Passing a dog slaughtering and meat selling stall, Gu Tiancheng quietly picked up the claw hammer that the butcher used to smash dogs' heads, rolled it up under a newspaper, and then calmly disappeared into the night outside Kowloon Walled City.
Chapter 445 A Bottle of Soda
With his worries in mind, along with the claw hammer and the 20,000 Hong Kong dollars, Gu Tiancheng had just walked out of Fo Kwong Street and turned the corner when he encountered Song Chunzhong, who was leaning against a gas lamppost, wearing Brazil, smoking a cigarette, and carrying a leather suitcase.
"Young man, trying to swallow an elephant?" Song Chunzhong suddenly asked with a grin as Gu Tiancheng walked past him.
Gu Tiancheng paused abruptly, turned to look at Song Chunzhong, and gave him a puzzled expression:
"Uncle, are you talking to me?"
Song Chunzhong gestured to his waist, the cigarette trembling with the movement of his mouth. "Left hand money, right hand knife, either a gambler or a cannibal, do you know what 'cannibal' means? It means you're planning to eat people."
Gu Tiancheng hesitated for a moment, then immediately strode away, saying, "Foolish."
"I've been eyeing Smiling-Faced Xiang's casino for a long time. I was planning to close the net today, but you ruined it by accident. You young man, you made me lose over two million Hong Kong dollars." Song Chunzhong spat out his cigarette butt, then pulled out a pack of betel nuts from his pocket and said to Gu Tiancheng, who was about to leave.
Gu Tiancheng turned around and looked at Song Chunzhong under the lamppost. Song Chunzhong's expression looked a little strange, like he was smiling but it was a forced smile. Gu Tiancheng suddenly made a move. He stretched out his right hand and covered the part of Song Chunzhong above his nose, only looking at Song Chunzhong's mouth. Song Chunzhong was chewing betel nut while grinning.
But when he moved his hand down to cover Song Chunzhong's mouth, only the upper half of Song Chunzhong's face was visible. His eyes, filled with murderous intent, were fixed on Gu Tiancheng, making Gu Tiancheng feel a chill run down his spine.
"Uncle, what's your name? Have I ever offended you?" Gu Tiancheng withdrew his hand and asked, puzzled.
Song Chunzhong chewed betel nut. "I told you, you caused me to lose over two million today. Do you know how much money that Uniformed Branch translator for the Foreign Devil received from me before he even said those words? But you shut him up."
Gu Tiancheng subconsciously touched the claw hammer wrapped in newspaper at his waist.
Song Chunzhong leaned closer to the lamp, now completely enveloped by the gaslight.
On the street, there was only Song Chunzhong under the lamplight and Gu Tiancheng in the darkness, one bright and one dark, yet neither of them could see each other's faces clearly.
"Are you planning to clean the vault yourself tonight? Take two or three hundred thousand Hong Kong dollars and get away with it?" Song Chunzhong spat out his betel nut and continued.
Gu Tiancheng remained silent, gripping the claw hammer, feeling his eyelids begin to twitch slightly involuntarily.
"Two or three hundred thousand is too little. You're worth much more than two or three hundred thousand. There's no need to take the risk. I think you're worth more than two million Hong Kong dollars. Otherwise, you wouldn't be alive now; your body would be cold by now." Song Chunzhong stepped out from under the lamppost and gave Gu Tiancheng a clear smile.
Gu Tiancheng turned around. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Want to know? You're not content to spend your whole life stuck in Gambling den as Silver Head; there are many ways," Song Chunzhong said. "I'll treat you to dinner at Lai Yuen 663."
Who exactly are you?
"Rich man, I own a Gambling den in Macau. Now that I'm old, I'm looking for someone to take care of me in my old age. I think you're quite good. Now, would you like to have a meal with me?" Song Chunzhong turned and walked out of the street corner. "Think it over, then go to 663 and find me. Tell the waiter Xu Zhen's name. Let me give you a piece of advice: the fact that you thought of cleaning the vault tonight proves that you're worth more than the money in the vault."
Watching Song Chunzhong walk away, Gu Tiancheng softly repeated the name: "Xu Zhen?"
The lobby of the Hong Kong Hotel was brightly lit and bustling with people.
Waiters in black vests moved nimbly through the hall carrying trays, serving various drinks to the wealthy and influential guests.
"Mr. Chu," Lei Yingdong said to Chu Xiaoxin beside the indoor fountain, "Thank you for inviting me to Oxfam's charity fundraising dinner."
Chu Xiaoxin smiled, took two glasses of whiskey from the waiter's tray, and handed one to Lei Yingdong: "I should be thanking you for coming. I already know about what A-Yao mentioned about you, and I also asked my Dad to inquire about Uncle Sheng's opinion."
Lei Yingdong accepted the whiskey from Chu Xiaoxin. When he heard the name "Uncle Sheng," his hand trembled slightly, and the whiskey swayed gently in the glass.
What did Uncle Sheng say?
"Uncle Sheng said he'd treat you to soda tonight." Chu Xiaoxin patted Lei Yingdong's arm, then, seeing more people arriving, said, "I'll entertain the others first."
Lei Yingdong stood by the fountain, holding a glass of whiskey, lost in thought.
The Uncle Sheng mentioned by Chu Xiaoxin is Xu Pingsheng, a local shipping magnate in Hong Kong. He owns five passenger and cargo ships of more than 10,000 tons and more than ten cargo ships of 1,000 tons. He is the real local bigwig in Hong Kong's shipping industry, apart from the Britain. When the merchants from Shanghai who came to Hong Kong to do shipping business resumed their old businesses, the one who was most affected was actually Xu Pingsheng.
Lei Yingdong sank a cargo ship and naturally didn't want revenge. However, with his limited strength, he couldn't possibly even see the Shanghai Shipping Gang guild, let alone compete with them.
The Shanghai merchants who came to Hong Kong to do shipping business had complex relationships. They not only had connections with the Mainland, but also with Taiwan. The Naval mines in the Taiwan Strait, of all times, were only used on Lei Yingdong's ship. Needless to say, it was because freight rates had soared at that time, and they were worried that some local people like Lei Yingdong, who had little power but great audacity, would forcibly take long-distance routes and steal the profits of the Shanghai Shipping Gang.
Bombing Lei Yingdong's ship would scare away a large number of people who want to make a fortune on the high seas.
The banquet host had already taken to the stage and began introducing the distinguished guests who had graced the occasion with their presence. Lei Yingdong, of course, was not allowed to give a speech. He stood there with his wine glass in hand, watching Chu Xiaoxin explain the purpose of tonight's charity fundraising banquet.
Soon, the first item was brought to the stage by the host: an unidentified Western oil painting donated by Chu Xiaoxin's fiancée, Lu Peiying.