New grudges and old hatreds

Looking at Chen Fan's helpless expression, Fujiwara could not help remembering the times she had spent with Kyōichi.

Whenever she got petulant, Kyōichi had worn that same helpless, troubled look.

Fujiwara immediately turned away to hide her emotions, but when she reached the door, her heart softened anyway.

She looked back and said out of nowhere, "Take good care of yourself. Don't catch a cold..."

Chen Fan froze for a moment, not knowing why Fujiwara would say that, but she gave him no chance to ask. She pushed the door open and walked out.

Wusong Road, Shanghai...

It was almost ten by the time Chen Fan returned to the trading company. The shop was still bustling, and with the Lantern Festival approaching, there were considerably more customers buying gifts than usual.

After leaving a few instructions with the shop manager, Chen Fan went upstairs, yawning.

Only his youth and stamina allowed him to work after a whole night of exertion and just two or three hours of sleep.

With the body he had possessed in his previous life, he would have collapsed long ago.

He had barely sat down when Long Wu pushed the door open and came in again.

"Boss, someone's here to see you. He looks like he might be from Japan, but he won't give his name."

Chen Fan frowned. "I'll go take a look..."

As soon as he went downstairs, Chen Fan was somewhat surprised. The man standing at the entrance was none other than Yamada Ryosuke.

"Yamada-kun, what brings you here?"

Yamada stepped closer. "Chen-san, is there somewhere quiet where we can talk?"

"Yes, of course. Yamada-kun, upstairs, please..." Chen Fan hurried ahead to lead Yamada Ryosuke into his office.

Long Wu served them the green tea she had brewed, then went out and closed the door behind her.

Holding his green tea, Yamada looked around and offered a compliment. "Chen-san, this is a nice place you have."

Chen Fan waved a hand. "Yamada-kun, you came over so early because...?"

"Nothing much." Yamada took a sip of tea and set down his cup. "You went to quite some expense for us yesterday, Chen-san."

"About Section Chief Fujiwara..."

How could Chen Fan dare say he had taken her to a hotel room? That would spell trouble. He merely brushed it off by saying he had taken her home.

Yamada looked at his expression, disbelief written all over his face.

Still, he did not dare pry. As long as Fujiwara was safe, that was enough. Otherwise, none of them could escape responsibility.

"Chen-san, we never discussed business yesterday. I came over to talk to you about it."

"How much stock can you take right now?"

"I want the truth..."

Chen Fan considered for a moment. "Yamada-kun, let's leave that aside for now. I've run into a little trouble recently, and it hasn't been resolved yet."

"Could I ask for something first?"

Yamada raised a hand. "Go ahead, Chen-san..."

Chen Fan said slowly, "I need a shipment of weapons. Long guns and heavy firepower, preferably assembled within twenty-four hours."

"Weapons, and heavy firepower at that." At those words, the fine lines at the corners of Yamada's eyes tightened slightly.

He looked at Chen Fan with something between a smile and a smirk. "Within twenty-four hours? Chen-san, do you think this is like buying radishes at the market?"

Chen Fan gave a bitter smile. "Of course I know it isn't buying radishes. I can afford to wait, but other people may not give me the time to."

"I'll be blunt. I've offended some people. They haven't acted yet because they haven't finished looking into our background."

"But that won't take much longer. They might act tomorrow, or even tonight."

"Yamada-kun, I need the means to protect myself..."

Yamada paused. "What could be so serious?"

"Chen-san, you're a businessman. Businessmen are concerned with profit. If money can resolve this, it's best not to let it escalate."

Chen Fan nodded. "Yamada-kun, I understand that perfectly well. The problem is, our opponent isn't an ordinary businessman."

"In other people's eyes, I-we may not be qualified to speak to him as equals."

"He won't give us a chance to sit down and talk, either. He'll think crushing us is easier than negotiating with us, and makes him look more powerful."

"Yamada-kun, I hope you understand that I'm personally very fond of peace."

"But as things stand, even if I don't consider myself, I still have a group of brothers under me who need to eat."

"I can't make them gamble along with me."

"You have a point..."

"Here's what we'll do. I'll see Yoshino this afternoon." Yamada stood as he spoke. "I'll do my best to put a shipment together for you today. Give me an address, and I'll have the goods delivered."

"Sorry for the trouble, Yamada-kun." Chen Fan hurriedly stood and bowed slightly to him.

If the shipment really could be delivered to the warehouse, Rui Qingrong would be in for some terrible luck.

"We're all in the same boat, so helping each other is only right. But friendship is friendship, and business is business."

"As for the price..."

Chen Fan quickly said, "We'll settle at market prices, in silver dollars as before, paid in full at once."

Yamada gave him a smile that said he knew how things worked. "Good. Wait for my news..."

With that, Yamada turned and left...

Chen Fan had Long Wu see him downstairs. Watching Yamada's retreating figure, he silently prayed that he still had time...

The Good Fortune Opium Den, French Concession.

The den was tucked deep inside an alley called Ji'an Lane behind Avenue Joffre. A small square lantern with peeling green paint hung outside its entrance, with the character for "fortune" painted on it in red.

Those who knew the ropes only had to reach the mouth of the alley and see that lantern to know whom to look for.

Despite being called an opium den, the Good Fortune Opium Den did not sell shredded tobacco.

This was Rui Qingrong's most trusted private hideout in the French Concession. He handled many matters here that were inconvenient to deal with in restaurants or mansions.

Rui Qingrong sat in the innermost office.

It was called an office, but a secret room would have been a more accurate description.

Rui Qingrong had set this room aside especially, and quite a few men stood guard outside.

As the saying went, the longer you spent in the jianghu, the more cautious you became.

Rui Qingrong was no longer the competitive young thug who would fight someone on impulse.

He now controlled more than a dozen opium dens and was also the largest supplier in the French Concession.

He was looking after everything Boss Du had left behind, and Boss Zhang would not go so far as to openly strike at one of his own.

The door creaked open, and a tall, thin figure walked in.

The newcomer was his trusted aide, Chang Jiu. Whether that was his name or a nickname was unclear; everyone simply called him that.

Over time, no one cared about his name anymore. They all called him Master Jiu or Old Jiu.

"Well? Has Gao Laoquan sent any news?" Rui Qingrong asked mildly.

Chang Jiu took out an oil-paper packet and pushed it in front of Rui Qingrong.

"Some. Gao Laoquan said there's definitely something fishy about the rumor that Old Knife Handle and Jin Xiangyu ran away together."

Rui Qingrong was not surprised in the slightest. Exhaling a mouthful of smoke, he said, "That goes without saying. A theater owner running away with a performer?"

"If there's nothing shady about that, they can twist my head off and kick it around like a ball."

"Get to the point."

Chang Jiu said, "The point is this young man called Chen Fan."

"Old Knife Handle had him deliver a shipment to Dongjiadu, but the shipment disappeared. Immediately afterward, Old Knife Handle disappeared too."

"And that shipment still hasn't surfaced on the Shanghai market. Even Gao Laoquan hasn't heard a whisper of it."

"He suspects it was very likely stolen by another bunch of crooks."

"Chen Fan, Chen Fan?" Rui Qingrong repeated under his breath, then suddenly asked, "Was his father called Chen Zhongming?"