After entering, Wu Jingui stood respectfully to one side. He was a man who understood the rules.
He also knew this was Old Knife Handle's territory. Without the host's permission, he could hardly make himself too comfortable.
Old Knife Handle looked up at him and smiled amiably. "Boss Wu, please sit."
Only then did Wu Jingui sit down properly opposite Old Knife Handle.
Old Knife Handle took a small teacup from the tray and poured him some warm Lapsang Souchong.
"It's cold. Have a sip and warm yourself up."
Wu Jingui lifted the cup with both hands and took a sip. "Sixth Master, this isn't our first time doing business."
"You know what I'm like. I never do anything unless there's something in it for me."
Old Knife Handle gave a faint snort. Nothing without a profit? You were even less willing to do anything troublesome.
But Old Knife Handle did not say that to his face. He merely smiled. "Then you must have some good business for me, Boss Wu."
"I wouldn't presume, Sixth Master. I have a connection, and I wondered if you might be interested," Wu Jingui said with a fawning smile.
"Let's hear it..."
Wu Jingui drew a breath and began explaining.
"Sixth Master, I have a relative who's working for the Japanese."
"They have a shipment they want to sell. The price is very reasonable."
"What goods?"
"Sixth Master, you know the trade, so I won't hide anything. It's the shipment confiscated from the Qingpu Wang Family last month."
"Three thousand bolts altogether, at just forty percent of the price. But they want cash, and you'll have to send someone yourself to make the deal."
Only forty percent? Old Knife Handle was ecstatic, but his expression remained calm.
He silently ran through the figures. A couple of years ago, this kind of high-quality cotton cloth had cost about six or seven silver dollars a bolt. Since the war against Japan began, the prices of all kinds of supplies had risen!
At current black-market prices, an ordinary bolt of cotton cloth could fetch ten silver dollars, while cloth of this quality could fetch around fourteen. Even ordinary goods would bring in thirty thousand silver dollars for three thousand bolts.
But if it came from the Qingpu Wang Family, whose goods were a famous Shanghai brand, three thousand bolts would fetch at least forty thousand or more.
Even taking a middle figure of twelve silver dollars a bolt, at the price offered by that major from the Military Police Headquarters,
the purchase would cost around thirteen or fourteen thousand, leaving a net profit of over twenty thousand on resale.
There was clearly money to be made in this deal.
But he did not rush to commit.
"You mean you want this business, but don't dare show your own face?" Old Knife Handle regarded Wu Jingui thoughtfully.
Wu Jingui nodded repeatedly. "You see right through me, Sixth Master. You know I'm... not a brave man."
"When you do business with the Japanese, one mistake could cost you your head."
"My cousin says everything's absolutely safe on his end, but that isn't his decision to make."
"If the Japanese uncover it during an internal audit, he'll be the first to go as their interpreter. They'll follow the trail straight to me."
"I don't dare handle it myself. I'd like you to find someone reliable to approach that major and take the goods."
"You know how much profit there is in this deal. I'm not asking much. Twenty percent."
"Ten percent for my cousin, ten percent for me. That's not unreasonable, is it?"
"Twenty percent?" Old Knife Handle said leisurely. "You certainly aren't greedy, Boss Wu. Leaving eighty percent of the profit for someone else."
"But this deal can't be that simple. Shanghai has plenty of people willing to earn those twenty thousand silver dollars."
"You might as well lay out all your conditions at once."
Wu Jingui's smile stiffened, but quickly recovered. Rubbing his hands, he gave two dry chuckles. "Nothing gets past you."
"There is indeed one other small condition."
"To be safe, that major wants a new face to handle this deal."
"The goods can't be sold locally, in case the Tokkō tracks them down."
"I know you have extensive connections outside the city, throughout the four surrounding provinces and sixteen circuits."
"That's why I came to discuss this with you in the middle of the night."
Old Knife Handle gave a knowing smile. "Very thorough. It seems that major isn't looking for a one-off deal."
"I'll find someone. You needn't concern yourselves with the goods. I guarantee they won't appear in Shanghai."
"As for your twenty percent, Boss Wu,"
"I'm afraid you'll have to make another trip once it's done."
Payment afterward? Under the lamplight, Wu Jingui's plump face shifted uncertainly.
After a long pause, he finally nodded firmly. "All right. With your reputation in Shanghai, I trust you."
"I'll come back for the money once it's done. I'll leave you to your business."
With that, Wu Jingui put on his cloak, covered half his face, and opened the back door again, slipping furtively out of the room.
The room fell quiet. A Xiang, the brothel attendant, came in carrying hot water.
Since Old Knife Handle had not gone to bed, naturally, neither would he.
"Boss, who are you planning to have take this shipment?"
"Our own men..."
Old Knife Handle raised a hand for silence, lifted the tea bowl before him, and took a sip. "The Qingpu Wang Family's goods are too hot to handle."
"Fatty Wu may be afraid of dying, but he's no fool."
"If these goods appear on the black market, more than one or two people will be implicated."
"We can't use our men. Get Chen Fan."
"Young Master Chen?" A Xiang frowned. "He won't release the hawk until he sees the hare. I doubt we can just bluff him into it!"
"Ha! You're learning to use your head, A Xiang." Old Knife Handle set down his tea bowl. "Good. A man who doesn't use his head in this business will be a mere thug all his life!"
"That young man needs money, a source of goods, and a chance to establish himself in Shanghai."
"And I happen to have what he needs. Giving him Wu Jingui's deal kills three birds with one stone."
"We earn a commission, give Chen Fan a chance to try his hand, and find out just how capable the young man really is."
"He had plenty of courage and ruthlessness a few years ago. I need to see whether he's developed any brains in the three years since!"
"Besides, cotton cloth isn't blasting caps. It isn't nearly as deadly."
"Once it's out of Shanghai, even if someone really does seize it, three thousand bolts of cotton cloth are still just cloth. At most, it's smuggling. They can't slap an 'aiding the enemy' charge on it."
"And that would be the end of it!"
"Let Chen Fan wade into these muddy waters first and sound out that Japanese major. Even if something goes wrong, it won't burn us."
"Brilliant, Chief!" A Xiang raised his thumb in praise.
Old Knife Handle gave a hum, the corners of his mouth rising slightly, his eyes showing that everything was under control.
Knock, knock, knock. The back door sounded again. A Xiang hurried to open it, and a short man slipped inside, stooping. "Boss, it's done!"
"Young Master Chen and his men pulled it off!"
"Heh." Old Knife Handle chuckled softly and murmured, "Interesting..."
The following afternoon, Chen Fan walked into Shengping Theatre alone.
During the day, the theatre only put on one afternoon act, and that had long since ended.
The hall was empty now, and the curtains hanging over the stage had been gathered to either side.
Some scenery had yet to be removed from center stage: a long table, a square dining table, two grand armchairs, and a backdrop screen with a carelessly painted landscape.
But an empty stage did not mean the place was deserted. Women's coy laughter drifted down from the second floor from time to time!
These were the unwritten rules for performers in this era. They needed more than singing skills; they had to know how to please people and be willing to go all out!
Chen Fan did not linger. He went straight through the hall and along the side corridor to the iron door at the rear. The two men guarding it clearly recognized him. They bowed slightly, then knocked on the door.
The door opened from within.
Old Knife Handle stood in the doorway with a pipe in his mouth, wearing a navy-blue, silk-faced padded robe. He looked in good spirits.
He stepped aside to let Chen Fan in, then closed the door.
"Sit. Thanks for your hard work last night," Old Knife Handle said, walking behind the huanghuali table and sitting down.
"Making money is never easy," Chen Fan said self-mockingly. He took out a slip of paper and handed it over. "Same arrangement. The goods are at Xingyuan Inn. Send someone to collect them."
"One thousand silver dollars." Old Knife Handle produced a case containing twenty red-paper rolls of silver dollars, fifty to a roll.
Then Old Knife Handle took out a stack of bank drafts. "Promissory notes from Jin Merchant Bank Longkui Branch. Five thousand silver dollars!"
"Count them, Young Master Chen!"
Chen Fan did not refuse. He broke open one roll of silver dollars, picked up a coin, blew on it, and held it to his ear.
The silver dollar rang clearly beside his ear.
He weighed it in his hand, feeling inexplicably bitter...
After years of risking his life for the party-state, his monthly allowance of a few dozen fabi had been less than what he made on his first deal after becoming a discarded pawn!
Old Knife Handle watched Chen Fan close the case, then suddenly took an envelope from the drawer and pushed it toward him.
The envelope was unsealed, revealing a thick stack of colorful notes. On top was a Central Reserve Bank note with a face value of five hundred yuan.
"This is a bank draft for eight thousand silver dollars, from the Central Bank. Any money house in the French Concession or International Settlement can cash it."
He had just handed over five thousand, and now he was suddenly producing another eight thousand silver dollars...
Chen Fan looked up at Old Knife Handle. "Sixth Master, what is this supposed to mean?"
"Nothing in particular. I know you want to establish yourself in Shanghai, Young Master Chen. These days, the bold stuff themselves while the timid starve..."
As Old Knife Handle warmed to his spiel, Chen Fan suddenly raised a hand...
"Enough, Sixth Master. That spiel won't work on me. Whatever you want to say, please say it all at once!"
Old Knife Handle laughed. "Good, good. Talking to a clever man certainly saves effort. Let's put our cards on the table. I have a deal I'd like to partner with you on."
Chen Fan said nothing, waiting for him to continue.
Old Knife Handle discarded the cigarette butt from his white jade holder, fitted a fresh cigarette, and said slowly, "I have a client with a source for three thousand bolts of cotton cloth."
"The shipment is stock confiscated from the Qingpu Wang Family by the Japanese Kempeitai Headquarters. It's being held at Yangshupu Warehouse."
"A Kempeitai major named Sugita Tomokazu held back the shipment without reporting it to the logistics department. He wants to turn it into cash privately before the supplies are entered in the inventory."
"My client doesn't dare appear himself. He wants someone trustworthy to take delivery directly."
"I see. Sixth Master, you want me to take delivery."
"Yes," Old Knife Handle admitted without hesitation. "My position makes it inappropriate for me to participate directly."
"Everyone who deals with me knows I'm the broker. I never handle the goods or money personally."
"If I appear in person this time, I'll be breaking a rule I've kept for twenty years."
"Once that rule is broken, my reputation is in jeopardy. If I can collect goods myself today, tomorrow people will wonder whether I'm also delivering goods and collecting payments myself."
"In our line of work, trust is the most valuable thing, and also the most fragile."
"A broker has to follow a broker's rules!"
Chen Fan nodded. As he understood it, Old Knife Handle's business model rested on the word "neutrality."
Once he personally entered a transaction, he was no longer an intermediary, but a seller or a buyer.
A broker could be neutral, but once he participated directly, he had his own position. And having a position meant having opponents.
Then he could no longer be fair, and people came to him precisely because they knew he was fair!
"So you need a desperado who won't worry about the consequences," Chen Fan said, spelling it out for him.
Old Knife Handle waved a hand. "Young Master Chen, that isn't quite accurate. Shanghai is a mixed bag, and these days, desperadoes are the last thing it lacks."
"Spend a few dozen silver dollars at the Shanghai docks, and you can find a desperado willing to kill for you. There are plenty of men like that."
"But I need someone who can solve problems himself."
"Any number of things could go wrong throughout this deal."
"I need someone who can handle all of them without making me worry."
Chen Fan considered for a moment, then said mildly, "Sixth Master, since you're willing to trust me, naturally, I have no reason to turn money away!"
"Then let's discuss how to divide it!"
"Major Yoshino's asking price is forty percent. I've worked it out carefully. Three thousand bolts of fine cotton cloth will cost around thirteen or fourteen thousand silver dollars."
Old Knife Handle began counting on his fingers. "Fatty Wu found the connection. He wants twenty percent."
"The real money comes in the next step. Once we have the goods, we sell them, and you and I split the profit from the sale equally."
"You want me to make the deal and get the goods first, then you'll handle selling them," Chen Fan concluded after summing up the whole process.
"Exactly. Because I have buyers, and you don't."
"So you do the work on the purchasing end, and I do the work on the sales end. An equal split of the profits. Fair and square."
"As for the capital, I know you don't have it. But I do!"
"One of us puts up the money, the other puts in the work, and we take the whole shipment."
Chen Fan felt a stir of interest. If this deal really was as Old Knife Handle described, it was indeed a sure profit with no risk of loss.
The Qingpu Wang Family had been a big name a few years ago. Even the government gave their supplies priority. That was probably why the Japanese had targeted them!
At current black-market cotton prices, the Qingpu Wang Family's cloth could fetch thirteen or fourteen silver dollars a bolt. Three thousand bolts would sell for over forty thousand silver dollars at least.
Even after deducting Sugita's asking price of over ten thousand and Fatty Wu's brokerage fee, the remaining profit would be around twenty thousand.
Split equally, Old Knife Handle and he would each get a little over ten thousand.
Even after all expenses, at least ten thousand would remain!
What could more than ten thousand silver dollars do in Shanghai?
A great deal. Even a decent storefront in the French Concession only cost three or four hundred silver dollars now. Ten thousand would be enough for him to open a trading firm and establish himself respectably at Shanghai Station...