The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

The train was gradually preparing to depart. In the much smaller and simpler carriage compared to the high-speed rail that would connect all parts of China in the future, Zhang Chang'an sat calmly, looking out the window at the station entrance and the tracks that stretched into the distance and disappeared into the city.

He was in the second carriage, which is basically behind the engine compartment.

This is the furthest point from the cargo compartments covered with wooden planks, and it's the starting point for the passenger compartments.

It was precisely because he bought a ticket from here that the people from Blood Sand Company didn't cause him any trouble at the ticket office earlier.

In their eyes, he was just an ordinary person who was a little bolder and really wanted to take a ride.

There were patrolling guards in the station. In those days, trains could not be owned privately. At most, people would hire a railway company to charter one or two cargo containers or passenger cabins, like they do now.

Since they were just a small-to-medium-sized gang with limited financial resources, their choice was to occupy the back of the car and prevent others from getting on as much as possible.

They didn't care about such a small variable as Zhang Chang'an.

In the front carriage where Zhang Chang'an was, there were a few other ordinary passengers like him scattered around.

However, their actions had a clear effect. Not only was the carriage not even half full, but there were also one or two people from Blood Sand Company mixed in with them to keep watch.

Of course, this wasn't a particularly big problem for Zhang Chang'an.

"Whoosh—" The train slowly sounded its whistle, the steam engine at the front of the train pulled out a long plume of black smoke, the transmission rod under the train slowly turned, and the night breeze outside slowly blew in.

Because it was close to the front of the train, the various chaotic noises from the train's infotainment system made the carriage somewhat noisy.

At this critical juncture, Zhang Chang'an stood up from his seat and walked to a spot a little ahead.

He placed his left hand on the back of the seat on the left.

Only one person was sitting in those two seats, a typical middle-aged white man with thinning hair and many wrinkles on his face.

He casually put his feet on the seat and drank his wine. He was one of the men under the blond foreigner from the Blood Sand Company.

"Excuse me, sir, I have a cold and can't be exposed to drafts. Could you please close the window?" Zhang Chang'an leaned forward slightly and then said.

The foreigner raised his head, shrugged with a disdainful expression, and said, "What did you say? Sorry, I'm a proper Englishman. Your English has a weird Chinese accent, I can't understand it."

Seeing his rather provocative gaze, Zhang Chang'an put on a rather weak and humble appearance, lowered his body even further, and placed his left hand directly on his shoulder.

The moment the foreigner's expression changed, Zhang Chang'an's right hand, which had been resting at his side, suddenly moved.

A muffled thud didn't travel far in the noisy carriage, but an elderly woman sitting in front of the foreigner suddenly screamed in fright.

A little behind in this carriage, there was another thug from Blood Sand Company.

But because the commotion was minimal, he didn't react much. Instead, a train police officer standing at the front of the carriage turned his head rather warily.

The police officer, dressed in a dark double-breasted long coat and a stiff top hat, walked to the seat and saw that Zhang Chang'an had already sat down in the outermost seat of the row.

The white guy next to him had already fallen asleep peacefully.

The lady in front of him screamed because the foreigner had fallen back onto the back of the chair in front of him.

Zhang Chang'an, the instigator of all this, simply sat calmly beside him, caught the wine bottle that fell from his hand, and reached out to close the window.

Before the police officer could speak, Zhang Chang'an pulled something out of his pocket.

Seeing the earlier confrontation, the police officer was almost ready to draw his gun, but then he saw that what Zhang Chang'an had taken out was clearly a letter.

The key point is that Zhang Chang'an pressed his finger directly on the signature at the end of the letter.

It reads: William Glaston, Liberal MP for the Oxford constituency.

"I know you are just employees of the railway company, not full-fledged police officers, so you don't need to work so hard. As long as you ensure the safe operation of the railway, you won't lose your jobs."

Before the officer could react, Zhang Chang'an spoke up: "But that's normal times. It's fine to let some petty thieves escape on the train, or even smuggle some goods. But what if they're transporting members of parliament's belongings?"

In his hand was the letter from the congressman commissioning an outsider to retrieve the horses, tucked inside the documents Vito had handed over. Although it didn't explicitly state who had been hired, the handwriting and seal were unmistakably authentic.

Zhang Chang'an had guessed that this thing might be useful, so he brought it out specifically.

Sure enough, the privately hired police officer in front of him was so frightened by the situation that he froze on the spot.

Zhang Chang'an calmly replied, "Don't worry, you don't need to do anything. I'll handle the work myself. You just need to make sure that each carriage door closes independently."

As Zhang Chang'an spoke, he put the letter away and stood up.

He only colluded with the police officers for later matters; in the current carriage, he doesn't need anyone's help.

Looking back at the rear of the carriage, most train carriages in this era were semi-enclosed, and moving around produced not only noise but also thick smoke.

But the people at Blood Sand Company are particular. Perhaps to prevent people from wandering around between carriages, they specifically chose this slightly more upscale train with individual carriage doors.

Therefore, in the back half of the carriage with the door closed, there was only one thug staring at Zhang Chang'an.

"Tap tap tap..." Zhang Chang'an walked towards him with not-too-fast steps.

The thug, who had already become alert, saw that the police officer behind him was unmoved while his companion made no move, and immediately reached into his clothes.

"Whoosh!"

"Snap!" He pulled out a spring-loaded folding knife, but just as his right hand reached out, it was instantly grabbed tightly in mid-air by Zhang Chang'an's left hand.

"Click-clack..."

"ah--"

The thug's screams echoed from inside the carriage, but they dissipated into the wind above the city along with the black smoke from the vehicle's engine and countless other noises.

And very quickly, Zhang Chang'an raised his other hand, instantly forming the shape of a phoenix-eye hammer, and aimed it straight at his face.

"Snapped!"

The carriage door slammed against the outer wall of the carriage. Zhang Chang'an, with his back against a train police officer, walked into the next carriage.

There are fewer ordinary passengers here; instead, you can easily spot five or six menacing faces as soon as you enter.

As soon as Zhang Chang'an entered, all those unfriendly eyes were immediately fixed on him.

"Thank you, officer. The person I'm looking for is right there." Zhang Chang'an turned to the officer naturally and said, pointing to an ordinary passenger at the back of the carriage before walking directly to the back of the carriage.

The passenger, who looked like an ordinary worker, was completely bewildered.

The thugs around them also became less vigilant.

Soon, Zhang Chang'an arrived at the very back of the carriage, and the thugs in front of him finally became suspicious.

"No! Pauline is lying on the ground!"

One of the thugs stood up and looked directly at the scene in the carriage in front of him through the blurry glass window on the carriage door.

At that moment, Zhang Chang'an grabbed the neck of a thug sitting in the other row at the back of the carriage.