While in Chinatown, white people were a rare sight, but once they entered Haight Street, Song Tianyao and Tang Boqi became raritys. Indeed, just as Tang Boqi had said, groups of young white men and women with unconventional styles were wandering the street. Some were painting graffiti on the walls of alleyways, some were sharing marijuana, and some were even carrying tape recorders, playing upbeat dance music, and inviting others to dance on the street.
Many more people strolled through the various shops along the street—clothing stores, shoe stores, sock stores, cosmetics stores, decoration stores, and so on—exchanging their thoughts on the decorations they had just bought with their companions.
Wigs of various colors, eyeshadow, tattoos, lip colors, and bizarre outfits, along with exaggerated earrings, made Song Tianyao click his tongue and mutter, "Welcome to the United States branch of the Funeral Love Family."
"Actually, there are wigs for sale in the malls near Chinatown, but if you want to see a wider variety, this street is the best choice." After driving Song Tianyao through the entire street, Tang Boqi drove back to a decoration shop in the middle of the street and said, "The big department stores sell high-end France goods, while this place sells cheap United States goods. You can't expect these guys to all have money to buy France wigs that cost hundreds of US dollars."
"You didn't know much about wigs last night," Song Tianyao asked Tang Boqi with a smile as he got off his motorcycle.
Tang Boqi sighed dejectedly, "Yes, this morning before I went to pick you up, I walked around the mall and this shop. My father said that if wigs are profitable, he wants me to do the same business as you."
"Actually, choosing Wall Street was the right decision. You're trying to achieve equality in United States," Song Tianyao said to Tang Boqi. "It's unlikely anywhere else, but in the financial market, everyone is equal. If you own a stock, it won't fall just because you're Asian, nor will it rise just because you're white. On the contrary, if you can manipulate financial power, you'll become a true United States. When you buy a car, the dealer might prioritize selling to white people, and you might face discrimination. But the financial market doesn't discriminate based on race; it only submits to power."
Tang Boqi, who had a faint smile on his face, was truly stunned. He looked Song Tianyao up and down. "How did you know? My thoughts? I mean, what you're saying doesn't sound like something a hotel owner would tell you."
"I share your thoughts, but the difference is that I'm not interested in the United States right now, while you're not interested in Hong Kong. A while ago, I read some data in United States financial journal that really caught my attention, so I took notes. The America GDP had risen from US dollars 137 billion in 1942 to US dollars 241 billion in 1950. Between 1945 and 1950, the United States population increased by nearly 80 million. In 1950 alone, the United States sold US dollars 33 billion worth of baby products. What does this show? It shows that the United States economy is developing rapidly. Right now, the only thing predicting a downturn in the United States economy is the Wall Street stock market. Under normal circumstances, with the United States economy this strong, stock prices should be soaring. Why, then, has the United States Wall Street stock market...?" Yet, things remain stagnant, just like during the Great Depression. This is because the wealthy on Wall Street were terrified by the experience of their stocks plummeting by 90%. Some jumped off buildings, some took poison, some went insane. The process of going from millionaires to multi-millionaires overnight is chilling. If I were in United States, I'd go to Wall Street to become a stockbroker, and I'd definitely be at the very top. Do you know why? The dawn of the Wall Street stock market is coming. You just need to sell any commercial stock, and that stock will almost immediately bring wealth to your clients. That way, when the stock market truly becomes a bull market, you'll already be a top financial advisor trusted by all your clients and admired by all your peers."Song Tianyao didn't rush to the store to look at wigs, but instead said to Tang Boqi, "Instead of waiting for others to become stockbrokers while you're adding detergent to the washing machine."
These words struck a chord with Tang Boqi. He was currently idle all day because he didn't want to compromise with his father and become the owner of the fourth laundry shop the family was preparing to open. He, a graduate of Boston University with a master's degree in economics, was going to do the same job as his illiterate father? What was the point of his father sending him to university then?
Moreover, it wasn't that he liked the women's malicious discrimination against him; he just wanted those discriminations to constantly remind him of the kind of country he lived in. If he could find a place in this country where he felt that ability was valued regardless of skin color, it would only be Wall Street in New York.
There, Asians can set up securities firms, and Black people can work in the stock market. They don't care about your skin color. As long as you have the ability and bring profits to the company, you are an outstanding America. The boss will pick a fair-skinned United States girl and send her to your bed as a reward. If anyone dares to joke about your skin color, your clients and boss will curse you on your behalf because of your outstanding abilities. That's the real America.
Instead of hiding in this small Chinatown in San Francisco, calling yourself United States, but what's the difference between this and living in China? Absolutely none.
Tang Boqi's faint smile vanished, replaced by a serious expression, as if his previous nonchalance had merely been a mask. "You can analyze the current situation on United States Wall Street from Hong Kong, and my uncle and father actually dared to try and steal your business? Are you kidding me? Your words weren't meant to deliberately distract me from your fake hair business, because I know those numbers better than you do. You've genuinely analyzed them, which is why you've surprised me so much, Song Tianyao."
"I don't care if other people are in the wig business. It's like how many motorcycle brands in United States make motorcycles, but why is Harley motorcycle the only classic now? There's nothing mysterious about what kind of business you do; what matters is how you do it. Let's go, let's go look at wigs." Song Tianyao smiled at Tang Boqi and turned to walk into the store.
Tang Boqi breathed a sigh of relief and followed Song Tianyao inside, "Impressive."
Inside the store, five or six young white men were browsing various accessories. Song Tianyao didn't rush to ask the shop assistants. Instead, he approached a young white man wearing a vest that revealed his arms with various tattoos, long hair, and was choosing earrings, and greeted him in English: "Friend, your tattoos are very beautiful."