Chapter 137: Contacting the Organization Again

After Cheng Qianfan left, the subordinate Old Lai finally asked Xia Wenqiao, “Third Brother, are we really going with only fifteen percent?”

“When have I ever gone back on my word?”

Xia Wenqiao glanced at his subordinate.

“What, can’t figure it out?”

“Third Brother, even if Cheng Qianfan is about to become Deputy Inspector, giving up another ten percent would already be enough. Taking twenty percent profit would do. Why give up another ten percent?”

“You don’t understand?”

Xia Wenqiao shook his head.

“It’s right that you don’t understand. If you understood, you’d be the boss.”

He removed the upper steaming tray from the food box.

Underneath was a plate of red bean cakes.

Picking up a piece with his hand and stuffing it into his mouth, Xia Wenqiao narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.

“At least he knew his place and spat back half a share.”

“Third Brother, if that surnamed Cheng hadn’t given back that half share, would we really have taken only ten percent?” Old Lai asked.

“I, Xia Wenqiao, always keep my word.”

Xia Wenqiao sneered.

“I’d have had no problem with it. It’s those old fellows who’d probably be unhappy. Once they’re unhappy, Cheng Qianfan would have quite the experience awaiting him.”

Old Lai relaxed.

This was still their ruthless and black-hearted Third Brother Xia.

“Shuiwa, Dalin, and Kangbao, three lashes each.”

Xia Wenqiao suddenly said.

When the “gunmen” had rushed in earlier, those three idiots had been too busy watching the performance.

They had been “shot dead” in the very first wave.

“Yes, Third Brother.”

Old Lai nodded and left carrying the empty food box.

Xia Wenqiao’s expression turned cold.

Some of the old men within the Gang had always regarded him as a thorn in their side and coveted the black-market business in his hands.

Recently, Xia Wenqiao had begun “neglecting his proper work” and developed an obsession with opera.

Not only that, he indulged his younger sister’s antics, constantly staging that so-called “new version of Mu Guiying.”

According to information Xia Wenqiao had received, certain people had already lowered their guard against him.

Did they really think he was addicted to the opera stage?

Though Xia Wenqiao lacked formal education, he had been clever since childhood.

Performing plays... conducting drills.

Tsk, tsk.

Xia Wenqiao clicked his tongue.

At first, he had only pretended to be obsessed with opera to confuse his opponents.

After accompanying his sister in two performances, he found himself enjoying it more and more.

He arranged for his men to take turns playing gunmen and bodyguards.

Anyone who performed poorly got whipped.

He enjoyed it immensely.

To outsiders, Xia Wenqiao appeared to be acting recklessly.

His subordinates were forced to perform in plays and then got beaten besides.

It looked like madness.

Sooner or later he would lose the support of his men and watch his organization fall apart.

According to intelligence he had secretly gathered, his scheme had already begun to deceive his rivals within the Gang.

Xia Wenqiao smugly hummed a few lines of opera.

Then he scratched his scalp regretfully.

He had actually hoped Cheng Qianfan would fail to appreciate the favor and truly accept that twenty-percent concession.

If Cheng Qianfan had really been greedy enough to be that foolish, Xia Wenqiao would not have minded manipulating things behind the scenes and letting Cheng Qianfan, along with the people behind him such as Second Lieutenant Pete and Xiu Gongshen, fight those old fossils.

Unfortunately, that kid Cheng Qianfan, though greedy for money, knew how to leave room for maneuver.

He was someone of substance.

Young, capable, well-connected, and clear-headed.

Only such people could thrive like fish in water during these chaotic times.

Xia Wenqiao lightly tapped his fingers on the table.

After this affair, his relationship with Cheng Qianfan had advanced another step.

That counted as a worthwhile gain.

Cheng Qianfan sat in a rickshaw.

There was a hole in the canopy through which he could see the starlight in the night sky.

His right hand unconsciously rested on the holster at his waist.

Cheng Qianfan sneered inwardly.

This Xia Wenqiao appeared rough and straightforward, carrying himself like a man of broad loyalties.

In reality, he was cunning and treacherous.

The nickname Black Saburo referred not only to the fact that Xia Wenqiao was the third son and dark-skinned.

It also referred to his black-hearted ruthlessness and double-dealing nature.

Many people only understood the first meaning and not the second.

In Cheng Qianfan’s plans, negotiating the commission down to twenty percent had already been an ideal outcome.

Xia Wenqiao had voluntarily given up another ten percent and offered to take only ten percent commission.

Cheng Qianfan could tell that Xia Wenqiao had sincerely intended to make that additional concession.

Although he did not know the reason, Cheng Qianfan immediately became vigilant.

He knew very well that he did not yet possess enough influence to make Xia Wenqiao so generous.

One should carry only a bowl suited to one’s abilities.

He decisively accepted half of the concession and returned the other half to Xia Wenqiao.

That was the most appropriate response.

On one hand, one should always leave room for others.

This had always been Cheng Qianfan’s principle of conduct.

One could be greedy for money, but one needed restraint.

At the same time, it allowed him to avoid the trap Xia Wenqiao had set.

In fact, Xia Wenqiao had no choice but to accept the favor represented by that returned half-share.

“Officer Cheng, we’ve arrived.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

Cheng Qianfan paid the fare and added an extra jiao.

The rickshaw puller thanked him repeatedly.

After returning home, Cheng Qianfan immediately locked the door from the inside.

He went upstairs.

First, he turned on the desk lamp and rapidly wrote intelligence with his left hand.

When he finished, he tore off the page.

Then he tore out all the following sheets that bore pressure marks from the writing and burned them in a charcoal basin.

After pouring water over the ashes, he dumped them into the toilet.

He quickly removed his clothes and changed into a different outfit.

Then he took out cosmetic solution and applied it to his face.

After it dried, he looked in the mirror and found his appearance greatly altered.

In the darkness, combined with a change in his walking posture, it would be extremely difficult for anyone to connect the man in the mirror with Cheng Qianfan.

Moving aside the bookshelf and lifting a floor tile, he removed the wooden box hidden beneath.

Inside was a Mauser pistol.

This was not the pistol he had taken to Hangzhou.

That pistol had appeared in Hangzhou and had once been confiscated by the Special Service Office at Xiongzhen Tower.

He was not certain whether the Special Service Office had recorded identifying details about the weapon.

To be safe, Cheng Qianfan had thrown that pistol into the Huangpu River.

He still could not trust his “colleagues” in the Special Service Office.

He worried that one day those people might expose his identity as a Special Service Office agent.

Cheng Qianfan carefully inspected the Mauser pistol and confirmed that everything was in proper order.

He also removed a spare magazine from the wooden box.

Returning the box to its hiding place, he restored the floor tile and pushed the bookshelf back into position.

Next, Cheng Qianfan extinguished the desk lamp.

Holding a flashlight in his mouth, he unscrewed the bulb and placed it in a drawer.

He replaced it with a burned-out bulb.

Then he lit an oil lamp.

This was a lamp he had specially prepared.

It contained very little oil and would automatically go out after roughly half an hour.

After finishing all this, Cheng Qianfan prepared to leave through the second-floor window.

He seemed to hesitate.

Returning to the room, he lowered a bamboo basket hanging from a ceiling beam.

The basket was filled with dried dandelions.

He reached inside and pulled out a cloth package.

Inside were four German-made M24 grenades.

Cheng Qianfan took one grenade and slipped it into his pocket before hanging the basket back on the beam.

He was going to contact Comrade Wang Jun of the Shanghai Municipal Committee.

There was intelligence and information that needed to be reported and discussed with the organization.

He had been away from Shanghai for more than a month.

He did not know whether Wang Jun and Kang Erniu still lived in that safe house.

Nor did he know whether the location remained secure or had already come under enemy surveillance.

The revolutionary situation was becoming increasingly severe.

He had to be especially cautious.

He opened the window again and climbed out in a crouch.

After drawing the curtains and closing the window, he pulled a thin cord.

Click-crack.

The window latch locked into place.

Putting away the cord, he nimbly traversed the roof eaves.

After only a few movements, he vanished into the night.