand what you said. The Chinese don't want to build railroads at all. Their purpose of controlling the six major passes is to maintain the independence of the West Coast. However, for the people of New York, there is nothing unacceptable in this memorandum. It is nothing more than a very fair deal for a West Coast consortium to buy a large amount of federal bonds in exchange for the monopoly of road construction rights, isn't it? And this also shows the West Coast's firm support for the New York federal government, with real money! So, I intend to approve this fair and reasonable transaction!"

The newsboys were calling outside the window, and Wall Street was filled with dejected brokers in the evening. The headline of the Wall Street Post was not dry yet: "Gold bonds fall below 60% of their face value - Devil Zhao Si claims to drive white people off the Atlantic."

(End of this chapter)