Golden Hill Years: A Dream Back to 1930

Huai Zhen was killed by a Syrian refugee. On her way home from grocery shopping, he approached her saying he was very hungry and wanted the half-eaten curry sausage fries in her bag. She stopped her bicycle and handed him the bag. At that very moment, he mercilessly smashed her skull with a Heineken bottle hidden in his other hand. She immediately fainted. But she wasn't sure if she had been violated. Because when she woke up again, time had reversed by nearly a century, and she found herself lying in a third-class cabin of a luxury cruise ship crossing the Pacific Ocean, becoming a new bride from Guangdong named Meng Qing. From the moment she arrived, she desperately wanted to survive and see what kind of misfortune the girl named Huai Zhen in Hamburg, Germany, in the 2010s, encountered in the following defenseless moments. And what inevitable connection all this had with the Chinese community, which Americans called the "Yellow Peril," in this era over a hundred years ago. Therefore, every choice she made from the moment she became Meng Qing, she rewrote the fate of this new bride from Guangdong again and again. The huge ferry was slowly crossing the Pacific Ocean. The weather was not very good that day. The chaotic waves slapped against the ship from time to time, and the Santa Maria ocean liner was sailing on the boundless waves. The heavy metal cut through the waves all the way, making a dull and mournful thud. The journey was on its twenty-seventh day, and it would arrive at the port tomorrow. The cruise ship set off from the port of Shantou in far-east China, passed through the Central Ferry Terminal in Hong Kong, transferred from Honolulu, and finally landed in San Francisco. The end of the journey was the Angel Island Immigration Station, located more than ten kilometers from the city of San Francisco, on the San Francisco Bay. This immigration station was specifically set up for Chinese people. Over the past eighty years, the increasingly strict Chinese Exclusion Acts, along with the extremely strict screening system of the Angel Island Immigration Station, have together excluded nearly ninety-five percent of Chinese people from the new continent. This continent is really not very friendly to the ancient yellow-skinned race. In this country full of opportunities, the Long Island gentry looked down on New York City merchants and parvenus, Easterners looked down on Westerners, and whites looked down on people of color. Even Chinese people, who were looked down upon by people of color, can be said to be at the bottom of the ecological circle and the food chain. Just like the passengers on the Santa Maria. The night before arriving at the Golden Mountain City, a storm broke out at sea. The ship was brightly lit, and the servants hurriedly shuttled between the bar, wine cellar, kitchen, and underground warehouse, just because the last carnival was about to begin. First-class white guests smoked Havana cigars and read newspapers by the fireplace in the warm salon; second-class young people from middle-class families who went abroad to visit relatives sipped Chinese red tea on the deck, chatting and watching the sunset over the sea; third-class lower-ranking sailors and male students who went abroad to study on a scholarship took the opportunity to chat with young ladies, seizing the last chance to find romance... Only a few sailors and the first mate knew that one or two cargo holds, originally used to store vegetables, had long been sold at a low price to the notorious human traffickers in Chinatown and South China docks, to store their goods - a cabin of abducted girls. People are divided into three, six, and nine, and the class system has long been divided invisibly. Of course, there are one or two fish that slipped through the net. Among the abducted girls was a new bride from Guangdong. She was supposed to go to Vancouver to find her newly married husband, but she was deceived by a kidnapper onto this ship bound for the Golden Mountain. In desperation, she swallowed a medicine for carbuncles and committed suicide. A friendly white family doctor from the East Coast happened to pass by and saved her life out of kindness. The human trafficker falsely claimed that she was the youngest daughter of an American Chinese left in the countryside of Guangdong. To cover up, the human trafficker even bought a third-class ticket at a low price from a sailor for this girl, providing her with a bed for treatment. No one knew that this young woman from Guangdong, who had gone through the gate of hell, had already changed her soul. The door of the third-class cabin opened. The white doctor, carrying a medicine box, spoke English with a strong German accent: "She's not in serious condition anymore. It's just that she somehow got fleas. There's no bathroom in the third-class cabin, and Mr. Andre must be very willing to lend the bathroom to this lovely Chinese girl. Wait a moment, and I will ask someone to take her to the first-class cabin to take a bath." The Asian woman smiled and flattered the white doctor away. The door closed, and the two women looked back together at the damp and low bed. The girl looked no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. Typical Oriental face: a slightly protruding face the size of a palm, impeccable facial features, but a bit too light; a pale and delicate face with no blood on her lips; black and dense long hair, but it looked a bit greasy and knotted because it hadn't been washed for too long. Due to limited hygiene conditions, unfortunately, there were three or four pink rashes on the girl's forehead, whether it was fleas or some other infectious disease. She was wearing a grape purple satin jacket, so she couldn't see the dirt. It was densely embroidered with an eagle, and such a valuable and outdated outfit is really rare these days, and it is thought to come from a wealthy and noble family. Luo Wen asked, "What girl is so precious that she is willing to let the famous iron rooster in Chinatown buy a third-class ticket for her?" Jiang Su said, "She is a local from Qingyuan, married to the Wen family, a tea merchant in Yingde, as the second daughter-in-law. The second young master went to Vancouver to study and do business years ago, and now he is a rich businessman. Among the gold miners who went to America over a hundred years ago, he is one of the best." Luo Wen is a native Chinese woman whose husband runs a laundry shop in Chinatown, and her life is quite comfortable. The family lives upstairs in the laundry shop, directly opposite the Chinatown brothel. The owner of the brothel is the old madam Jiang Su. The two are neighbors, but they have not interacted for twenty years. If it weren't for Luo Wen's family wanting to move to an elevator apartment in Jackson Square outside Chinatown, but still short of money; and Luo Wen still has a child's immigration permit - Jiang Su immediately came to the door. This time, Luo Wen agreed to go abroad with her. Luo Wen is still a bit curious about this girl who has no relatives or friends and is about to enter the country as her daughter: "Her husband is a young man from Vancouver. Now that she is in your hands, you should at least extort him for a sum, right?" "That's not possible. The Wen family, as an old gentry, still lives in the rules of the previous dynasty and values their reputation so much. This girl has gone through my hands, and her reputation has already gone seven or eight points. Even if it's their own daughter, taking her back, most of them will be drowned to death by the older generation in the family temple, in front of the ancestors' tablets. Let alone this daughter-in-law from outside, who dares to keep her at home to be laughed at by others? Don't even mention Ding You... This time, taking her to Vancouver, I guess it's for her to consummate the marriage with that Wen young master. Being intercepted halfway to the Golden Mountain, do you think her husband will still want her?" Luo Wen was shocked: "Still a virgin?" The old madam laughed: "Yes. When she fainted, I have checked her body, no doubt." "Is this girl the one that Hong Ye, the head of the Renhe Hall, entrusted you to choose for his unworthy sixth son as a wife?" "If not for this, why would I buy this third-class cabin left empty by the*********, and risk my life to find a doctor for her? If it were another girl, throw the body into the sea at night--" Just as they were talking, there was a knock on the door. The person outside said in English in a low voice: "Mr. Andre is willing to lend the bathroom to the lady. The surrounding men have been sent to the next room, and you have three hours to freely use everything in the bathroom. As you requested - the clothes for changing have also been prepared." After hearing this, Luo Wen suddenly asked in a low voice: "Does this Mr. Andre have a surname?" "Yes. The famous Crawford from the East Coast." "What is Crawford?" "What is Crawford? There are more than a dozen mean white guys named Mulenberg on this ship." The woman was frightened into silence by the famous anti-Chinese German surname, "Then this doctor with a German accent is probably the Mulenberg family doctor..." "I have told them that this girl with carbuncles, Meng Qing, is the daughter you left in the countryside of Guangdong when you went back to your hometown to get married.If you don't go with her, do you want me, the famous madam of Chinatown, to walk into a trap?" The woman named Luo Wen remained silent. The madam stretched her neck and responded in broken English loudly, "She's sleeping. Sleepers are heavy. Wait a moment, sir, wait a moment." As she spoke, her sharp eyes focused, and her bejeweled hand stretched out to tug at the glossy, heavy jade bracelet on the pale, slender wrist of the young girl. She pulled hard, but it wouldn't budge. She looked back in disbelief, both hands now trying to pry it off. In the reflection of the porthole light, a silhouette was adorned with a multitude of jewelry and a fierce hooked nose. Luo Wen watched coldly and suddenly asked, "If I go on this trip with you, what's my cut?" "You get fifty percent of the selling price for each girl that gets through customs under your name—don't rush, even I only get twenty percent. This trip to Gold Mountain on the Santa Maria is not like in the past, nor as convenient as entering from Seattle. The Angel Island customs are specifically set up for the yellow race; naturally, thirty percent has to be set aside to deal with the white devil police. Otherwise, do you think money is so easy to make?" Under current circumstances, it has become increasingly difficult for people of the yellow race to enter through the Angel Island Immigration Station in San Francisco. Smugglers can only enter the United States through Seattle and then take the train back to San Francisco. If it were not for the fact that the captain and crew of several middle-aged men and women with more than twenty girls had been bribed in advance, no ocean liner would be willing to take them. Fortunately, the old madam Jiang Su had a chain behind her that almost involved half of the most prominent figures in San Francisco's Chinatown. She not only bribed the first mate and several sailors of the Santa Maria luxury liner but also paved the way through the U.S. embassy in Guangdong and even the federal police and Angel Island customs. Luo Wen was silent for a while, then asked the madam, "The first-class ticket to Vancouver that her husband bought for her, after you tricked it away, you sold it for eighty silver dollars, right?" The madam, caught off guard, was both guilty and annoyed, and her pitch rose three degrees: "You'll get your share!" Luo Wen smiled, "Don't forget." Thinking about it, she also warned Jiang Su: "Although she is illiterate, you should take away that letter as soon as possible, so she won't find someone who can read it for her one day... With the convenience of the railway, finding a way from San Francisco to Vancouver to find her husband is not too difficult." The madam dismissed the concern: "If she could read that letter, she would understand that her husband would not want her. Even if she went to Vancouver, she would have nowhere to go; staying put, at least she would have a meal to eat." The knocking outside became more urgent. "Coming." The door opened, and Luo Wen carried the girl on her back, walking out with the servant sent by Andre Crawford. The three walked through the dimly lit third-class corridor to the elevator intersection in the passenger cabin to wait. After a moment, the elevator arrived. The door opened, and a group of white men and women from the first class came out, all of whom were very distinguished in height and appearance. As they passed by, a young man in a dark blue sweater was telling his companions about the interesting stories of his trip to Hong Kong, with an exaggerated Nevada accent. "Driving with Andre to Wan Chai, three yellow ladies came over and threw coquettish glances at Andre." The white man switched to Cantonese, imitating a woman's tone: "'Sir, Chinese girl is good! A dime for a look, two dimes——'" The white ladies giggled. "What happened next?" The man suddenly stopped talking, pausing in his steps and squinting his eyes, looking towards them. A lady also turned her head along his gaze, murmuring, "Am I mistaken? Isn't that Andre's servant? Why is he with Chinese people?" It was at that very moment that Huai Zhen's eyelids flickered, her brows furrowed, and she slowly lifted her delicate eyelashes, opening her eyes to look towards the source of the sound. The elevator doors slowly closed, barely passing a slender and upright shadow to her through the c***k of light before swaying upwards. Huai Zhen was killed by a Syrian refugee. On her way home from grocery shopping, he approached her saying he was very hungry and wanted the half-eaten curry sausage fries in her bag. She stopped her bicycle and handed him the bag. At that very moment, he mercilessly smashed her skull with a Heineken bottle hidden in his other hand. She immediately fainted. But she wasn't sure if she had been violated. Because when she woke up again, time had reversed by nearly a century, and she found herself lying in a third-class cabin of a luxury cruise ship crossing the Pacific Ocean, becoming a new bride from Guangdong named Meng Qing. From the moment she arrived, she desperately wanted to survive and see what kind of misfortune the girl named Huai Zhen in Hamburg, Germany, in the 2010s, encountered in the following defenseless moments. And what inevitable connection all this had with the Chinese community, which Americans called the "Yellow Peril," in this era over a hundred years ago. Therefore, every choice she made from the moment she became Meng Qing, she rewrote the fate of this new bride from Guangdong again and again. · The huge ferry was slowly crossing the Pacific Ocean. The weather was not very good that day. The chaotic waves slapped against the ship from time to time, and the Santa Maria ocean liner was sailing on the boundless waves. The heavy metal cut through the waves all the way, making a dull and mournful thud. The journey was on its twenty-seventh day, and it would arrive at the port tomorrow. The cruise ship set off from the port of Shantou in far-east China, passed through the Central Ferry Terminal in Hong Kong, transferred from Honolulu, and finally landed in San Francisco. The end of the journey was the Angel Island Immigration Station, located more than ten kilometers from the city of San Francisco, on the San Francisco Bay. This immigration station was specifically set up for Chinese people. Over the past eighty years, the increasingly strict Chinese Exclusion Acts, along with the extremely strict screening system of the Angel Island Immigration Station, have together excluded nearly ninety-five percent of Chinese people from the new continent. This continent is really not very friendly to the ancient yellow-skinned race. In this country full of opportunities, the Long Island gentry looked down on New York City merchants and parvenus, Easterners looked down on Westerners, and whites looked down on people of color. Even Chinese people, who were looked down upon by people of color, can be said to be at the bottom of the ecological circle and the food chain. Just like the passengers on the Santa Maria. The night before arriving at the Golden Mountain City, a storm broke out at sea. The ship was brightly lit, and the servants hurriedly shuttled between the bar, wine cellar, kitchen, and underground warehouse, just because the last carnival was about to begin. First-class white guests smoked Havana cigars and read newspapers by the fireplace in the warm salon; second-class young people from middle-class families who went abroad to visit relatives sipped Chinese red tea on the deck, chatting and watching the sunset over the sea; third-class lower-ranking sailors and male students who went abroad to study on a scholarship took the opportunity to chat with young ladies, seizing the last chance to find romance... Only a few sailors and the first mate knew that one or two cargo holds, originally used to store vegetables, had long been sold at a low price to the notorious human traffickers in Chinatown and South China docks, to store their goods - a cabin of abducted girls. People are divided into three, six, and nine, and the class system has long been divided invisibly. Of course, there are one or two fish that slipped through the net. Among the abducted girls was a new bride from Guangdong. She was supposed to go to Vancouver to find her newly married husband, but she was deceived by a kidnapper onto this ship bound for the Golden Mountain. In desperation, she swallowed a medicine for carbuncles and committed suicide. A friendly white family doctor from the East Coast happened to pass by and saved her life out of kindness. The human trafficker falsely claimed that she was the youngest daughter of an American Chinese left in the countryside of Guangdong. To cover up, the human trafficker even bought a third-class ticket at a low price from a sailor for this girl, providing her with a bed for treatment. No one knew that this young woman from Guangdong, who had gone through the gate of hell, had already changed her soul. The door of the third-class cabin opened. The white doctor, carrying a medicine box, spoke English with a strong German accent: "She's not in serious condition anymore. It's just that she somehow got fleas. There's no bathroom in the third-class cabin, and Mr. Andre must be very willing to lend the bathroom to this lovely Chinese girl. Wait a moment, and I will ask someone to take her to the first-class cabin to take a bath." The Asian woman smiled and flattered the white doctor away. The door closed, and the two women looked back together at the damp and low bed. The girl looked no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. Typical Oriental face: a slightly protruding face the size of a palm, impeccable facial features, but a bit too light; a pale and delicate face with no blood on her lips; black and dense long hair, but it looked a bit greasy and knotted because it hadn't been washed for too long. Due to limited hygiene conditions, unfortunately, there were three or four pink rashes on the girl's forehead, whether it was fleas or some other infectious disease. She was wearing a grape purple satin jacket, so she couldn't see the dirt. It was densely embroidered with an eagle, and such a valuable and outdated outfit is really rare these days, and it is thought to come from a wealthy and noble family. Luo Wen asked, "What girl is so precious that she is willing to let the famous iron rooster in Chinatown buy a third-class ticket for her?" Jiang Su said, "She is a local from Qingyuan, married to the Wen family, a tea merchant in Yingde, as the second daughter-in-law. The second young master went to Vancouver to study and do business years ago, and now he is a rich businessman. Among the gold miners who went to America over a hundred years ago, he is one of the best." Luo Wen is a native Chinese woman whose husband runs a laundry shop in Chinatown, and her life is quite comfortable. The family lives upstairs in the laundry shop, directly opposite the Chinatown brothel. The owner of the brothel is the old madam Jiang Su. The two are neighbors, but they have not interacted for twenty years. If it weren't for Luo Wen's family wanting to move to an elevator apartment in Jackson Square outside Chinatown, but still short of money; and Luo Wen still has a child's immigration permit - Jiang Su immediately came to the door. This time, Luo Wen agreed to go abroad with her. Luo Wen is still a bit curious about this girl who has no relatives or friends and is about to enter the country as her daughter: "Her husband is a young man from Vancouver. Now that she is in your hands, you should at least extort him for a sum, right?" "That's not possible. The Wen family, as an old gentry, still lives in the rules of the previous dynasty and values their reputation so much. This girl has gone through my hands, and her reputation has already gone seven or eight points. Even if it's their own daughter, taking her back, most of them will be drowned to death by the older generation in the family temple, in front of the ancestors' tablets. Let alone this daughter-in-law from outside, who dares to keep her at home to be laughed at by others? Don't even mention Ding You... This time, taking her to Vancouver, I guess it's for her to consummate the marriage with that Wen young master. Being intercepted halfway to the Golden Mountain, do you think her husband will still want her?" Luo Wen was shocked: "Still a virgin?" The old madam laughed: "Yes. When she fainted, I have checked her body, no doubt." "Is this girl the one that Hong Ye, the head of the Renhe Hall, entrusted you to choose for his unworthy sixth son as a wife?" "If not for this, why would I buy this third-class cabin left empty by the*********, and risk my life to find a doctor for her? If it were another girl, throw the body into the sea at night--" Just as they were talking, there was a knock on the door. The person outside said in English in a low voice: "Mr. Andre is willing to lend the bathroom to the lady. The surrounding men have been sent to the next room, and you have three hours to freely use everything in the bathroom. As you requested - the clothes for changing have also been prepared." After hearing this, Luo Wen suddenly asked in a low voice: "Does this Mr. Andre have a surname?" "Yes. The famous Crawford from the East Coast." "What is Crawford?" "What is Crawford? There are more than a dozen mean white guys named Mulenberg on this ship." The woman was frightened into silence by the famous anti-Chinese German surname, "Then this doctor with a German accent is probably the Mulenberg family doctor..." "I have told them that this girl with carbuncles, Meng Qing, is the daughter you left in the countryside of Guangdong when you went back to your hometown to get married.If you don't go with her, do you want me, the famous madam of Chinatown, to walk into a trap?" The woman named Luo Wen remained silent. The madam stretched her neck and responded in broken English loudly, "She's sleeping. Sleepers are heavy. Wait a moment, sir, wait a moment." As she spoke, her sharp eyes focused, and her bejeweled hand stretched out to tug at the glossy, heavy jade bracelet on the pale, slender wrist of the young girl. She pulled hard, but it wouldn't budge. She looked back in disbelief, both hands now trying to pry it off. In the reflection of the porthole light, a silhouette was adorned with a multitude of jewelry and a fierce hooked nose. Luo Wen watched coldly and suddenly asked, "If I go on this trip with you, what's my cut?" "You get fifty percent of the selling price for each girl that gets through customs under your name—don't rush, even I only get twenty percent. This trip to Gold Mountain on the Santa Maria is not like in the past, nor as convenient as entering from Seattle. The Angel Island customs are specifically set up for the yellow race; naturally, thirty percent has to be set aside to deal with the white devil police. Otherwise, do you think money is so easy to make?" Under current circumstances, it has become increasingly difficult for people of the yellow race to enter through the Angel Island Immigration Station in San Francisco. Smugglers can only enter the United States through Seattle and then take the train back to San Francisco. If it were not for the fact that the captain and crew of several middle-aged men and women with more than twenty girls had been bribed in advance, no ocean liner would be willing to take them. Fortunately, the old madam Jiang Su had a chain behind her that almost involved half of the most prominent figures in San Francisco's Chinatown. She not only bribed the first mate and several sailors of the Santa Maria luxury liner but also paved the way through the U.S. embassy in Guangdong and even the federal police and Angel Island customs. Luo Wen was silent for a while, then asked the madam, "The first-class ticket to Vancouver that her husband bought for her, after you tricked it away, you sold it for eighty silver dollars, right?" The madam, caught off guard, was both guilty and annoyed, and her pitch rose three degrees: "You'll get your share!" Luo Wen smiled, "Don't forget." Thinking about it, she also warned Jiang Su: "Although she is illiterate, you should take away that letter as soon as possible, so she won't find someone who can read it for her one day... With the convenience of the railway, finding a way from San Francisco to Vancouver to find her husband is not too difficult." The madam dismissed the concern: "If she could read that letter, she would understand that her husband would not want her. Even if she went to Vancouver, she would have nowhere to go; staying put, at least she would have a meal to eat." The knocking outside became more urgent. "Coming." The door opened, and Luo Wen carried the girl on her back, walking out with the servant sent by Andre Crawford. The three walked through the dimly lit third-class corridor to the elevator intersection in the passenger cabin to wait. After a moment, the elevator arrived. The door opened, and a group of white men and women from the first class came out, all of whom were very distinguished in height and appearance. As they passed by, a young man in a dark blue sweater was telling his companions about the interesting stories of his trip to Hong Kong, with an exaggerated Nevada accent. "Driving with Andre to Wan Chai, three yellow ladies came over and threw coquettish glances at Andre." The white man switched to Cantonese, imitating a woman's tone: "'Sir, Chinese girl is good! A dime for a look, two dimes——'" The white ladies giggled. "What happened next?" The man suddenly stopped talking, pausing in his steps and squinting his eyes, looking towards them. A lady also turned her head along his gaze, murmuring, "Am I mistaken? Isn't that Andre's servant? Why is he with Chinese people?" It was at that very moment that Huai Zhen's eyelids flickered, her brows furrowed, and she slowly lifted her delicate eyelashes, opening her eyes to look towards the source of the sound. The elevator doors slowly closed, barely passing a slender and upright shadow to her through the c***k of light before swaying upwards.