Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 63 Recruiting People Along the Railway Line

The chatter of the other ladies in the pottery shop and the noise of the carriages passing by outside the window all became indistinct background noise.

Only this man's handsome face was infinitely close and magnified in her vision, becoming incredibly clear!

"You...you also know about pottery?"

Ethan turned his head, his deep blue eyes gazing silently at her.

"Know a little bit."

He smiled modestly: "I spent some time in Mexico and learned a few skills from the old craftsmen there."

"They don't use wheels; they can mold the thinnest ceramic pots in the world using only their hands."

“Then…then could you…” Abigail bit her red lips, pointing to her work, “could you teach me?”

Ethan feigned a moment of surprise, which quickly turned into a knowing smile.

"It's my pleasure, Miss."

He sat down next to Abigail, at just the right distance.

"Your hands are too stiff."

The terrazzo restarted, and Ethan's uniquely magnetic voice rang in Abigail's ears, sending shivers down her spine: "You're fighting it, not guiding it."

Abigail swallowed nervously, trying to relax, but her little hands trembled even more violently.

Ethan smiled.

"do you mind?"

Before Abigail could answer, he reached out and gently covered Abigail's muddy little hands.

"Pfft!"

Abigail felt like her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

Even through the layer of clay, she could clearly feel the intense heat emanating from his palm.

"do not move."

Ethan's breath brushed against her ear, seemingly unintentionally: "Feel it, follow its rhythm."

As he worked on it, his hands began to exert more force.

Abigail's hands were completely under his control.

She was so happy she almost fainted, feeling as if she and this man had become one.

And the lump of clay on the wheel, guided by their four hands, gradually became compliant.

Soon, a bottle with smooth lines appeared in their hands.

Abigail's almond-shaped eyes widened, her mind going completely blank.

She no longer smelled the earthy odor, but rather a masculine scent mixed with leather and a faint hint of soap.

This man was the angel sent by God to save her.

……

Marlene Farm
Lawson had already received the video from Ethan.

The fish has taken the bait.

Next, let Ethan lure the fish until she's exhausted, until her mind is completely filled with nothing but love and pleasure.

When Abigail Redding refuses to marry anyone but Ethan, Silas Redding and his three sons will be nearing their end.

He could already picture that scene.

A powerful and domineering family was wiped out overnight by an elusive Irish gang.

The entire household, from top to bottom, was wiped out, not even the chickens or dogs were spared.

Only a frail and helpless little daughter remained, holding her father's body and weeping bitterly.

Just when she was at her most desperate, Ethan would step in to comfort her, protect her, and bombard her with sweet words.

Then, it was only natural to help this orphan girl who knew nothing about managing the Nao family business.

This makes sense.

As for Miss Abigail...

Lawson chuckled softly.

Girls don't need to understand fighting and management.

All she needs to do is tend to her flowers, do pottery, and focus on dating.

Lawson would be a great micro-management master, keeping everyone satisfied.

The bait had been laid, and Lawson temporarily shifted his attention away from the "love-struck" girl.

Right now, there's something even more pressing waiting for him: the 1,800-acre apple orchard is ready for harvest.

……

Lordson rode his horse, surrounded by Er Gou, San Gou, Ah Hu, Ah Bao, and others, and arrived at this boundless orchard.

In the golden autumn season, the sun shines brightly.

The fruits in the orchard are all plump and red, with an excellent appearance.

He casually picked an apple from a drooping branch, wiped it on his clothes, and took a big bite.

Mmm, crisp! Sweet!
"Ah!"

Lawson smiled with satisfaction: "This can be considered as getting something for nothing."

They got such a huge, ready-made farm for nothing.

It's worth mentioning that the seven or eight abused Native American children he had previously released had become homeless and returned to the farm. Lawson settled them in and entrusted them to the care of his henchmen.

Now, the fruit is ripe and ready to be picked.

Eighteen hundred acres of fruit trees require a large workforce.

Although he had many elite soldiers under his command, it was a waste to ask these soldiers, who were responsible for fighting and killing, to climb trees and pick apples.
That would be such a waste.

Even though he can now refresh 76 assassins every day, his manpower is still fully occupied.

They are the tentacles of Lawson reaching into every corner of the world.

These people can manage assets for Lawson, can go undercover, can risk their lives, but they should never be used for this kind of mechanical, repetitive labor.

Of course, they are more than qualified to be supervisors or managers.

So, where do the workers come from?

Lawson squinted, gazing at the winding railway line in the distance.

Southern Pacific Railway Company.

There were tens of thousands of Chinese laborers on that railway.

They were hungry and cold, and they worked the hardest but earned the least.

Aren't these people the best available labor force?
Thinking of this, Lawson felt a surge of emotion.

Having laid the groundwork for so long, it's time to provide a real haven for these compatriots who have crossed oceans and are struggling to survive in foreign lands.

It's not just this 1,800-acre apple orchard.

He also owns tens of thousands of acres of land that have been claimed under the Homestead Act and are awaiting development.

These all require a massive workforce.

An English-American suicide bomber, as a legitimate landowner, applied for 160 acres of land, which is nearly a thousand mu!
This piece of land is so large that it needs to be cultivated, leveled, and planted. It would be more than enough to employ twenty Chinese laborers.

Moreover, dozens of such plots of land are being added to Lawson's asset portfolio every day.

He will not only become California's water czar, but also California's largest landowner.

A large landowner naturally needs the most tenants.

Since the railway company discriminated against Chinese laborers, and since those Irish bastards and white laborers were hostile towards them because the Chinese laborers lowered wages...

Alright, come to my farm!

"Big Ox, Second Ox!"

Lawson turned his head away.

"Yes, boss."

The two men immediately urged their horses forward.

"Send a few people to poach workers for me from various construction sites along the railway line."

"Tell those Chinese laborers that my farm is hiring now!"

……

Strawberry Town, Southern Pacific Railroad construction site
Liang Kuan was still shouting and cursing.

"Stop slacking off, you bastards! Get your hands dirty! If this sleeper isn't laid before dark, nobody's getting dinner tonight!"

Amid the shouts and curses, a group of Chinese laborers were chanting as they laboriously carried sleepers onto the roadbed.

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves approached from afar.

A Chinese man riding a tall horse appeared at the edge of the construction site.

He was followed by several equally burly cowboys.

(End of this chapter)