Rebirth: Outstanding

At nine o'clock the next morning, when he heard the roar of motorcycle engines and horns outside the hotel, Song Tianyao walked out as usual, and had changed into a T-shirt, casual pants and sneakers. Tang Boqi turned his sunglasses up. Pushing it, looking at Song Tianyao who came by:

"You didn't talk to the hotelier last night, for example, about me? This dress is good, bought from the store next door?"

"Of course I talked about it. He said that you are the only college student in your family and want to go to New York to develop, but your father is going to let you do a laundry business. Thank you for your praise. The whole set is down 15 dollars." Song Tianyao took the back seat of the Harley motorcycle: "Let's go."

This time, Tang Boqi was stunned. He turned his head and said to Song Tianyao: "I deliberately brought you to the Chinatown Hotel, just hope you can guess that maybe someone wants to do your business first. I thought you might do it in the morning. Go alone to Haight Street first? Why are you staying? Aren't you afraid of your ideas leaking out?"

"I guess your father should also know some of the things I did in Hong Kong. Everyone knows each other a little bit now. Are you worried that I will be snatched away from the fake idea?" Song Tianyao yawned, "The jet lag is not bad. , Let's go, if you also want to make a fake accident, of course I welcome it."

"I don't want to do it at all. I want to be a stockbroker on Wall Street. You don't know what a great opportunity it is now." Tang Boqi sat down and started his motorcycle toward Haite Street where the idle white youths gathered. .

In Chinatown, white people were rare, but when they entered this Haite Street, Song Tianyao and Tang Boqi became rare animals. Indeed, just like Tang Boqi said, this street wandered in groups of different shapes. Some of them gathered on the walls of the alleys to smear graffiti with paint, some gathered to share marijuana, and some even carried a tape recorder and played the best dance music, inviting others to dance on the street.

More people shuttled through the various shops on this street, clothing stores, shoe stores, socks stores, cosmetics stores, decoration stores, etc., and exchanged ideas with their companions with the decorations they just purchased.

Wigs of various colors, eye shadows, tattoos, lip colors, and weird services, and exaggerated earrings made Song Tianyao smack his lips and whispered: "Welcome to the American Chapter of the Burial Family."

"Actually, there are also wigs for sale in the malls near Chinatown, but if you want to see a more complete variety, this street is the best choice." Tang Boqi drove Song Tianyao through the entire street and drove back to a decoration in the street. The shop said: "There are high-end French goods in the big shopping malls, and cheap American goods here. You can't expect these guys to have money to buy hundreds of dollars in French wigs."

"You didn't know much about wigs last night." Song Tianyao got off the motorcycle and asked Tang Boqi with a smile.

Tang Boqi exhaled depressed: "Yes, before I went to pick you up this morning, I went around the mall and this store. My father said, if the wig makes money, let me do the same business with you. ."

"In fact, it is right for you to choose Wall Street. You strive to make yourself equal in the United States." Song Tianyao said to Tang Boqi: "It is impossible in all places. Only in the financial market, everyone is equal. There is a stock in it. It will not fall because you are a yellow race, and it will not rise because you are white. On the contrary, if you can manipulate financial power, you will become a real American. You buy one. Cars, maybe car dealers will give priority to white people, and some people discriminate against you, the financial market will not, it is not aimed at race, only surrendered to power."

Tang Boqi, with a small smile on his face, really froze, and looked up and down Song Tianyao: "How do you know? My thoughts? I mean what you said, not like what a hotel owner can tell you."

"I have the same thoughts as you. The difference is that I am not interested in the United States for the time being, and you are not interested in Hong Kong for the time being. Some time ago when I was reading a financial journal in the United States, I saw some data that made me very moved. I made a note. The gross national product of the United States has risen from 137 billion US dollars in 1942 to 241 billion US dollars in 1950. From 1945 to 1950, the United States had nearly 80 million more people. In 1950, In China, the entire United States has sold 33 billion U.S. dollars just for baby products. What does this mean? It shows that the U.S. economy is developing rapidly. Now the only bad economy in the U.S. is the Wall Street stock market. Under normal circumstances, the U.S. economy is already strong enough. At such a terrible point, stocks should have soared to a very high position. Why in five years, the Wall Street stock market in the United States has still not improved as it was during the Great Depression? Because of the experience of the wealthy people on Wall Street that their stocks plummeted by 90% I was shocked. The process of someone jumping off a building, someone taking poison, someone going crazy, and turning from a millionaire to a pauper with tens of millions of debts overnight, made everyone frightened. If I were in the United States, I would go to Wall Street as a stockbroker, and It must be the one that can be at the top. Do you know why? The dawn of the Wall Street stock market is coming. As long as you sell a commercial stock, that stock will bring wealth to your customers almost immediately. In this way, wait for the stock market. When you truly become a bull market, you are already a top financial consultant trusted by all customers and admired by all colleagues." Song Tianyao did not rush to the store to see wigs, but said to Tang Boqi: "Rather than waiting for others to become stockbrokers, you Adding washing powder to the washing machine."

These words simply touched Tang Boqi’s heart. He is doing nothing all day, just because he doesn’t want to compromise with his father and becomes the owner of the fourth laundry room that his family is preparing to open. He, a master of economics at Boston University, has no knowledge of big characters. Does his father do the same job? So why did his father let him go to college?

And he doesn’t like the malicious discrimination against him by those women. He just wants those discriminations to remind himself all the time, what kind of country he lives in, and if this country can find a place that makes him feel that he does not look at his skin color but only looks at his ability, Only Wall Street in New York.

There, the yellow race can set up a securities company, and the black can also do the stock economy. They don’t care about your skin color. As long as you have the ability and you bring benefits to the company, you are an excellent American, and the boss will choose a white, tender and tender one. American girls are packaged and sent to your bed as a reward. If someone dares to make fun of you with your skin color, your customers and boss will yell at you, because you are outstanding, that is the real America.

Rather than hiding in this small Chinatown in San Francisco, where I call myself an American, but how is it different from living in China? Absolutely not.

The smile on Tang Boqi’s face disappeared, replaced by a serious expression, as if the previous cynicism was just his mask all the time: "You can analyze the current situation on Wall Street in the United States in Hong Kong, and my uncle and my father actually did it. Thinking of robbing your business, what are you kidding? Your remarks were not intended to deliberately lead me away from your false intentions, because I know those numbers better than you, you have really analyzed them, so you let me Surprised, Song Tianyao."

"I don’t care if there are other people making fakes. Just like many motorcycle brands in the United States are making motorcycles, why are only Harley motorcycles becoming a classic now? There is no mystery in doing business. What needs attention is how to do business. Let’s go Go and see the wig." Song Tianyao smiled at Tang Boqi, turned and walked towards the store.

Tang Boqi let out a sigh of relief behind him, and followed Song Tianyao towards the inside: "Awesome."

At this time, there were five or six white youths in the store choosing various decorations. Song Tianyao was not in a hurry to ask the clerk, but leaned against a man wearing a vest with various tattoos on his arms, long hair in shawls, and choosing earrings. A young white man, greeted in English: "Friend, your tattoo is very beautiful."

"Thank you, oh, hello, friend of the yellow race." The white man looked up and saw that the one who greeted him was a yellow race. He was taken aback for a moment, but there was no discrimination.

Song Tianyao watched the other party choose earrings, and slowly asked, "My boss asked me to find a way to collect hair of various colors. Can I ask, do you have any wigs?"

"You mean this?" The young man shook his long linen hair: "Four tops, yellow, dark red, silver and now this linen."

"What color do you like best?" Song Tianyao looked at each other.

The young man fingered Song Tianyao's hair: "Black, yellow friends, this is the United States, the black hair is very cool, haven't you found that there are no black wigs on the shelves? Because there are few."

"The wigs here are much worse than the American ones I saw at Lane Crawford in Hong Kong." When Tang Boqi walked in, Song Tianyao said to him, "If it's not a counterfeit product, there is only one possibility."

"The supply of goods is in short supply, so that the wig factory pursues quantity and gives up the original quality." Tang Boqi said in the interface.

Song Tianyao smiled at Tang Boqi: "The last time I saw a guy as smart as you was a few months ago."

"What then? You and that smart guy became friends?" Tang Boqi motioned to the clerk to hand over a wig and asked casually.

Song Tianyao shook his head: "He was killed by his brother."

"This kind of wig is made by a local factory in San Francisco." Tang Boqi didn't hear clearly, but instead looked at the hidden label in the wig and said. After speaking, he looked at Song Tianyao: "What did you just say?"

"It's nothing, I said we are going to see the factory." Song Tianyao waved to the clerk: "How much is it, I want to buy this one, and then please tell me, where did this wig come from?"

When he walked out of the store again, Tang Boqi said to Song Tianyao, who was holding a wig in his hand, "Do you think I should go to Wall Street? Or continue to make wigs for these white crazy men like you?"

"I hope you're deceiving, really." Song Tianyao said to Tang Boqi in a sincere tone.

Tang Boqi started his motorcycle: "I don't know whether your words are true or not. Your mask is even more powerful than I look like, and I never thought about cooperating with people to make fake intentions."

"Cooperation? Of course not. I want to work with Americans who can sell the wigs I produced in Hong Kong in the United States. You, the son of the Chinese laundry shop owner, obviously don't have such a big channel." Song Tianyao put the brown wig on I buckled it on my head and tried it: "You don't have to wear a brown wig to be considered an American."