Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 63 Huang Meitang (Seeking monthly votes and recommendations)

January 15, 1892, is a memorable day for Larry, as he accumulated his wealth of over $10,000 for the first time in his life.

But as with all milestone days in history, despite the significance of the moment, those involved are often at a loss.

Larry sat in the first-class carriage of the train back to Boston, his eyes glazed over, his nerves on edge, filled with lingering fear, his hands still trembling in his coat pockets.

Larry was only 14 years old. Although he could have accumulated life experiences from his previous life, he had never had such a dramatic adventure as today.

On the swaying train, he would often unconsciously pull out his wallet to check his Reading Securities client ID card inside.

Only by doing so could he be sure that his crazy behavior over the previous two days was real—that he had really made a lot of money, deposited it with Reading, and was able to get out of Hartford unscathed.

Larry kept confirming it because, after calming down, he felt that what had happened to him in the past two days was too crazy, like a thrilling nightmare.

Even after the confirmation, Larry didn't feel much better, because the windfall didn't bring him happiness, only panic and immense inner pressure.

The train journey from Hartford back to Boston took nearly eight hours. Apart from the occasional trip to the restroom, Larry mostly just sat in his seat, lost in thought.

The train arrived in Boston at 10 p.m., and Larry spent the night at the Tremont Hotel.

Two weeks later, Larry checked into the hotel again, but his mindset was completely different. After entering the room, he locked the door and instead of lying on the bed, he took the pistol and slept in the bathtub, because only in this way could he feel safe.

The next morning, Larry woke up with a start in the bathtub. He sat bolt upright, reached for the revolver that had slipped into the crevice of the tub, and let out a long breath as his mind gradually calmed down.

Larry pulled out his wallet again, took out the gold-embossed customer ID card, and indifferently stuffed it back into his wallet.

At this moment, Larry finally came to his senses.

He regained his normal mental state, could feel hungry, felt a bloating in his lower abdomen and wanted to urinate, and could even smell the strong body odor caused by his sweat.

Larry got out of the bathtub, went to the toilet, took a shower, and then strolled to the dining room to leisurely finish his breakfast.

As the warm food entered his stomach, Larry had accepted the events of the past two days, but he didn't deliberately think about the money he had in Reading Company.

Mr. Porter is absolutely right. For me, what's important is not making money, but accumulating experience and knowledge.

Larry decided not to consider any stock trading for the entire following week.

At 10 a.m., Larry rushed back to Paine Weber Securities and relayed the exact words of the Colt executives to Mr. Wallace.

Mr. Wallace praised Larry for his successful business trip and allowed him to go home and take the day off today.

Today is Saturday, and the brokerage firm is only open for half a day.

Normally, Larry would gather around the stock quote board to check the latest stock prices, but he wasn't in the mood today. Since Mr. Wallace had given him the day off, he went straight out of the company and walked back to his apartment in the Back Bay.

Larry took a copy of The Boston Globe from the porch, returned to his room, took off his coat, and casually flipped through the newspaper to pass the time.

"Knock, knock," the apartment door was suddenly knocked on rhythmically.

Larry was initially nervous, but quickly realized that it was Mrs. Winthrop's maid, Carmel, who had come to clean the room, as only she would knock like that.

Larry walked behind the door, peeked through the crack, and sure enough, it was Carmel. He then opened the door.

"Hello, Mr. Livingston. I just heard you've returned. I apologize for bothering you since you haven't been home for the past few days. May I help you clean your room now?"

Carmel smiled, her fine crow's feet deepening into a smile. Larry smiled politely at her and stepped back to make room for her. "Thank you so much, Ms. Carmel. I'm sorry to trouble you with the cleaning again."

With Larry's permission, Carmel turned around, grabbed his cleaning tools, and began cleaning the house.

Larry suddenly remembered that his first Italian pistol was still under his pillow. While Carmel was tidying up the living room, he took the pistol and put it in his pocket.

Carmel was very quick and efficient, and soon she had tidied up the bedroom. She frowned as she looked at Larry's sheets, which were covered in dust since Larry had been away from home for several days.

“Mr. Livingston, I suggest you change the sheets and wash the old ones. The laundry workers will be coming to collect your clothes around noon, and if you don’t mind, you can have them wash them as well.”

Larry agreed.

Carmel again suggested that Larry could also send any clothes he couldn't wash in time to the laundry service.

Larry looked up and thought for a moment, realizing that what was more important for him was to get rid of his old, low-quality clothes. After all, most of those clothes were from before his rebirth, and they weren't presentable enough for Larry now.

Of course, the shirt I'm wearing is new and needs to be washed.

Larry was chatting casually with Carmel when the doorbell on the first floor suddenly rang.

Carmel smiled and said to Larry, "It must be the laundry workers. Please wait a moment." As he spoke, he went downstairs to open the door.

Before long, Carmel led a man carrying a wicker basket up to the second floor.

“This gentleman needs his sheets washed, as well as some clothes,” Carmel told the laundry worker behind him.

The laundry worker placed the wicker basket at his feet, looked up at Larry, frowned, and fell into deep thought.

Larry was also taken aback, because he recognized the laundry worker as Huang, the Chinese man he had met at the dock a few months earlier who claimed to be from Shanghai.

Of course, Larry knew that Huang was just his surname, but since it was their first meeting, they couldn't be too familiar with each other and so he didn't ask about his real name.

“Hello, Huang!” Larry was the first to extend his hand.

Huang seemed to remember Larry for a moment, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he reached out and grasped Larry's hands. "If I remember correctly, you are Mr. Livingston, oh, we met at the docks."

The two looked at each other and smiled.

Carmel was surprised that the two knew each other, but her cleaning work was nearing completion, so she picked up her cleaning tools and left the room.

"Do you have any clothes that need washing?" Huang asked first, fulfilling his job responsibilities.

“Yes, it’s the one I’m wearing. But I need to wear it to buy clothes later, so you can get the sheets and other clothes first.” Larry said, leading him into the inner room.

Under Larry's guidance, Huang skillfully threw the sheets and clothes into the basket.

Larry generously offered to let him do whatever he wanted with the old clothes, only saying that the bed sheets needed washing.

“Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Livingston.” Huang smiled as he collected the old clothes into his wicker basket.

“What’s your full name? I know that there’s a lot of overlap in Chinese surnames. If it’s convenient for you, could you tell me your full name?” Larry asked from behind him.

Huang turned around, straightened up, and introduced himself to Larry, "I am Huang Meitang!"

(End of this chapter)