Cao Bin jumped in fright. "Chen Fan, you want to seize Old Knife Handle's operation?"
Chen Fan laughed heartily. After a long moment, his expression hardened. "Second Brother, you've spent half your life in Shanghai. Haven't you learned one thing?"
"In all of Shanghai, what wasn't taken by force?"
Cao Bin's face instantly flushed at those words. "Chen Fan, you're right."
"What do you want to do?"
Chen Fan said gravely, "Find me a dog. I want to know exactly what cards Old Knife Handle holds."
The dogs Chen Fan spoke of were actually people who gathered information in Shanghai's underworld.
In Hong Kong Island's cops-and-robbers films, such people were called informants, fringe figures, or turncoats, but back then, they were all called dogs.
They made a living buying and selling information, but often, they did not just sell information about the other side; they might sell information about the buyer at any moment, too.
Some people said they had a dog's disposition: give them money, and they would turn on you without warning.
Over time, their reputation grew worse and worse. Everyone looked down on them, yet had to rely on them, so these people came to be called dogs...
"All right, I'll handle it," Cao Bin readily agreed.
"Good. Remember to find someone whose nose works better than his ears." Chen Fan stood and patted Cao Bin's shoulder, cautioning him, "Second Brother, be very careful with Old Knife Handle."
"He's more ruthless than we think. Never mind how he spends all day holed up in Shengping Theatre. When it comes to news worth knowing, he knows no less than we do."
Cao Bin patted the back of Chen Fan's hand. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing..."
Shengping Theatre, Hongkou, Shanghai...
When Jin Xiangyu returned to Shengping Theatre, the evening performance had just ended.
The audience downstairs had mostly dispersed. A few remaining ladies and young misses were being helped toward the exit by their maids.
The number of rickshaws parked outside was visibly dwindling...
Jin Xiangyu did not linger at the main entrance. She went through a side door and climbed the narrow stairs to the room on the second floor.
Someone was still waiting for her there...
"All settled?" Old Knife Handle's voice was languid and deep, as though rising from the very bottom of his throat.
"Of course." Jin Xiangyu casually took off her shawl, tossed it onto the other end of the sofa, and sank into the spring cushions.
She turned her head and said slowly, "Chen Fan accepted the deposit. His condition is that he gets the final say on how things are handled at the docks."
"Sixth Master, you never told me he was so difficult."
"Difficult people are useful." Old Knife Handle leaned back a little, gently rolling the two walnuts in his palm. "If he'd agreed without asking a single question, I would have been worried instead."
Jin Xiangyu turned to look at him. "So now you're reassured?"
Old Knife Handle chuckled and asked her in return, "What about you? Did you notice anything while talking to him?"
Jin Xiangyu said slowly, "Plenty. He was clearly on his guard against me. Every answer he gave was watertight."
"Someone like that is either a born businessman or an even better actor than we are."
"You have a keen eye indeed, Miss Jin." Old Knife Handle smiled. "He certainly is a better actor than we are."
"But what actors fear most isn't an audience that doesn't believe them. It's an audience that believes them too much."
"You think he's difficult now. Once you actually see him work, you'll understand why I chose him."
Jin Xiangyu smiled along with him, then abruptly changed the subject. "Sixth Master, just how are you planning to handle this shipment?"
Old Knife Handle paused, slightly taken aback. The hand rolling the walnuts suddenly stopped.
"What are you worried about, Miss Jin?"
Jin Xiangyu said evenly, "Sixth Master, spending money doesn't pain me."
"Three thousand or five thousand, money spent can naturally be earned back."
"What worries me now is how you're going to deal with this shipment."
"Right now, the only places in Shanghai where goods can be moved quickly are the French Concession and the International Settlement, but neither is our territory."
"If you plan to move it through the Japanese Concession, paying people off is the least of our worries. The Japanese have ravenous ambitions. I'm afraid their Tokkō will seize the shipment along with everything else."
"Then the losses would outweigh the gains. So you have to give me something definite. What exactly are your plans for this shipment?"
Old Knife Handle fell silent for a moment, then suddenly asked out of nowhere, "Miss Jin, do you know how Chen Fan's father died?"
Jin Xiangyu shook her head. "You've never mentioned it. Why? Is there a problem?"
Old Knife Handle said gravely, "We've been doing business with the tusi's side for several years."
"When we first opened up that channel, I struggled over how to make money from it."
"In times like these, basin goods hold their value better than gold, but only if you can sell them."
"Later, I thought of a way. First, I established a connection in the French Concession."
"Then I had Chen Zhongming go along to sell the goods."
"For every crate he sold in the French Concession, we secretly sold ten."
"I have to say, basin goods were better than the British stuff. Plenty of people went there after hearing about them."
"In the end, the truth couldn't be kept under wraps. We had no choice but to push Chen Zhongming out to take the fall."
"He was stubborn and loyal. He kept believing that his own sales had encroached on some big shot's interests."
"He never breathed a single word."
Jin Xiangyu fell silent for a moment, then asked, "Sixth Master, what does this have to do with our current shipment?"
"Of course it has something to do with it." Old Knife Handle picked up his teacup and took a sip to moisten his throat.
"All these years, that connection of mine has remained intact. We've simply become more discreet."
"This time, if the tusi's side didn't need money to buy arms, they wouldn't have offered so much stock at once for us to take."
"We have no choice. We can only repeat what we did back then."
Jin Xiangyu still did not quite understand.
Old Knife Handle had no desire to keep speaking in riddles, either. "One shipload, split between two docks. We'll have Zhang Xiaolin's men catch Chen Fan's side."
"Only when things blow up and draw all of Zhang Xiaolin's men over there can our goods be unloaded smoothly."
"I just don't know whether that boy Chen Fan can escape this calamity."
Jin Xiangyu was silent for a moment, then her expression suddenly changed drastically. "That won't do! If Chen Fan says the shipment is mine, how am I supposed to explain that to Zhang Xiaolin?"