"You probably didn't just want to chat with my wife and me about the London weather. Tell me, what did you see in United States?" Shek Chi-yik said to Song Tianyao in a slightly hoarse and deep voice after his wife had chatted with Song Tianyao about some unimportant topics for a while.
Song Tianyao smiled at Shek Chi-yik, "I've done my homework for two months and discovered a problem. If I want to do some legal small business, even though Hong Kong is China territory and is now a Britain colony, I have to follow United States rules. To be honest, when I discovered this problem, Director Shi, my first thought was that your current position seems a bit uncomfortable."
"The rule in United States is that if you want to make money from United States, you must also make money from United States, and no less than what you make." Shek Chi-yik nodded in agreement. "Because the whole world can't ignore United States now, just like many years ago, the whole world couldn't ignore the British Empire."
Song Tianyao took out a small notebook from his pocket and handed it to Shek Chi-yik: "These are just some thoughts of mine. I hope Director Shi can give me some advice. I don't believe that benefits should be enjoyed by one person alone. Selfish people have no friends. He needs to have a sense of social responsibility and strive to benefit more people, such as helping those who don't know what to do because their businesses are not doing well."
"Your words remind me of something from the past. The last time someone said something similar to me was to a politician in London. His speech made me drowsy," Shek Chi-yik teased Song Tianyao, taking the notebook and opening it. Inside were beautiful Chinese characters written by Song Tianyao with a fountain pen, but for Shek Chi-yik, China expert, reading Chinese characters was not difficult at all.
The first sentence that caught his eye made Shek Chi-yik's pupils shrink slightly:
"Under the double blow of the Embargo Order and the San Francisco Treaty with Japan, where will Hong Kong's manufacturing industry go from here?"
Is this a question a young person who claims they only want to run a legitimate small business should be considering? Shouldn't someone at least the head of an industry association have the authority and the inclination to write about this kind of thing?
Chapter 211 Eating Roast Goose
All afternoon, Scribe Hui was busy preparing vegetables and grains to be delivered to the families of the various military camps the next day. He was now the designated grain and vegetable supplier for thirteen military camps in Hong Kong, Kowloon New Territories. Of course, it was just a fancy title. Scribe Hui himself was very clear about the reality. He was just a laborer foreman earning a little hardship and transportation fees. To put it bluntly, he was still doing the same old job as a patrolman. The only difference was that the goods had all been changed to grains and vegetables, and the customers were no longer people from the remote Mainland countryside, but Britain soldiers.
Those big-nosed quartermasters might call him Boss Gao, but most of the time, he preferred to be called Scribe Hui or Brother Hui.
He instructed the recruited laborers to look after the vegetables and grains prepared in the warehouse, and left someone to keep watch there that night. The Scribe Hui, then personally went into the warehouse to check the inventory against the list and confirm everything was correct before leaving. He casually called out, "Lame-Legged Dragon, let's go back to Sister Fen's for dinner."
He called out twice but received no response. Usually, when he heard that they were going back for dinner, Nine-Tattooed Dragon was always the first to jump out. A laborer wiping down the truck said to the Scribe Hui, "Brother Hui, we haven't seen Brother Long all afternoon."
"Where did he go? When did he leave?" the Scribe Hui asked the laborer.
The laborer shook his head. "I don't know. After delivering the vegetables and having lunch today, I haven't seen Brother Long since."
"That bastard must have gone fishing for eels again, right?" Scribe Hui muttered to himself, not really taking it to heart.
Because Nine-Tattooed Dragon has a very eccentric personality, and there have been times before when he would go fishing and shrimp catching after everyone else had finished their work and was resting, Scribe Hui thought that today he probably took advantage of the fact that he didn't need to deliver goods in the afternoon, so he went fishing for eels. He should have finished fishing and finished work by now, and be waiting for Master Hui to have dinner at Sister Fen's house.
So, Scribe Hui, simply mounted his newly acquired vehicle, a Japan- made Spring Cherry Brand bicycle, and headed towards Wu's General Store on Kowloon Jordan Road Kowloon.
He, the owner of Tianming Grain and Vegetable Supply Company, now has six or seven workers under him and two rented trucks. But the only time he ever spent money on himself was to buy this bicycle, mainly to make it easier for him to ride to various vegetable farmers in the countryside to order vegetables.
When passing a braised food shop, Scribe Hui stopped his car and bought two pig's trotters and a serving of braised beef. He hung them on the handlebars of his bicycle and wobbled back to the grocery store.
"Lame-Legged Dragon, you lazy bum, did you slack off again and go fishing for eels!" Carrying cooked food into the grocery store, before even seeing anyone, the Scribe Hui had already started cursing.
He now insults Nine-Tattooed Dragon with the same ease as Song Tianyao insults him.
"Brother Hui is back? Are you looking for Ah Long?" Sister Fen had just come downstairs with the freshly cooked dinner and placed it on the dining table in the back room of the grocery store. She asked Scribe Hui, "Shouldn't Ah Long have come back to have dinner with you?"
Scribe Hui frowned and placed the braised food on the table. "This guy hasn't been seen all afternoon. I thought he went fishing for eels to slack off again. He should have come back a long time ago. It's almost night now. Where could he have gone? He must have been fishing..."
As he spoke, Scribe Hui walked to the single bed where Nine-Tattooed Dragon usually slept, squatted down and glanced under the bed. The fishing gear that Nine-Tattooed Dragon used in his spare time was still lying under the bed. He didn't say anything more.
Lifting the blankets and pillows at the head of the bed, Scribe Hui was stunned. Under the bed should have been the pocket money he gave to Nine-Tattooed Dragon. Every day, Scribe Hui would give Nine-Tattooed Dragon three to five yuan in change so he could keep it to buy cigarettes, alcohol, or late-night snacks. However, Nine-Tattooed Dragon would even smoke expired cigarettes from the British Army warehouse, which belonged to the Japan. He also ate with Scribe Hui all the time and rarely spent money. He would usually just leave the money under the bed. After saving it up for so long, it had accumulated to eighty or ninety yuan.
"Where did he go? Did he really take the money to eat roast goose?" Scribe Hui stood by the bedside, trying hard to recall his meeting with Nine-Tattooed Dragon today. He didn't seem to find anything unusual about the other party. At lunchtime, that bastard ate half a pot of rice as usual. Apart from saying he wanted to eat roast goose while eating, he didn't have the expression or words one would expect when leaving without saying goodbye.