"Ah." Brother Bao scratched his head sheepishly.
Chen Fan had put it tactfully, but it was the truth.
Those brothers of his had no way with words. Spitting was more their thing.
Of course, a burly man standing six foot three scratching his head so helplessly was certainly a sight that defied comment.
Chen Fan stepped forward and patted his shoulder. "Find somewhere to settle down. I've been looking at places lately."
"Once I find somewhere, you'll be the first to know. Just wait without worrying."
Brother Bao said gratefully, "Thank you, Boss Chen. I'll go tell them right away."
Perhaps Brother Bao's arrival had brought Chen Fan good luck.
The recruitment that had been going poorly suddenly became much smoother.
In just a few days, he recruited ten shop assistants, six women and four men.
Then, through Cao Bin's introduction, he hired a Shanghai local who had previously worked as a comprador for a French trading company to serve as manager.
The accountant was an even greater coincidence. This woman, named Wang Ping, had previously been an accountant at the Sincere Department Store.
While Chen Fan was strolling along Wusong Road, she saw the Chen Trading Company's red recruitment notice and approached to inquire herself.
After that, Wang Ping poached several experienced salespeople from her department store.
After interviewing them, Chen Fan divided them into three groups, with the first specializing in promoting luxury goods.
The second would focus on selling scarce supplies, while the third would handle bulk goods.
The sales team leader position remained undecided for now. He needed to choose someone suitable based on these salespeople's performance.
With staff in place, the trading company's opening went on the agenda, and there was soon news of the warehouse he had asked Cao Bin to find.
Although Cao Bin operated around Shiliupu Wharf, people in his line of work still had ways of finding a dockside warehouse.
Because Chen Fan's requirements were high, it took him some time to find a three-thousand-square-meter warehouse near Huishan Wharf.
The next day, at Huishan Wharf in Yangshupu District.
This wharf was entirely controlled by the Japanese military and was also an important port for naval and army supplies.
One kilometer from Huishan Wharf, an old Austin carrying Chen Fan, Brother Bao, and the others stopped outside the warehouse.
The warehouse gates were locked, so Chen Fan could only wait outside. Communication was a major inconvenience in this era.
As everyone stood outside the warehouse, Chen Fan took out his cigarettes and passed them around.
The group smoked, talking and laughing.
On the main road before them, a convoy sped past, kicking up a cloud of dust that soon dispersed.
Someone sharp-eyed had already recognized the vehicles as belonging to the Tokkō.
With them rushing along like that, could they be off to arrest someone again?
At the water's edge, Huishan Wharf.
The convoy barreled all the way through to the waterfront and stopped in a row.
The door of the first car opened. Fujita got out of the back seat, looked at the vessels before him, and asked the man beside him, "Yoshikawa, what time is it?"
"When will the ship arrive?"
Yoshikawa replied respectfully, "Sir, it is two twenty. The Sensan Maru will arrive in ten minutes."
"Ten minutes. An aristocrat from Northeast China. Who knows whether she'll bring trouble or assistance?"
Yoshikawa said quietly, "You don't trust Miss Fujiwara, sir?"
Fujita frowned. "Women are inherently untrustworthy. Their greatest duty is to bear descendants for the men of the empire. How am I supposed to trust a miss in her thirties who isn't even married?"
"She doesn't even understand her own duties, yet she wants to meddle in the war. Ridiculous. Hmph..."
Alarmed, Yoshikawa moved to cover Fujita's mouth. "Sir, please mind your words. Her status is no ordinary one. If..."
"All right, all right, I know what I'm saying." Fujita waved impatiently. "We're all among our own here. What's wrong with a little casual talk?"
As they spoke, a huge ship appeared on the horizon before everyone's eyes.
"She's here." Fujita Susumu drew a breath. Despite saying he did not care, he instinctively felt the top button of his uniform again to make sure it had not come undone.
The Sensan Maru did not sound its whistle as it docked.
The hull slowly settled against the wharf's wooden fenders, and several Japanese soldiers deftly looped the mooring lines over the bollards.
The gangway was then lowered. The instant the cabin door opened, Fujita Susumu straightened his back.
This was no ordinary passenger liner, and there were no passengers to speak of. After the gangway came down, two young figures in black suits appeared before everyone.
Each wore a medal on his lapel, bearing a black dragon.
Clearly, these two were members of the Northeast China Black Dragon Society.
They walked to either side of the gangway and stood facing outward.
A moment later, another figure appeared in the cabin doorway.
It was a woman dressed in a white kimono, its fabric stirring gently in the river breeze.
Unlike the Japanese women seen everywhere in Hongkou, the kimono she wore was made of fine Nishijin fabric. Its white was not dazzling, but carried an extremely faint pearlescent sheen.
Half-open chrysanthemums were embroidered in silver thread along the collar and cuffs. A closer look revealed tiny dewdrops hidden among the petals...
This was no ordinary weaving technique. In fact, those details had been worked in extremely fine silver thread using different stitches. As the light trembled, the silver threads in the garment shimmered back and forth.
From a distance, it looked as though dew was rolling among the flowers.
The things nobles used concealed extravagant details in every movement.
Her hair was arranged in a traditional style, glossy black and smooth, without any unnecessary ornaments, secured only by a white jade hairpin...
Though the hairpin was simple in design, no one would overlook its value.
Of course, more eye-catching than her clothing and hairpin were her figure and looks.
Many people, at first sight of her, looked not at her face but were instead drawn to the swelling curves of her chest.
After all, women who could walk around carrying two hundred million in assets were rare. Logically, with such a voluptuous figure, her face should have been rather full as well.
Yet the reality was precisely the opposite. This woman with such an impressive figure had a palm-sized face, her features not only exquisite but touched with a coolness rarely seen in ordinary women.
She was just like the pristine snow of early spring falling on a distant mountaintop, giving anyone who looked at her a sense of chill.
"Section Chief Fujiwara, it's a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to your guidance..." Fujita stepped forward and bowed first.
There were few women who could make a colonel adopt such a humble attitude, but the woman before him was unquestionably qualified.
Because she was Fujiwara Kyoka.
A daughter of the Fujiwara Clan, a confidante of Empress Kōjun, senior assistant to the empress's household, an honorary army colonel personally appointed by the emperor, and the newly appointed chief of the Shanghai Tokkō's Cipher Section.
Fujiwara glanced at Fujita Susumu and said softly, "Sir, I heard aboard the ship that Shanghai's telecommunications environment has been rather complicated lately."
"So the first thing I must trouble you with upon arriving is to give me a detailed account of the Cipher Section's current situation."
There was something indescribable about her voice. Her standard Tokyo accent carried the particular elegance of the imperial family.
Fujita instinctively took a step back. "Of course, Section Chief Fujiwara. Let me take you back to the Tokkō first."
"Not now. I have some private matters to attend to. I'll report in first thing tomorrow morning."
"That will be all."
With that, without waiting for him to object, Fujiwara Kyoka walked straight to the first car. The two guards behind her hurried forward, one opening the passenger door while the other opened the driver's door and politely asked the driver to get out.
The driver was at a loss. Fujita nodded to him from a distance.
The driver hurriedly stepped aside...
After getting into the car, the guard stepped on the accelerator and drove out as though he knew the way well.
The group on the wharf stared at one another, while Fujita instinctively wiped the sweat from his forehead.
The woman spoke slowly and softly, yet Fujita had been so nervous he did not know what to do.
So, was this the pressure nobles exerted on ordinary people?