Chapter 102: There’s A Rat At Home
Oshima Kenjiro opened his mouth and murmured: “I still feel that letting Chinese people get involved in the Southern Transportation Department doesn’t seem right.”
At this time, Sato Buntai, who had not spoken, stood up and said: “Oshima, what the Empire needs are capable people.”
“If you can’t find a suitable reason and just use this as an excuse, I think it doesn’t hold up.”
“Mr. Chen’s identity is not just Director of the Economic Department; he is also a member of the Eighth Section of the China Affairs Section.”
“Are you questioning the decision of the Homeland Strategy Section?”
Hearing Sato Buntai’s words, everyone’s faces showed some surprise.
Surprised that Chen Yang actually had such an identity.
“Alright, later Abe will distribute the work manuals to everyone.”
“I hope everyone can quickly familiarize themselves with the processes they are responsible for, join hands together, and complete the transportation mission.”
“Hai.” Everyone stood up and respectfully bowed to Sato Buntai.
The southern weather was like a child’s face: one second crying its heart out, the next second beaming with joy.
Shanghai, French Concession, Xiang Ji Noodle House.
The June plum rain was sticky like oil; the muggy water vapor wrapped the fishy smell from the Suzhou River bank and the rotten smell of sycamore leaves, heavily pressing down on Jinxian Road.
The glass window of Xiang Ji Noodle House was covered with foggy water droplets; the old ceiling fan in the hall creaked and stirred the oil smoke and sweat.
Wharf workers in short jackets held large sea bowls and slurped noodles with their heads down; peddlers running solo deals nibbled sesame seed cakes with garlic cloves; in the full hall of clamor, only the square table in the corner was unusually quiet.
Lin Xueli had changed into a faded bamboo cloth long gown, with sleeves slightly rolled up, revealing half a wrist.
His fingertips rested on the rim of the coarse porcelain bowl; the three-fresh soup noodles with a few scallion bits floating in it rose thin smoke, blurring the view behind the lenses.
Behind the counter, the noodle house shopkeeper’s abacus clicked unhurriedly: three light, two heavy, then a half-beat pause.
It was exactly the signal for “safety.”
“Sir, another plate of vinegar-pickled cucumbers?” The serving boy wiped sweat and came close.
Lin Xueli shook his head, the chopstick tip drawing an arc in the soup: “June yellows haven’t arrived yet; this year’s crab paste is still a bit underdone.”
“Picky.” A voice neither light nor heavy sounded; a middle-aged man in a long gown appeared in the noodle house at some point, “Boss Zhu, has the tobacco strands from Nanyang arrived?”
Lin Xueli took out his ever-present handkerchief to wipe his mouth, looked up at the middle-aged man and said: “Boss Chen, let’s not talk about that first; sit down and have a bowl of noodles.”
“Very good, very good. I see this noodle house’s business is not bad; even someone as picky as Boss Zhu comes specifically to eat noodles, there must be something to it.” Zhong Yuan propped his umbrella to one side and sat down leisurely: “Shop assistant, one bowl of pork rib noodles.”
“Coming right up. Please wait a moment, sir.” The shop assistant said politely and hurried to the back kitchen to place the order.
Lin Xueli drank a mouthful of noodle soup; the June temperature was gradually rising; this mouthful of crab roe-flavored noodle soup went down, and Lin Xueli comfortably exhaled.
“Boss Chen, the tobacco strands arrived yesterday; I’ve stored the goods in the West Warehouse.”
Zhong Yuan frowned and said: “In this weather, tobacco strands can easily get damp; the West Warehouse doesn’t ventilate well—isn’t it better to change the place?”
Lin Xueli shook his head and said: “Boss Chen doesn’t need to worry about this; if the tobacco strands get damp, I’ll compensate in full.”
“However, there is one matter I’d like Boss Chen to help with.”
“Among the goods you sent last time, two bags of goods seemed to have been gnawed by rats; shouldn’t you check carefully?”
Zhong Yuan’s face changed drastically: “Boss Zhu, you can’t just say things like that.”
“Boss Chen, a problem is a problem; in our line of work, we don’t speak carelessly.” Lin Xueli said slowly: “The goods transported to Nanjing last time had issues.”
“Not much time has passed, and now the retrieved goods have problems again; once might be poor storage, but twice in a short time—if not rats, could it be a problem with the goods themselves?”
“Boss Chen, we can’t be overly confident; rats in the warehouse—the primary condition is to catch the rat; currently, it seems that rat only damaged a bit of goods.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve already sold the problematic goods at a low price.”
“For safety’s sake, this batch of goods should stay in the warehouse unmoved for now.”
Zhong Yuan frowned and said: “Alright, I’ll go back and arrange for the shop assistants to clean the warehouse.”
“By the way, which batch was the goods Boss Zhu mentioned last time?”
Lin Xueli thought for a moment and said: “I don’t remember clearly either, but it should be around the day my cat had an accident.”
“Boss Chen should have the detailed accounts; check them when you get back.”
Zhong Yuan wanted to say more but was interrupted by a figure; the noodle house shop assistant brought up a bowl of pork rib noodles: “Sir, your pork rib noodles are ready.”
Lin Xueli stood up, took out sixty cents and handed it to the shop assistant: “Money for two bowls of noodles.”
Then he said to Zhong Yuan: “Boss Chen, don’t worry about the tobacco strands issue; prepare the money, and we can transact anytime.”
“By the way, I have a guest who wants a batch of goods transported from the north; do you have a way?”
Zhong Yuan thought for a moment and said: “I’ll ask around with experts if they have any; I’ll give you a message as soon as possible.”
“Then I’ll trouble Boss Chen.” Lin Xueli smiled: “I’ve paid for the noodles; enjoy them slowly, I’m heading back first.”
“Take care, Boss Zhu.”
Their conversation did not avoid the wharf workers present at all; of course, to others’ ears, this was just a negotiation about goods between two Shanghai solo-deal small businessmen.
But at this time, Zhong Yuan was frowning tightly, looking preoccupied.
The tobacco strands in their mouths were the special commissioner; Lin Xueli had already found the person and arranged a hiding place.
But the following words made it hard for Zhong Yuan to accept.
Lin Xueli said there was a traitor in the organization; was such a thing really possible?
The coolies finished their noodles, chatting and laughing, left the noodle house arm-in-arm; the people in the noodle house gradually decreased, and the abacus beads on the counter returned to even popping sounds, constant like the plum rain tapping on the tiles.
Zhong Yuan finished the thick noodle soup, casually rolled up his sleeves to wipe his mouth, picked up the umbrella beside him, and disappeared into the wet and drizzly alley.
The noodle house shopkeeper still lowered his head fiddling with the greasy abacus beads; only the rolling beef bone rich aroma in the soup pot, wrapped in June’s humid heat, silently overflowed through the human world.
Shanghai, Director of the Economic Department’s Office.
Chen Yang’s fingers lightly tapped the desktop, his expression somewhat grave.
The Central China Expeditionary Army Headquarters’ transportation integration plan had truly disrupted all his original plans.
Transferring him from the Economic Department to serve as section chief in the Southern Transportation Department seemed like gaining greater power, but he lost the ability to control material movements at any time.
Sure enough, man proposes but God disposes; Chen Yang sighed slightly; now the only solution was to develop an obedient subordinate to watch the material warehouse for him—who should he choose?
