America: A Prodigy of Stereotypes

……

On Dickman Street, John Sullivan was conducting interviews and investigations in the neighborhood when he returned to the home of the victim, Ms. Mary. Her husband, Shepard, opened the door for John and invited him inside.

The photos displayed on the cabinet in the hallway had changed. John clearly remembered that the last time he came, there were only photos of Mrs. Mary's son when he was young, but this time there were some new photos.

After leaving the Shepard house, John discovers that Mary Shepard's son, Jack Shepard, has all the elements of the Leigh Hills deduction, and his years of experience in solving cases remind him that Jack Shepard is a prime suspect.

John remembered what Jack Shepard looked like when he was young in the photo; the suspect, Jack, had long, curly hair when he was young.

John drove home, while Leopold, in his study, kept watch over the radio station while also flipping through a stack of radio-related books.

“Mr. Frank is not here right now,” Leopold told John.

“Mr. Leopold, when my father gets home, tell him I’ve found a suspect named Jack Shepard. He was also a homicide detective in the Queens homicide division thirty years ago. He had long, curly hair like a girl, was six feet one inch tall, and lived in…”

“Please speak slowly.” Leopold took notes, recording all the information John said.

Is that so?

Leopold showed John Sullivan his notes, and Leopold's handwriting was even better than what was printed.

“That’s right.” John nodded.

"I will pass on your message."

"I continued my investigation."

"Please take care."

Leopold rose to see John Sullivan out.

At the door, John turned back to Leopold and said, "Tell Frank, who was on the other end of the radio station thirty years ago."

“I know, neither of the Franks are home right now,” Leopold said.

John sat in the car, covering his forehead.

He discovered that the overlapping historical memories in his mind affected his judgment.

The house now belongs to the father, Frank Sr., but he doesn't live there.

During the last historical upheaval, the house belonged to him, and he lived alone in it.

John drove back to the police station and began looking up Jack Shepard's file.

"Any progress?" The colleague, sitting in front of the computer, pulled up Jack Shepard's information and glanced up at John.

"Correct."

“We are still missing some crucial evidence,” John told his colleague.

“Here’s this guy’s phone number, his license plate number, and his address,” the colleague smiled at John.

"Can you find his address from before?" John asked.

"We can't find any from thirty years ago," my colleague replied tactfully.

“Pay attention to the procedure,” a colleague reminded John.

"I know."

John is very bold now because his father, who changed history thirty years ago, gave him the confidence to try and fail.

At 5:30 p.m., John drove to Midtown High School to wait for Li Qun to get out of school. After seeing Li Qun walk out of the school, he called Li Qun into the car and told him about his day's achievements.

“John, are you planning to have the murderer caught and brought to justice thirty years ago?” Li Qun asked.

"This is my plan."

"If the murderer is caught, can he be sentenced to death?" Li Qun asked.

“Without the death penalty, he’ll spend his whole life in prison,” John replied.

"Not giving him the death penalty would be too lenient."

Chapter 40 "Little Big Soldier"

My dad had a lively Mid-Autumn Festival in the new millennium.

Having lived alone for many years, my father had almost forgotten what it was like to live with a large family.

It's already autumn, but the weather in New York is still very hot.

My uncle thought that we should have something different for dinner on the Mid-Autumn Festival. He was getting a little tired of the same old stir-fried dishes and rice every day.

He suggested having barbecue or hot pot, but his aunt and father rejected the idea because of the weather.

"I'll prepare it. Alou, you'll assist me." The old man put on his apron, and his demeanor changed abruptly.

"Dad, you can cook?" Uncle Huang Helou exclaimed in surprise.

“When I was young, I also worked in a restaurant, and my skills were no worse than your father’s,” the old man said to Huang Helou.

"Let me show you my cooking skills. There are some dishes that you've never seen or eaten before, Alou."

Huanghelou nodded.

Li Qun's maternal grandfather, Huang Yun, didn't pass on much of his culinary skills to his uncle, Huang Helou. The special dishes sold in the restaurant today are things he figured out and researched himself, piecing together his memories from the past.

"Ugh?"

Li Qun was also helping in the kitchen when he suddenly had an idea.

Thirty years ago, my maternal grandfather, Huang Yun, was still alive. If only he could leave behind his recipes, write them down and leave them with my father, so that he could find them thirty years later.

Perhaps it is feasible.

How much of a butterfly effect can simply leaving behind the recipe have?

Li Qun was somewhat afraid.

"Liqun".

"What is it, Dad?"

"I've brewed a vat of sweet rice wine. Go and get it; it's in my refrigerator," Dad instructed.

"I'll go right away."

A dozen minutes later, Li Qun returned carrying a wine jar.

My dad cooks very slowly and meticulously, unlike my uncle who can cook more than ten dishes in ten minutes. It takes him more than an hour to finish.

My uncle set up a table on his rooftop and lit a few candles. The moon was beautiful tonight; not only could we see the bright moon, but the night sky was also filled with the magnificent aurora borealis.

"The moon is so bright tonight!"

My cousin pointed his finger at the moon.

"Sigh, you can't point at the moon." The old man raised his hand and slapped his cousin Shuangxi's hand that was pointing at the moon.

"Dad, why can't I point?"

"Never mind all that, just don't point at the moon," Dad said.

"I remember."

Shuangxi moved several benches to the table and began their Mid-Autumn Festival dinner by candlelight and moonlight.

The old man instructed Liqun to open the lid of the wine jar and ladle sweet rice wine into everyone's bowl.

"It's not very strong, and you'll sleep well tonight after taking it," Dad said with a chuckle.

Shuangxi was overjoyed. This was the first time in his life that he had tasted wine. He picked up the bowl and smelled the fragrant aroma.

Sweet rice wine is the easiest wine to brew, but in my father's opinion, it doesn't count as wine; it's on par with a beverage.

There was only half a vat of fermented glutinous rice left in the wine vat. Li Qun carefully sealed the vat, went downstairs, and put it in the refrigerator for safekeeping.

No matter what festival it is, there will always be a chicken dish on the table of the people of Zhen Dan. The custom of eating chicken during festivals started in the Qin Dynasty.

After dinner, we cleaned the table and continued chatting, drinking tea, and eating mooncakes on the rooftop.

Without being in Aurora, Liqun always felt like it lacked the festive atmosphere of the Mid-Autumn Festival; there were no Mid-Autumn Festival-related programs to watch on TV.

Li Qun took out his phone and sent a text message to everyone in his phone's contact list, completely disregarding whether they knew about the Mid-Autumn Festival in Zhen Dan.

Happy Mid-Autumn Festival!!

For the Aurora people living in America, being in a foreign land, separated by the Pacific Ocean, Li Qun feels as if he is separated by a wall of origin.

Li Qun stood on the edge of the rooftop and looked elsewhere. There was no sign of the Aurora University students; they were also celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival.

And what about others? Will they miss their hometown, Aurora?

Li Qun couldn't help but mutter to himself once again that he lived in 2000.

Although Tony Stark has advanced the information age to the mobile internet stage, the amount of real information he knows about the new world, Aurora, is still pitifully small. He needs to expend a great deal of energy to distinguish the true content from various false information.

Although there was a lot of news about Aurora on TV, Li Qun only needed to watch for a few seconds to know that this was a moment of charm from American journalism.

Although they are not from the same world, the way Aurora and America interact still has a high degree of similarity.

The old man looked up at the moon, which hadn't changed much in thousands of years.

The old man reminisced about the past.

He has lived for a very long time; he can recall events as far back as the Warring States period, two thousand years ago.

He met Wenwu at the end of the Warring States period.

At that time, he was a cunning veteran, while Wenwu was a young and arrogant noble general.

At that time, my father was determined to return home after the war. However, after going through all the hardships to get back to his hometown, it was found that his hometown had been conquered by the Qin state.

Then, the Ruyi Jingu Bang (the magic staff) fell in front of him with the immortal wine, and he drank the wine and became an immortal.

Meanwhile, Wenwu also found the Ten Rings in another place, becoming another immortal and relying on the power of the Ten Rings to resist the "tyrannical Qin".

His hometown became part of the Qin state, and he became a Qin citizen. With the protection of the Ruyi Jingu Bang (the magic cudgel), Old Chen rose to the rank of general in the Qin Dynasty...

What if it had been the First Emperor who obtained the Immortal Wine of Immortality?

Or perhaps the Ten Rings chose the Ancestral Dragon?

The world today would never be like this, would it?