Chapter 762: The man-eating demon Zhao Si is advancing to Ohio (the last day of April, please give me a monthly ticket)

The night had completely covered the Memphis Railway Station. Hundreds of kerosene lamps were hanging on the platform, illuminating the iron sheet of the steam locomotive. Zengke O'Hara walked across the platform with her horse boots. All the black officers and soldiers who saw this legendary black general stood at the sight of him saluting him. Every time the copper whistle in his hand sounded, a group of black soldiers climbed into the truck with the whistle.

"Hears are together!" The black general suddenly yelled in front of a newly enlisted "black coat" and whipped the back of a bent black soldier, "Remember you are a black wall! It is a wall cast with copper and iron!"

The newly enlisted "black coats" were crowded at the west end of the platform. The young man from the countryside of Memphis was trembling with an old-fashioned smoothbore gun he had just sent to him. Although he longed for freedom and dreamed of becoming a master, he never thought of fighting for that illusory goal. The old black man wrapped in a broken blanket next to him looked at the arrogant Zeng Ke and muttered to himself: "He, he is very similar to the black master I met in Africa."

The copper ringtone of the prayer drum was from far to near in the steam. Two figures in crimson robes floated out of the smoke, one of which was a Mongolian and the other a young black man. The black man raised his cross, which was engraved in English with "God of the Emperor Amitabha" on it.

"Your Dawa's son?" the old black man wrapped in a broken blanket narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you sold to Missouri?"

"Now my name is Sanji Rinpoche." The cross on the young man's hand shook with golden light. "On Rocky Mountain, Lord Amurfu tells us the true promise--the blacks are the people of Canaan, and the whites regard you as animals, but God of the Amitabha Emperor Amitabha said that he sent Archbishop Zhao to the earth to save us, and Archbishop Zhao is our commander General Zhao."

The older Mongolian Tantric priest Batel shook open the Thangka and painted the western United States covered with tricolor flags: "Look at this red land, after the war is over, every black brother can be divided into 100 acres. The black doll goes to school and writes his name in black and white."

The steam locomotive suddenly neighed. Zeng Ke then strided through the crowd, pointed at the old black man wrapped in a broken blanket, and said to a black major: "If you are old like this, don't want it. Grant his old military uniform and a broken gun." He turned to stare at Sanji again, "Little pastor, read the "Black Slave Reincarnation Sutra" for them before getting on the car. Die for freedom in this life, and you will be the best person in the next life!"

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

"Master, do you want sugar?"

"No, I like the bitterness of coffee, that's the taste of life." Xianfeng drew a circle on the map with a pencil, "Tell you that Yankee general, and I want to march towards Ohio with my black army." He suddenly looked back at Bell, "Guess he would believe it?"

Heidehai lifted the curtain and came in. His military uniform had already had the rank of major: "The last twenty cannons were loaded. However, the recruits were asking if they could get shoes when they arrived in Nashville."

"Take them straw ropes and let them learn to make straw sandals." Xianfeng didn't raise his head, "tell them that when he arrived in Ohio, there were so many white leather boots that could pave the way."

When the whistle was ringing, Bell's quill, who was writing a letter to Grant, fell on the carpet. She bent down to pick it up and heard Xianfeng say to herself: "When all the black men in Tennessee cross the river with me, there will be only empty houses left on the east bank of Mississippi for the Northerners--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A hole suddenly exploded in the glass window. The bullet broke the glass lampshade, and someone on the platform shouted, "Assassin of the Northern Heroes!". The header rushed out of the box at an altitude gun and saw that Xianfeng had already pressed Bell under him. Bell said hoarsely: "Master, there will be many such things in the future, because Lincoln offers a reward of 10,000 US dollars to buy your life!"

As if to prove that Bell was right, the gunshots of fire fighting outside had already sounded.

In a truck compartment, Sanji was wrapping bandages to the wounded. The stray bullet penetrated the wooden casing and drilled in. The black soldier on the opposite side bit a bloody hole on the shoulder.

"Eternal Heaven will remember your courage." The black priest stuffed the cross into his mouth, "Bit tight, brother."

Zeng Ke's voice came from the front one after another: "Don't fight back! Stay silent!" The whole train rushed like a wounded giant python in the night. Twenty newcomers in black coated peed their pants, but no one dared to cry.

In the area of ​​Memphis Railway Station, the black coat left by Zeng Ke was fighting fire with the Northern Army guerrillas who were sneaking in.

In the box, Xianfeng crushed the broken glass with his boot heels: "Dabai, send a telegram to Grant when he arrives in Nashville." He took out his pocket watch and looked at the time. "It will almost be here at noon today. Tell the northerner - I, Zhao Si, have already brought 100,000 niggers in Tennessee, and have to recruit another 50,000 black coats in Kentucky, and then I will enter Ohio. My ultimate goal is probably New York!"

Lincoln's fingers rustled on the front page of the New York Tribune. The ink printed the words "The man-eating demon Zhao Si is marching towards Ohio" more dazzling than the list of deaths in the Civil War - now Kentucky has been trampled by Zhao Si's black army and the Indian army. Grant only dared to get 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 issued at the beginning of the year fell to 55 pounds like a weight - the face value was 100 pounds! Based on the issuance volume of 10 million pounds, bankers in London, Paris and New York lost 4.5 million pounds in one quarter!

Now the "gold bonds" in the United States have become a plague-like existence. Bankers in London, Paris, and New York cannot hide. The exchange rate of green back dollar to pound plunged by one third in one quarter!

In recent days, Wall Street's bigwigs have been warning to the Lincoln administration that if the federal government cannot complete the issuance of at least 25 million pounds of "gold bonds" by the end of June, the green backed dollar is likely to collapse!

By then, it will be meaningless for the Ministry of Finance to print US dollars.

And now there seems to be only one left in the syndicate that may subscribe to "gold bonds", which is the group of nouveau riche in California!

"Mr. President." Secretary of State Seward knocked on the half-open oak door, "Sir Bahrain said Queen Victoria would be a mediator."

The pine wood in the fireplace burst. Lincoln covered the newspaper with a map of the Pacific Railroad—one of the conditions for negotiations between Treasury Secretary Chase and California Syndicate General Agent Huang Shiren.

"Mediation conditions?" Lincoln let out a deep voice.

“Continue to maintain ‘state authority’,” Seward said, “and implement ‘progressive abolitionist’.”

"To be more specific!" Lincoln said gritting his teeth.

"The north and the south cease fire on the current control line, and the states retain tariff autonomy and other original autonomy. The issue of slavery" Seward paused, "using serfdom as a transition, it will be gradually resolved."

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

"Yes, but what should we do?" Seward had a bitter face, "If the new gold bond cannot be issued"

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

"The negotiating memorandum on the Pacific Railway concession rights and £25 million government bonds." Seward picked up the memorandum and read it.

"If this doesn't work, the three states on the West Coast will become independent!" Seward halfway read it, and then threw the memo on the table. The parchment roll was three feet long, and the red circle marked at the Rocky Mountain Pass looked like a bloody bullet hole.

The president breathed, took out the gold-plated cigar cuts from the drawer, and slowly trimmed the Havana cigar: "Secretary Chase has negotiated with the California syndicate, and the Pacific Railway Company subscribed for a £25 million bond." The moment the matches slashed the phosphorus paper, illuminating the bitter smile hidden in the nasolabial folds of his mouth, "in exchange for the exclusive monopoly railway right to build the railway within the Rocky Mountains."

Seward grabbed a corner of the map: "Look at these terms! The Pacific Railway Company monopolized the right to build roads for fifty years, and twenty miles of land on both sides of the railway belonged to it, and they also asked the garrison to protect the six passes. President, don't you really understand? Those yellow-skinned monkeys didn't want to build a railway connecting the West Coast and the East. They. The real purpose of asking for monopoly on roads is to prevent others from building railways! We."

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

Lincoln pointed at the memorandum with his very slender finger and said, "William, I understand what you said, the Chinese don't want to build railways at all. Their purpose of controlling the six passes is to maintain the independence of the West Coast. However, for the people in New York, there is nothing unacceptable in this memorandum. It is nothing more than a West Coast consortium that purchases a large number of federal bonds in exchange for a very fair transaction of monopolizing the right to build roads, right? And this also shows the West Coast's firm support for the New York federal government, and supports it with real money! So, I plan to approve this fair and reasonable transaction!"

The hawking of newspaper boys came from outside the window, and Wall Street was full of dejected agents in the evening. The title of the Wall Street Post was still dry: "Golden bonds fell below 60% of the face value - the demon Zhao Si declared to drive the white people to the Atlantic Ocean."

(End of this chapter)
Chapter completed!