One of his men hesitated, "Headless Bro, are we really going to follow the Thailand guy even though he hasn't committed a crime?"
"Aren't Thailand human? Don't they need to work or earn a living? Do they just spend their days drinking tea and chatting in opium dens? Aren't they otherworldly? If I say there's a problem, then there's definitely a problem. My eyes don't lie," Lam Kong said with certainty.
Another subordinate asked curiously, "Headless Brother, how did you know?"
"Damn it, some handsome Thailand guy was fighting me for a woman at the dance hall... I always have to make things difficult for him." Lam Kong said to his men.
Chapter 466
As Michael Sandberg flipped through the latest issue of the Far Eastern Economic Review, which his secretary had just brought to him, the afternoon sun streaming in through the window made him feel languid. If only there were a lawn, a hammock, and a can of beer, instead of just the office chair in front of him and the same old coffee, that would be perfect.
Two months ago, he was preparing for his exile to Sabah Province in the Federation of Malaya. But now, he could sit comfortably in his office at the HSBC headquarters, making time to read English magazines instead of dealing with various reports. Although he wouldn't admit it, Shen Bi felt that Song Tianyao had done something in the process.
Thinking of that name, Michael Sandberg couldn't help but smile. He'd heard the guy had gone to London Britain, and wouldn't be back for a long time. And just as he left Hong Kong, the China Shipping Company in Hong Kong ran into trouble. This was exactly what the Britain wanted. During the embargo, that damned Hong Kong colony couldn't transport anything, while China person ships, flying all sorts of flags, sailed the oceans, carrying not only banknotes but also gold. Now they were having their own conflict, leaving the Britain with no reason to mediate. They were better off just arguing. Michael Sandberg didn't care; if they couldn't repay their loans, he'd just seize their cargo ships. The China person rarely defaulted on their debts.
"Sir, this is a call from Britain from Mr. Song Tianyao." The secretary knocked gently on the door, poked her head in from outside, and spoke to Michael Sandberg, who was lying on the floor with a magazine open, but seemed to be dozing off from his reverie.
Michael Sandberg smiled at his secretary, then picked up the phone on the table. "How's the night in London, Song? It should be eight o'clock in London now, right?"
"London at night? The smog in London is so bad that you can't even see if someone is standing across from you with a magnifying glass. Luckily, there's a city in Britain called Glasgow where I can breathe some fresh air," Song Tianyao said with a smile on the other end of the phone.
Michael Sandberg said curiously, "You went to Glasgow? Shouldn't you have been in London making some friends? There aren't any important people in Glasgow that you're looking to meet, Song."
"Glasgow may not have any big shots, but it has ships; the docks are full of cargo ships," Song Tianyao said after a pause.
Michael Sandberg fell silent for a dozen seconds before speaking with some suspicion, "I hope it's not what I suspect. You went to Britain and kept your eyes on Hong Kong? The Britain shipping companies are just watching their infighting without any intention of getting involved. You know what's going to happen, right? Your assets aren't enough for me to talk to Mr. Turner about a loan. Song, you need to learn to stop. I'm sure your appetite will be ruined by your own ambition. I'm only speaking up because we're friends."
"I haven't even said anything yet, and you already know what I'm going to do?" Song Tianyao laughed. His voice sounded somewhat ethereal, as if he were standing in the wind or on the street. The sounds coming from the phone receiver were a bit noisy.
Michael Sandberg sighed, "Besides wanting to get a loan, I don't know what else you want from me."
"Before I called you again, I already called my friend in Hong Kong. So, out of respect for my friend, I'll prepare a batch of loans. There will be suitable people with suitable assets to improve your performance," Song Tianyao said. "By the way, it's not just loans. Listen carefully~"
With a loud "boom!"
The loud noise startled Michael Sandberg: "What are you doing? Is this the sound of cannons from some outdoor party?"
"Happy Thursday afternoon, my friend." Song Tianyao hung up the phone and looked out the hotel window at the Whistle Restaurant across the street. Just now, with a loud explosion, the entire Whistle Restaurant was blown to pieces.
"The security in developed countries is fantastic, second only to Macau." Song Tianyao looked at the scene outside, then turned back to the Asian men from the Civil and Martial Association: "There's nothing I need you to do for now, thank you. My fiancée will go to the police station to file a report. I suggest you and your men wash your hands and feet thoroughly."
"Understood, Mr. Song."
Yu Zhenzhong had originally planned to leave Hong Kong for a vacation in Europe with his wife, as instructed by his father. He was slightly dissatisfied with his father, Yu Zhenzhong Yu Shiting, feeling that his father was getting old and less decisive than when he was young. Now, it was clearly the Shanghai shipping merchants causing trouble. If they wanted to make money peacefully, they should simply deal with that restless fool Zeng Chunsheng. However, his father was still hesitating. After Zeng Chunsheng Awakening from a Dream the initiative to come and plead for him, his father still seemed to have no action.
But whatever, his father forbade him to get involved in this matter, and he was too lazy to touch it anyway. He might as well go to Europe to see how the shipping business was doing and do some research.
He instructed his servants and driver to help carry the suitcase into the car. A Ford 49 slowly drove up from the opposite direction and coincidentally blocked his car not far in front. A young man with medium-length hair got out of the car. Although he was wearing a suit, he was not wearing a tie. The hem of his white shirt was exposed under the suit jacket, and the top two buttons of his collar were undone. He leaned against the hood of the Ford, lit a cigarette, and then looked up and smiled at him.
"Tell him not to block the way." Yu Zhenzhong always kept his distance from people who didn't seem to be business people. He gave his driver this instruction and then prepared to turn around and go back to check on his wife.
"Mr. Yu," the young man said to Yu Zhenzhong, "Can we chat for a bit?"
Yu Zhenzhong's driver had already approached and said politely but with a hint of anger, "Friend, could you please move your car?"