This guy really went all out with the advertising tonight. The Seagull tourbillon appeared in Parisian newspapers the very next day, and the legend of this magical watch quickly spread across the European continent. Meanwhile, its owner had already set off for England.

The Black Arrow, a private yacht newly redecorated inside, was speeding along the Seine, carrying the Chinese diplomatic mission to Britain, including Samuel Swift and William Howard. Franklin Young stood in the cockpit, humming a tune as he admired the scenery on both banks.

“Franklin, what kind of machine is this? Why doesn’t it burn coal?” Samuel Swift and the others were quite interested in his diesel engine. One by one, they gathered in the engine room at the stern, clicking their tongues in amazement at the two diesel engines.

Franklin was the courtesy name Franklin Young had given himself. Since it was fashionable at the time, he decided to get one too.

Now, with the Self-Strengthening Movement in full swing, the old Chinese officials had long regarded these ingenious devices as the trend. Especially reformers like Samuel Swift, who understood the importance of technology all too well.

“That’s called an internal combustion engine. It’s different from a steam engine; it burns oil. Right now, the ones made in Europe run on gasoline, but mine runs on diesel. I plan to submit a patent application for this design to the patent offices of various countries, and later, when I have the money, I’ll open my own factory to manufacture them,” Franklin Young said casually.

He really did intend to produce diesel engines—of course, not the 500-horsepower tank engines, which would be a bit too fantastical for this era. But engines for hand tractors were entirely feasible. His computer on the shuttle was packed with countless files; not only diesel engines, but even turbojet engines were in there.

So after arriving in London, he planned to apply for patents in various European countries. Whether he could actually get them was another matter, but he wasn’t in a hurry. There was no competition at this time—Rudolf Diesel didn’t apply for a patent for his engine design until 1892, and the first machine wasn’t built until 1897. He felt no pressure at all.

“Brother Franklin, are you interested in coming back to our country to make these things? You wouldn’t need to invest a penny. I can recommend you to Lord Li, and you could have your own factory, be the general manager, and even get a sixth-rank official hat. When the factory makes money, you’ll get a share of the profits too,” Samuel Swift said.

The old man’s offer was quite attractive—fame, fortune, and power, all without spending a dime. If Boss Young didn’t have grand ambitions, he might have considered it. Unfortunately, the person he was trying to fool was a seasoned veteran who knew the ins and outs of officialdom.

“Damn, this old fox is too cunning. If I really make a diesel engine, and Li the Second kicks me aside, who am I supposed to cry to then?” Franklin Young thought to himself.

“Sir Swift, it’s not just about having the design. You also need the supporting industrial base, and excellent workers,” he quickly replied.

“We don’t lack any of that back home. We can build ironclads ourselves—why not something this small?” Samuel Swift persisted. He wasn’t lying; by this point in the Self-Strengthening Movement, China’s industrial level was not low. It had already formed a system, able to build steam engines and ironclads. In fact, this very year, the Jinling Arsenal had begun copying 120mm rapid-fire guns. You could say that China at this time already possessed modern industry. Unfortunately, the First Sino-Japanese War would soon ruin it all. Thinking of this, Franklin Young couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

“Sir Swift, I actually already have a plan for this. I’ll first open a factory in Europe. Once normal production is up and running, I’ll bring over a group of workers from home. They’ll work and learn here, and once they’re well trained, I’ll set up a factory back home. That way, we can avoid problems,” Franklin Young said, trying to placate the old man for now.

Samuel Swift said nothing more. He was an old fox himself and naturally understood that Franklin Young was just stringing him along.

Chapter Five: Overnight Fortune

Half a month later, at Sotheby’s in London, a special auction was about to begin. Franklin Young, translator for the Chinese Embassy in Britain, had commissioned Sotheby’s to auction a wristwatch that could be said to represent the pinnacle of contemporary watchmaking craftsmanship. This had already been certified by several of Switzerland’s most renowned watchmakers. Whether it was Breguet, Patek Philippe, Vacheron Constantin, Jaeger-LeCoultre, or Audemars Piguet, all had admitted they were unable to produce a watch of the same caliber—at least not in the short term.

That alone was enough to make the old British pirates flock to it. Even more maddening, there were only nine such watches, because…

“This was made by a friend of mine, who poured his heart and soul into it for five whole years. He was a passionate watch enthusiast, and his lifelong dream was to one day reach the pinnacle of watchmaking craftsmanship. He succeeded, but unfortunately, tragedy struck at that very moment.” As Franklin Young spoke, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye—though the more he wiped, the more tears seemed to come.

“Mr. Young, although it may be impolite to continue this topic at such a time, we all wish to know what caused such a master to fall,” the reporter interviewing him said apologetically.

“It’s very simple. My friend was Jewish, and he lived in Russia. I think there’s no need to say more,” Franklin Young choked out.