After seeing Jin Xiangyu off, Chen Fan did not stay long at the trading company.
He gave Long Wu a few instructions, telling her to close the window halfway and sit in the office. Most importantly, she was to turn the chair around from time to time.
Long Wu was from Shandong, tall and slender, with her hair cropped short like a man's. From behind, she looked no different from a man.
In those days, anyone keeping watch had no binoculars or surveillance equipment to use. They could only rely on their eyes.
But eyes could deceive...
Once everything was arranged, Chen Fan slipped carefully out the back door of the Chen Trading Company.
He did not leave immediately. Instead, he stood for half a minute in a narrow lane behind Wusong Road. Only after making sure no one was around did he stride onto North Sichuan Road, hail a ride, and head straight for Shiliupu.
This was also part of his instinct as a secret agent. Old Knife Handle was his enemy now.
By the time he reached Shiliupu Wharf, it was almost dark.
It was still the Spring Festival holiday. As soon as the sun sank in the west, the whole city seemed to have had a ladle of cold water poured over its head, its colors rapidly dimming.
The wharf had thinned out. Laborers headed toward their sheds in twos and threes, and a few who knew Cao Bin's men nodded to Chen Fan.
After all, Chen Fan had visited often lately, and the laborers had come to recognize his face.
Chen Fan circled behind the little accounts office where Cao Bin usually stayed, then turned sideways beside a battered iron gate and slipped into the narrow passage.
Cao Bin was squatting on the back steps, wolfing down a bowl of rice mixed with lard.
When he saw Chen Fan emerge from the darkness, he froze for a moment, his chopsticks hovering by his mouth.
"Something happen?" Cao Bin set his bowl aside and stood up.
"Let's talk inside." Chen Fan tipped his chin toward the room.
The two went inside, one after the other.
The accounts office was even smaller than the workers' sheds, with an old plank table, two chairs, and a few yellowing shipping schedules pasted on the wall.
Cao Bin pushed the door shut and lit the kerosene lamp.
Chen Fan lit a cigarette and took two drags before telling him about Jin Xiangyu's visit.
He recounted how she had approached him, how she had a shipment to move from Shiliupu through Dongjiadu and into a warehouse in Zhuhang Lane, and how she had ultimately offered him a profit of five thousand silver dollars.
At first, Cao Bin interrupted with a couple of questions. Later, he fell silent, his brow drawing tighter and tighter.
When Chen Fan finished, the room went quiet. Cao Bin took a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit it too...
"You suspect this shipment is dirty."
Chen Fan shook his head. "If it were clean, would she need to offer five thousand silver dollars? It's not like she has money to burn."
"Second Brother, do you remember what I told you? There's something wrong with Old Knife Handle."
Cao Bin's expression darkened slightly. "You mean this shipment is meant to be used against you?"
Chen Fan took a deep drag, tossed his cigarette butt onto the floor, and ground it out hard.
"Jin Xiangyu is a woman, and one willing to go all out. A woman like that knows exactly how much her body is worth."
"But she chose to give up what she does best and use money to solve the problem instead."
"That leaves only one possibility. Someone has kept a tight lid on the information."
"And whoever can do that isn't Jin Xiangyu."
"To put it crudely, she's just a whore. Her standing isn't worth that much."
Cao Bin nodded slowly. The men who worked Shiliupu Wharf were all rough sorts. They might be interested in Jin Xiangyu's body, but they certainly would not be interested in her art.
In their eyes, Jin Xiangyu was an opera performer. No matter how beautifully she could sing, her singing was worth less than her face.
Chen Fan paused, then asked, "Second Brother, you've been at Shiliupu Wharf for so many years. Who do you think could pull this off?"
Almost without thinking, Cao Bin blurted out, "The Green Gang."
"Then that settles it." Chen Fan finally stated his conclusion.
"Second Brother, the whole French Concession is Green Gang territory, and the Green Gang is behind Shiliupu Wharf too."
"Only someone from the Green Gang could keep such a tight lid on the information."
"If we connect this with my father suddenly being caught red-handed by Ye Zhuoshan three years ago..."
Realization dawned on Cao Bin. "You mean there was a mole in the Green Gang back then."
"Third Uncle was selling smuggled goods in the French Concession because someone behind the scenes had tacitly allowed it."
Chen Fan nodded. "That's right. I've thought about it for a long time, and that's the most likely explanation."
"Second Brother, you know what my father was like. He'd been trading solo for over a decade. He was as slippery as an eel. No one could get anything on him."
"But a few years ago, he helped Old Knife Handle sell a few crates of smuggled goods and somehow got caught red-handed."
"You could call that an accident, but it couldn't have been such a coincidence."
"With a few crates moving through the French Concession, it would have taken them time to trace the source."
"Yet they struck with perfect accuracy and caught him with the goods."
"I always suspected something was fishy, but I had no proof."
"Now it looks like someone sold my father out."
"You're saying Old Knife Handle was the one who sold Third Uncle out?" Cao Bin flew into a rage. "Then what are we waiting for, Chen Fan? I'll take some men with you right now and kill Liu Laoliu."
"That bastard bit the hand that fed him. To think he'd scheme against my Third Uncle!"
"All right, all right, Second Brother. Don't be so rash. Sit down and hear me out."
Rash? Cao Bin was visibly taken aback. Back then, who was it who had heard Cao Youshan was in trouble, dragged Huo Yuanlong along, and stormed into Boss Du's establishment to get him out?
Now he's calling me rash? Was I being rash?
"Chen Fan, what exactly have you been through these past two years? You used to believe your fists were all the reason you needed. Now you seem full of schemes."
Chen Fan was silent for a moment before saying slowly, "That's because I know you can't keep punching forever."
"Before my father died, he warned me not to rely too much on my fists, and to use my head when something happened."
"Second Brother, do you know why Old Knife Hilt has managed to stay standing in Shanghai all these years?"
Cao Bin gave a light snort. "Of course I know. He used to work in opera as a clown-role performer."
"Later, he opened a theater and asked senior figures in the opera world to invite performers from the four surrounding provinces to Shanghai."
"He took advantage of their constant travels to smuggle goods along the waterways into the surrounding provinces."
"Zhejiang, Shanghai, Jiangsu, Fujian, Guangdong, Anhui, Guangxi-his goods reach all those places."
"Exactly." Chen Fan chuckled. "He's running a huge operation."
"If there aren't a thousand people wishing him dead every day, there are at least eight hundred."
"If we really storm in and kill him, what do we gain?"
"In the end, wouldn't we just be handing the benefits to someone else?"
Something stirred in Cao Bin as he listened. "Chen Fan, don't tell me you're..."
Chen Fan nodded without any attempt to hide it. "That's right. I want everything he has."
"Second Brother, when you're trying to make a living in times like these, whether you're the buyer or the seller, you're still just a player at the table. And every player faces risks."
"If we want to make money without scares or risks, there's only one way."
"We become the house together..."