Chapter 3: A Complete Change

  Four days later in Paris, France, a Chinese tycoon who was driving his private yacht around the world appeared on the entertainment pages of many newspapers. This young and handsome Oriental man not only had a yacht that used a diesel engine he invented himself but also brought with him a mysterious medicine.

  According to the description of the captain of the French naval ironclad ship Le Rhin, this injection called Tianyishengshui, with a dose about the size of a tear drop, brought back one of his sailors from the hands of death. At that time, the sailor was on the verge of death due to relapsing fever and had been given up by the ship's doctor as having no hope of recovery.

  "Zhēn tā mā néng chě, míng míng shì lǎo zi zhì hǎo le tā de měi dú!" Yáng dà lǎo bǎn yī liǎn bù xì de shuō.

  Translation:

  "Really, he's just making it up, it was clearly me who cured his Mei poison!" Yang boss said with a scornful face while looking at the newspaper in his hand.

  It's quite unexpected, after encountering the Styx returning from Algeria to Brest at sea, he originally wanted to ask for directions and leave, but when he learned that his yacht was fast and was heading to France, the captain immediately asked him to help send a sailor who had contracted yellow fever halfway to Paris. With such a good opportunity, Yang Feng naturally wouldn't miss it.

  He told the French that he had a kind of ancestral special medicine, which could be said to cure this disease, and the French naturally thought it was good. This sailor originally had little hope, and was just trying to treat a dead horse as if it were alive. Who would have thought that after Yang Feng finished the skin test and gave him an injection of diluted penicillin, the symptoms of this sailor began to alleviate greatly in no time?

  The captain of the submarine immediately welcomed him as a honored guest, and invited him to dinner. He drank red wine and ate steak while boasting about the efficacy of penicillin, emphasizing that it was also effective against stubborn diseases like meningitis, and he knew exactly what kind of people these Frenchmen were.

  As soon as dinner was over, he was mysteriously invited to the captain's quarters and somewhat awkwardly told that he happened to be troubled by one of these stubborn illnesses.

  After that, it was easy to deal with the captain's unspoken difficulties with penicillin. Yang Feng immediately became the object of his fawning, especially after learning that Yang Feng could get a steady supply of this miraculous medicine from China. Captain Lavrov would have liked to cut off a rooster's head and burn yellow paper in the Chinese way to show his gratitude.

  "Yang brothers, you sound like you're from the capital city, right? I don't know what your respected father's name is?" The zombie-like person sitting across from him smiled faintly at his crude words and then asked with some doubt.

  "Huang, to be honest with you, I'm actually an American Chinese, and all that nonsense about ancestral divine medicine was just something I used to fool these foreigners. In fact, including this ship, it's all my own invention, along with a group of like-minded young people, and we're planning to take it to Europe to make some money." Yang Feng said with a smile, the thin, dry man sitting in front of him was none other than the famous poet and diplomat Huang Zunxian.

  Study books, study swords, none of which can be done, rubbing temples gradually becomes white hair. Parents and relatives are happy to congratulate, thirty years ago when falling to the ground. It is said that although Yang Dabo did not learn any skills, he could still remember this poem.

  Lao Huang had just arrived in Paris with the new British, French, Italian and Belgian Envoy Xue Fucheng, and would soon be heading to London as Second Secretary of the Chinese Legation. As a wealthy Chinese globe-trotter, Yang Feng naturally should have paid his respects at the Chinese Embassy in Paris first. Although it was rare for Chinese people to be in Europe at that time, it wasn't rare enough for Envoy Xue Fucheng to personally receive him, so this task fell to Huang Zunxian as a staff member.

  "Oh, Brother Yang is an American Chinese, I wonder where he lived in the United States? This official also lived in the United States for a few years, and the Chinese in the Americas are also familiar." Huang Zunxian said with a smile.

  "Ah? I hope Mr. Huang will excuse me, these friends of mine don't like to be known by outsiders, you also know that the current anti-Chinese sentiment in America is very severe, it's hard for us Chinese people to survive, and the techniques they possess are easily coveted by those foreigners, so we have to be careful. Yang Feng said hastily, he had forgotten that Old Huang was once a consul general in San Francisco, perhaps he knew more about America than himself."

  Huang Zunxian nodded slightly, as a Qing dynasty official, if nothing else, his ability to observe and listen was absolutely top-notch. The guy in front of him, dressed so strangely, probably told nine lies out of ten sentences, but this wasn't worth paying attention to. In the official circles, someone who tells nine lies out of ten sentences is already considered very honest.

  Mr. Yang, the big boss, came to the Chinese embassy for a job, in his words, it was to serve the imperial court, even if he wasn't paid, as long as he could be given an opportunity to serve the imperial court and the empress dowager, he would be eternally grateful.

  "Huang sir, you also know that we overseas Chinese have a greatest wish to return home with honor. To be honest, we don't care about money now, what we want is to have an official position, so when we go back, it will be glorious for our ancestors." Yang Feng said sincerely, his flattering expression was evident.

  He now urgently needs a backer, although the Qing dynasty won't last for many years, of course if he were to take charge it would collapse even sooner. But the problem is that right now it still has some strength left, at least it still has one of Asia's strongest fleets, and the Dingyuan and Zhenyuan have just been put into service a few years ago, and are in their prime for showing off military might to Japan. Even the old British Empire, which had been repeatedly defeated by France, has regained some of its former glory, especially since it recently made France eat humble pie in the Sino-French War. So, propping up appearances shouldn't be a problem.

  Huang Zunxian was quite welcoming of this, as at that time the Chinese envoys abroad were most lacking in staff who understood Western customs and human feelings. Although Yang Feng's background was unclear, just because he could speak five languages, he was considered a rare talent. After testing his language abilities, Huang reported back to Xue Fucheng with some surprise, and thus Yang Feng became the translator at the Chinese embassy in the UK, suddenly transforming into a Chinese diplomat.

  After getting what he wanted, Yang Da Boss returned to the Seine River with a sense of satisfaction, still living on his yacht. As soon as he arrived at the dock, he saw dozens of French naval officers gathered beside his boat. As soon as Captain Lavel saw him, he immediately pounced over like a fly seeing blood.

  "Dear Yang, you're finally back!" This poisonous Mei, who hadn't yet fully recovered from his hangover, hugged Yang Feng tightly with deep emotion, feeling the rough skin like sandpaper, and immediately gave Yang a chill.

  "Captain Lavier, these are friends!" He hastily pushed the guy away, then looked around at the surrounding officers who were full of flattering smiles and said in a low voice.

  "They're all like me, in need of your help." Raviel said quietly with an embarrassed expression.

  Yang Feng stared at him with a mixture of shock and disgust, then looked at the military officers again, feeling a chill run down his spine. Of course, he wasn't the French Minister of Defense, so it was none of his business if the naval officer's security measures were inadequate when finding a mistress. What Yang Feng cared about was his own income problem. The man pulled Lavel to one side and asked in a low voice: "Did you explain the price clearly?"

  He had an agreement with Raviel that this guy would bring him a customer and he would give him a 10% commission, but the price of the medicine was not cheap.

  Ravier nodded and said, "Yang, according to your request, one thousand francs per injection, but they require payment in installments."

  "This won't do, I won't be staying in Paris for long because I've already accepted the appointment of Qing Dynasty's embassy to Britain and will soon go to London as a translator."

  "Alright! They can each pay one hundred francs in advance, and I'll give them each an injection of the diluted serum. If they feel it's effective, then I'll sell them each a vial at a price of one thousand francs, along with instructions on how to use it, and let them find their own doctors to administer it."

  It's reasonable to say that this approach is more reasonable, the key is that Yang Feng has to give them skin tests one by one, he doesn't want penicillin to cause deaths as soon as it comes out.

  Those officers didn't have any opinion on this either. Although 1,000 francs was not a small sum of money, compared to their own unspoken secrets and future prospects, it was nothing worth mentioning. Soon these guys paid the money, got vaccinated, and then returned home with a hint of anxiety each finding their own mother.

  Ravier asked while dividing the spoils with Yang Feng, "Yang, why didn't you stay in Paris? You could have opened a pharmacy here and sold your medicine exclusively."

  Yang Feng smiled faintly and didn't answer.

  Why?

  A city that has just undergone a formatted transformation twenty years ago, how much oil can be squeezed out? London is different, the wealth of the whole world is concentrated there. Think about those ancient families that have continued for hundreds of years, think about the staggering wealth of the British royal family, Yang Feng felt that a huge gold mountain was waiting for him to dig!

  The effect of penicillin is naturally not to be said, especially in this era when people have no resistance to speak of. Although Yang Feng injected them with diluted doses, he still achieved almost immediate results. The next morning, Yang was brushing his teeth against the river water of the Seine River! Yesterday, those officers rushed to the dock like a pack of wolves, waving banknotes and screaming, scaring Huang Zunxian who came to find Yang Feng half to death.

  "Mr. Huang, help your brother out, I'll deliver the goods and you collect the money, 1,000 francs per person." Yang Feng didn't bother with politeness anymore, directly pulling Huang Zunxian onto the boat, having him in charge of distributing the medicine, while Huang Zunxian was in charge of counting the money.

  "Yang Lao Di, what kind of medicine is this?" After these officers dispersed, Huang Zunxian wiped the sweat from his forehead and stared at the tens of thousands of francs in front of him, saying incredulously.

  At that time, the franc was on the gold standard, with 1 franc equivalent to 0.29 grams of gold. One hundred francs were almost equal to one tael, and nearly ten taels of gold could be exchanged for just a small vial of medicine, which was simply **worth its weight in gold!