Chapter 84: The Great Depression (Part Three)
Translator: Kim_Guo Editor: Tehrn
This was a time when Bruce Lee hadn’t been heard of in America, this was a time when America had just experienced World War I, this was a time when America was in the Great Depression.
In this time, the Americans didn’t know much about the Japanese, never heard of China, and didn’t care about the Orient at all. Nobody was looking forward to watching Chinese kung fu, just as no one was expecting Herbert Clark Hoover.
Huang Xuan made a provocative gesture with his hand at Thomas and laughed. The crowd clamored at once.
Several employees of Ford Company were expecting a big scene. Thomas looked at the thin Huang Xuan scornfully and said with a laugh, “Do you even have a cent?”
However, the people in Detroit didn’t care about trash talk. Thomas, who was disappointed at this, took off his suit, stepped forward, and said, “Kid, let me send you back to your tribe. We have work to do.”
Huang Xuan started limbering up his wrists. If there had been only one person on the other side, he would have rushed over before the guy opened his mouth.
Finally, Thomas was ready. He handed the folder to his assistant, walked toward Huang Xuan, rubbing his finger joints, and said with a smile, “The guy from the Philippi—”
A stream of air came out of Thomas’ throat. He was like an angry boar. Huang Xuan punched him so hard below his scapula that Thomas drew back two steps. Huang Xuan jumped up and gave him a blow to the eyes, which brought the fight to an end.
At this moment, the manager in brown came with some men and happened to see Huang Xuan punch Thomas and was surprised. He hurried to Huang Xuan and whispered, “Hi, kid, run away. Now!”
“Wait. I want to try him out.” Julien, who was nearly two meters tall and always won in a strength match, started shaking his feet.
Huang Xuan wasn’t scared. He curled up his lips in disdain. Even if he lost, he had Rolin, who would help him anyway.
However, the manager came between the two. He said to Julien, “Mr. Ford is coming today. Don’t make trouble.”
“Are the workers all set?” the other responded, sounding as if he was compromising.
“Pick anybody you like,” the manager said and moved away. Then, 20 men were seen standing behind him.
Thomas got up from the ground, wiped the blood on the corner of his mouth and glared at Huang Xuan.
“I can draw graphs too. Can I have a try?” Hearing the name of Ford, Huang Xuan was interested. He wasn’t sure whether it was Henry Ford or Edsel Ford, but as long as he could talk, that was enough.
“Why are you still here!?” the guy in a brown coat yelled, “Are you waiting for me to kick your *ss?”
“The guy who wanted to kick my *ss earlier just got up from the ground,” Huang Xuan responded casually. “I want to have a try.”
The guy in a brown coat had the right to refuse Huang Xuan, but he didn’t. The others didn’t oppose obviously. The USA in the 1930s was extremely tolerant of violence. It was in this atmosphere that the men from Sicily had started to settle in the big cities of America such as Detroit, Chicago, Houston, and so on ever since the Great Depression.
“If you are lying to me, I will kill you,” the man said viciously. Huang Xuan just smiled.
The unemployed workers didn’t show hate to Huang Xuan, which was distinct from the Germans. Although racism was still rampant in America, offering opportunities was the basis of the American society. On the other hand, Huang Xuan’s toughness made the workers feel close.
A short and fat Caucasian took the files in Julien’s hand and said to the several people including Huang Xuan, “Follow me.”
In a small room near the factory entrance, he drew out some diagrams of the parts and said, “Can you draw left view? One piece each. A draft will be OK.”
It was just a regular three-view drawing, but in this time even being able to read the diagram was a mark of a skilled worker. Julien also followed in curiously and was waiting for Huang Xuan to make a fool of himself. Ordinarily, only the students of technical schools and workers of factories would be taught these skills. However, Huang Xuan was too young to be either.
Thomas was standing behind Huang Xuan, covering his eyes and breathing heavily, as if he was disturbing Huang Xuan deliberately.
Huang Xuan couldn’t draw of course, but Rolin could. He took a pencil, pretended to be drawing and said to Rolin, “Help me.”
“Left view means that the drawing is looked at from the left side of the view,” Rolin corrected. Then he complained, “If I help you by manipulating you with energy, it will cost too much energy.”
“How much?” Huang Xuan asked coldly. “If we don’t settle this, we won’t be able to see Mr. Ford. Don’t wish that I would go find him at his home. Ten days is too short to do anything.”
“Fine,” Rolin compromised. Soon, Huang Xuan felt that there was a strand of energy around his arms. His fingers were moving naturally.
This was not a stiff manipulation but forceful guiding. Rolin had elevated the concentration of the air around Huang Xuan.
Three-view drawing was a basic step in an industrial drawing. Nevertheless, regular didn’t mean simple. Drawing demanded patience and carefulness, which usually weren’t seen in a teenager. To the arrogant and conceited Caucasians, these merits were not supposed to be seen in a person of the yellow race. To them, the people with dark skin might be better.
Many of the people present were technique elites, who knew well about the drawing steps and the difficulty. Huang Xuan’s performance surprised them. Thomas’ eyes were opened so wide that it seemed they were about to explode.
“Does it look OK?” Huang Xuan was uncertain, although he trusted Rolin.
“Sure.” Julien extended his hands toward his co-workers and said, “Above the standard.”
“So, I am hired?” Huang Xuan asked with a smile.
Thomas wasn’t proud anymore at this moment and thought that his intelligent quotient needed to be improved after that failure.
The guy in brown patted Huang Xuan’s shoulder in surprise and said, “Not bad.”
“OK, follow me.” The fat Caucasian man dragged Huang Xuan and five other men and walked out.
Huang Xuan staggered behind and asked, “Which Mr. Ford is coming?”
“The boss,” someone answered simply and then asked Huang Xuan, “Where did you learn drawing diagrams? From your father?”
“Yes.”
“The boss should be Edsel. He is supposed to have taken over Ford,” Rolin explained.
“As long as he is rich.” Huang Xuan smiled and asked, “Where will he go? I mean how I can meet him?”
“Why do you want to meet him?”
“Er… I worship him.”
Some men started laughing. Thomas said coldly, “Edsel will come to our workshop. You will see him. Little guy.”
“I will,” Huang Xuan answered seriously.
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