Chapter 39 Do You Dare to Believe the 77% Tax? ?

"Boss, from now on, you need to worry about your income tax." Sanier blinked and said with a gloating smile.

"..."? ? ?

When he learned from Sanil that the personal tax he needs to pay next year is nearly 100 million dollars, Li Zitao clutched his chest tightly, the pain was so great that he couldn't breathe.

"You should be glad that this is not 10 years ago. You must know that the tax rate in 1917 was as high as 67 percent, and in 1918 it was even more terrifying, at 77 percent."

In order not to further irritate the BOSS, Sanier ignored the frightening inheritance tax. Of course, this is also related to Li Zitao being far away from it.

"How were Morgan and Rockefeller born? What kind of shady scene is there? Is it discrimination against people of color? Is it the injustice of the law or the loss of morality??"

Li Zitao suddenly felt desperate for this world, and he was even more glad that he did not appear in that era. With a tax rate of 77%, this is not heaven, but hell, right?

"Morgan and Rockefeller, any family in the United States, their wealth has been accumulated and precipitated for nearly a hundred years, accumulated over time, and you..."

Sanier's eyes became complicated, and Li Zitao's experience can really be explained by these four words.

From nothing to being worth over 100 million yuan, it took this magical Chinese boy 5 months.

If there is a miracle in America, then the miracle was born in front of her eyes, and she is fortunate to personally join in this dream-making miracle.

"Boss, you are a miracle." Sanil said with a blurred gaze.

"Let's go! I need a good drink now to soothe my bleeding heart." After getting out of the car and raising his right arm, and waiting for Saniel to take his arm, Li Zitao led her into the three-bedroom house in front of him. A Chinese restaurant made of red bricks.

"Welcome to both of you. Do you have a reservation?" The kind Chinese face greeted them, and they were obviously a little surprised when they saw the combination of Li Zitao and Sanelle, one yellow and one white.

In this era, seeing a white woman holding a yellow-skinned Chinese is definitely more surprising than a three-legged monkey.

"Charlie Lee, I have a reserved seat." Following the young man in a coat, white socks, and cloth shoes to the seat, Li Zitao looked at the decoration full of hometown atmosphere.

This place was run by the well-known Mei family in the Chinese labor union, and the address is at the junction of Yonghuo Street and 23rd Street, where the Mei family is based.

The reason why he chose to meet Grant here was entirely to satisfy Li Zitao's curiosity. He wanted to see how beautiful the Mei family, which is well-known in the United States, is.

The other party rejected Lao Huang's solicitation many times, even after he subdued Paul.

Maybe it's his radical style that doesn't match the Chinese ideas influenced by Confucianism for thousands of years?

"Hi, Mr. Li." Going up to the third floor, the space between the tables has widened a lot, and only a few people are sitting in the seats, chatting quietly and tasting the food.

"Call me Charlie!" After sitting down, Li Zitao pointed to Saniel beside him and said, "This is my friend, Saniel...Grant, Chief of the Chicago Police Department."

"It's an honor to meet you, beautiful lady." Grant lifted his butt off the chair and said with a slight bow.

"I'm also honored, Chief Grant." Saniel bowed and smiled. Today, she is not wearing a lady's attire, so naturally she doesn't have to take off her hat and bend her knees.

After being polite, the Chinese boy stepped forward appropriately, and put the menu in front of the three of them, in two copies, one Western food and one Chinese food.

"Here are some home-cooked dishes, is there any wine shipped from Huaguo?" Li Zitao asked casually looking at the menu.

"Yes, 10-year-old Nurhong, and sorghum wine with higher alcohol content." The younger brother deliberately lowered his voice.

"That's all." Li Zitao closed the menu.

Sanelle ordered a Boston lobster, bread and cheese for herself, while Grant ordered a steak.

"Sir, your wine." Two wine jars with big heads were brought to the table.

On the top is a cover made of straw or mud. The little brother held a small hammer in his hand and used a paper pad to knock the mud open on the spot, and then stepped aside again.

"Very interesting way, boss, is this wine from the East?" Sanil looked at the paper seal on the wine jar with great interest, and unconsciously licked the corner of her mouth.

"That's right, it comes from my motherland, let's try it together." Like what he saw on TV, he pierced the paper seal with his fingers, and the corners of Li Zitao's eyes twitched unconsciously.

Mdzz~

He knew that the TV series was unreliable, so his hands were stuck in the wine.

He picked up the wine as if nothing had happened, poured three bowls, and Li Zitao took his hand back when the two of them were not paying attention.

"It's very fragrant, and it smells like earth." Sanier held the bowl in both hands, put it in front of her and smelled it, and took a sip.

"Cheers." Li Zitao ignored her, put his thumb on the inner edge of the bowl, picked it up, touched Grant, who was a little clumsy, and gulped it down.

The taste of Nurhong was not as good as imagined, it was a bit soft with a sweet aftertaste, Li Zitao was not very used to it, so he opened the sorghum wine again.

"Charlie, the oriental wine is great." Li Zitao was drinking sorghum wine, while Grant and Saniel fell in love with Nurhong, and even said they would buy a few jars to take away.

After drinking for three rounds, Li Zitao put the bowl on the table, and he was no longer in a hurry to drink. Grant also mentioned his plight, "Charlie, everything is Capone's fault, you know, when that lunatic was around, there was no People dare to fight against him."

Of course, no one dared to oppose him, because those who opposed him were either dead or sunk, but Grant was definitely not included.

Even if Capone is a mad dog, he will never dare to kill the police chief, and this chief is also the chief of the Chicago Police Department in the second largest city in the United States.

"Okay, Grant, it's time for food." Li Zitao could already smell the familiar smell of sour vinegar when he saw the younger brother bring up the plate.

Sweet and sour fish, sweet and sour pork, spicy crayfish, lamb head stew, and a bowl of clear soup noodles, this special dish is really interesting.

Sour, sweet, spicy, a sheep's head stew, with only two swollen white eyes on the pale sheep's head.

The last bowl of noodles in clear soup, white noodles floating in the yellowish soup, sprinkled with shallots on top, 'What do you mean? Clear distinction? Or clean and clear? '

"Haha, Mr. Li is a great driver, welcome at a distance!" Li Zitao was figuring it out, and the middle-aged man in a black Tang suit and a white apron walked over with his fists clasped.

"This is our chef and boss, Second Master Mei." The little brother next to him introduced.

"Go, this is the United States, what is Mr. Mei, Mr. Li can just call me Mei Er." Mr. Mei pretended to be annoyed and patted the younger brother, telling him to leave and then said politely.

"Second Lord, come and sit down!" Li Zitao didn't mind, the dress, the name, was quite interesting, a bit like a mansion.

From the Chinese families like Lao Huang, Li Zitao learned something about the Mei brothers. They were the first Chinese to set foot in Chicago.

In the 1870s, the Mei brothers had already arrived in Chicago and wrote letters inviting their compatriots from San Francisco to come and settle in Chicago.

By the 1980s, there were more than 50 members of the Mei family in Chicago, and more than 400 Chinese also settled here.

In the early 1990s, there were more than 600 Chinese in Chicago, forming the first Chinese community, which is the rich area where I live now, South Keeler Street.

Opening Chinese hand-washing business, grocery stores, restaurants, and forming Chinese labor unions, the Mei brothers firmly entangled the Chinese by their side.

By the beginning of the 20th century, South Keeler Street had become a gathering place for Chinese. More than 1,300 Chinese scattered in various districts of Chicago would choose to meet here on weekends.

Meeting relatives and friends, enjoying authentic Huaguo delicacies, relaxing at fan stalls, or tasting cigars and opium, it already has the appearance of Chinatown.

When there are major celebrations and festivals during the New Year, Chinese people all over Chicago will gather on Nankel Street, wearing handmade silk dresses, white socks, and thick-soled shoes, to celebrate together.

Later came the famous "Chinese Exclusion Act". The Chinese in California were treated unfairly, and the Qing government boycotted trade with the United States, which caused dissatisfaction among the rich in Chicago one after another.

Rents on South Keeler Street continued to rise, and the Chinese in Chicago suffered unjustly. With the construction of the new federal government building here, the Chinese will retreat to the current 22nd Street, Yonghuo Street and Shemer Road.

Of course, there are other reasons for this, such as the two major Chinese labor unions, the previous hostility between Anliang and Xiesheng, the previous enmity between the Mei family and the Tang family, and the pressure brought by the federal government. The stories in it are enough to write a book. Novel.

"I don't know what Li Sheng thinks, does the food suit your taste?" Second Master Mei pulled a stool from the side and sat down at a certain distance from the dining table.

"It's been a long time since I've seen my hometown food, but just looking at it makes me satisfied." Li Zitao smiled, pointed to his head and said, "Spiritual aspects."

"That's right! It's hard to leave our homeland. If it weren't for the hard times, who would want to leave their hometown!" Second Master Mei said with some emotion.

"It seems that the business here is good." Li Zitao held the fish with his chopsticks and tasted it slowly. There was nothing like what he said, "It's been a long time since I saw the food from my hometown. '

"It's okay, I rely on some old friends to take care of me." Second Master Mei smiled modestly.

"Jews." Li Zitao looked up and looked around.

"Yes, they are regular customers. The father brings the child, and the child grows up to become the father, and then brings the child." Second Master Mei's eyes shone with pride.

The Mei family has been operating in Chicago for half a century, and the contacts and resources they have accumulated are no joke.

In the current environment, this Chinese restaurant called Global Restaurant is busier than the high-end restaurants on Michigan Avenue and Roosevelt Road in the city center.

"Second Lord doesn't seem to welcome me?" After learning the routines from old movies in the 1960s and 1970s for a long time, Li Zitao couldn't hold back her airs anymore, and her mother was too tired to talk.

"Open the door for business, how could you not welcome it?" Second Master Mei clasped his fists toward the west.

"Then why did the second master say that people from Anliang are not allowed to come to District 22?" Li Zitao put the chopsticks on the table, and the atmosphere was a little stiff.

"Haha, who said that, the Anliang Chamber of Commerce and Industry is just for everyone to have a place to communicate, how can they order others to fail?" Second Master Mei smiled reluctantly.