"Ernst!"
Ernst had just returned home and was on his way to the office when his old father, who had just come back from Bagamoyo, stopped him.
"What is it, Father?"
"Yesterday, I went to Bagamoyo. Walking through the streets, I found East Africa's urban development quite gratifying. But I read in the newspapers that Chicago was building a skyscraper dozens of meters tall and planned to finish it in the next few years. I wanted to know whether East Africa could build one too. East African cities were almost identical to European ones, without much character of their own."
The moment Ernst heard this, he knew what his old father was after. If he had guessed correctly, the tall building Constantin mentioned was the Home Insurance Building in Chicago—the world's first skyscraper.
"Father, I think East Africa's buildings are already quite good. There's no need to blindly chase height, and East African buildings have their own visual appeal and artistic value."
"What do you know? I simply feel that East Africa lacks a landmark building that makes people's eyes light up. It was only because Chicago was building some tall structure to catch everyone's attention that I remembered it. And America even has the Statue of Liberty, while New York has a whole pile of clunky buildings. What a bunch of nouveau riche."
Hearing the old man's sour tone, Ernst could not help but secretly laugh.
"What are you laughing at? I'm asking you a question!"
"All right, I more or less understand what you mean, Father. You just want to build a landmark. Tell me what you have in mind. If it can be done, I'll definitely make it happen."
For Ernst, Constantin being happy was all that mattered. Spending a little money did not matter. Did Ernst