The first time Wilson met a friendly face in a foreign country was unexpectedly at the port dock.
This seems to be a young man who is not that big, a few years younger than when he died in his previous life, but his face is sallow, his cheeks are thin, and there does not seem to be much flesh on his body. He is wearing clothes that have been washed to white, and his trousers are rolled up.
Due to lack of nutrition, he could not grow tall at all and was only a little over 1.6 meters tall.
The thin face was full of fatigue, but he still looked at Wilson with pleading and expectant eyes.
"Sir, sir?"
The Asian carefully spoke English with a special colloquialism, used tentative words, and nervously stared at the two tall white men in front of him.
Both of them are tall, wearing decent clothes, and one even wears glasses. They are gentle and seem to be gentle-tempered and easy-to-talk people, so he mustered up the courage to step forward.
On this dock, the status of Chinese people is worse than that of a dog raised by white people, and they are ostracized everywhere. The guys who manage the dock beat and scold them when they see them, and the workers who are also unemployed also look at them with hatred.
They feel that these yellow people have taken away their jobs.
"No, thank you, we are not boarding the ship yet."
The geologist didn't notice anything strange about Wilson next to him. He just waved his hand to signal the Asian man to go away.
The Asians looked a little disappointed, but they didn't dwell too much on anything.
"etc."
Wilson suddenly called him, with a complicated look on his face:
"Are you...um...from the Republic of China?"
Wilson hesitated, but finally chose to ask in English.
With the blessing of his original human body memory and the spoken language he has practiced when communicating with others for more than a week, he has mastered daily language proficiently, at least when communicating with others, there are no abnormalities at all.
But instinctively, he still felt a little uncomfortable. He complained and thought in his mother tongue. In this environment, the only person who could communicate with him in Chinese was Zhuomu.
But Drom is just a system, not his compatriots.
When he finally saw a familiar Asian face, Wilson almost blurted out Mandarin.
Fortunately, he endured it.
Even if Wilson is a professor of Chinese history, it is too strange to suddenly communicate with the people of the Republic of China in very fluent Chinese.
Moreover, in Wilson's memory, he had been exposed to ancient Chinese history and studied relevant ancient books, but his study was not very profound. But in terms of Chinese, his human body was almost at a loss. After all,
Wilson had never personally visited the country on the other side of the ocean, nor had he had any contact with a few people from the Republic of China.
The Asian who was stopped was a little frightened, so he nodded quickly and put on a flattering smile:
"That's right, sir."
"How many years have you been here?" Wilson pretended to be an idle and curious guy and started chatting with the Asian.
"I came here in the second year of the Republic of China. I was only ten years old at that time." Asians are a little confused. They don't know what this idle person wants to do. Generally, no one cares about when they arrived.
here.
After all, those people will think that they are the worms of society, seriously hindering the peaceful and stable development of society. They should get away as far as possible, and they will be beaten and scolded at every turn.
The second year of the Republic of China?
Wilson quickly calculated that it was 1913.
The Asian in front of me has been here for ten years. Although he is in the prime of life, his shoulders are hunched unconsciously, making him look even shorter.
That weather-beaten face, thick joints, and calloused hands...
Even if he was in his thirties, he would believe it.
"It's really hard for you to come from such a far away place..." Wilson felt his voice was a little hoarse.
"I came here from California. It was said that there are better jobs here. But as a result, they filled the sea with sand every day and beat us with whips every day. Many people couldn't persist. When the building was finally completed, they
Don’t want us anymore.”
Asians seem to have been suppressed for too long. Maybe they saw that the gentleman with gold-rimmed glasses was kinder, but for some reason they suddenly said a lot.
Wilson stared at his thin body bones and protruding joints, like a dark and skinny monkey, and even looked bruised in many places.
He suddenly felt a suffocating pain.
He remembers this history.
Even at this point in time, 1923, an era that seems to be the development of civilization, in this prosperous big city, the shadow is still everywhere.
He remembers clearly that in this era, the Chinese Exclusion Act still existed, and many Chinese were brutally beaten just because of their race. They felt that Chinese labor would not only reduce the material life of Americans, but also erode the spirit of Americans.
and morality.
A large number of Chinese were brought all the way to California to build railroads, but many never returned. They were buried under the cold railroad ties and were run over by countless trains every day.
Every inch of railway contains the blood and souls of countless Chinese workers. However, they were unable to receive the treatment they deserve. They were considered to have robbed Americans of their wealth and suffered extremely serious racial discrimination.
The Chinese Exclusion Act would not be repealed until twenty years later.
Looking at that thin body, Wilson's throat suddenly choked up and he didn't know what to say.
In the end, he just took out all the coins in his pocket and gave them to the weather-beaten Chinese worker.
Although Hua Gong was confused, who would refuse money falling from the sky?
Looking at the young Chinese worker who was nodding and bowing, Wilson didn't say anything more, took the geologist and left.
"Howard, what are you?" The geologist didn't know what Wilson meant. Why was he suddenly interested in the Asian?
"Nothing, just some material worth studying." Wilson shook his head with difficulty, his tone bitter.
He doesn't know what he can do.
If the tragedy they suffered was an ordinary monster attack, then Wilson could of course transform and defeat the monsters, and then save mankind.
But this is not true. This is the suffering of the nation and the blood and tears of history.