Chapter 150: Factory
It was Gu Yansheng’s first time at West Shanghai Police Station. Now that he saw it, he realized the exterior was rundown and very dilapidated.
But the display was quite impressive, with a group of police officers standing straight in two lines to welcome him.
“Welcome Director Gu’s visit!” The slogan was shouted quite loudly.
Gu Yansheng got out of the car. A man who looked like the chief, in his thirties, and Tax Bureau Chief Wang Rusong walked over from the doorway.
“Waited long?”
“No, I just arrived too, we were just chatting.”
Wang Rusong chuckled, “Brother Gu, this setup is something, right? When I first came, they did the same for me. I said it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted on doing it again for you. Let me introduce, the chief of West Shanghai Police Station, Ma Quan.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Ma Quan immediately hunched down, smiling obsequiously very quickly: “This humble officer Ma Quan has come to pay respects to Director Gu. Director Gu has worked hard. Director Gu, please come inside. I heard you like to drink coffee, so I specially sent someone to buy it from the top coffee shop in the concession.
Not knowing when you’d arrive, I had them buy a cup every ten minutes, buy a cup every ten minutes, and once bought, immediately send it over by rickshaw to guarantee the perfect temperature. This cup arrived just three minutes ago, please enjoy.”
Don’t call him Ma Quan anymore, call him Ma Bootlicker.
Gu Yansheng smiled, “Chief Ma, you’ve gone to great trouble.”
“It’s only right, it’s only right. Please, come in.”
He led the way in front, and Wang Rusong gave a look, laughing, “Isn’t he a character?”
“A cup every ten minutes, a cup every ten minutes—if I don’t come for three months, wouldn’t the money spent on coffee cover our 100,000 silver dollar tax?”
“Hahahaha.”
They arrived at the office.
Ma Quan smiled and introduced: “Director Gu, Director Wang, the office has been cleaned for you, and I even sprayed perfume. Smell it, isn’t it especially fragrant? From France.”
“You’re loaded.” Wang Rusong said in surprise, sniffed and said, “Don’t say, it really is quite fragrant.”
Ma Quan chuckled, “Where would I get that kind of money? French smuggled it in, we seized it during anti-smuggling, didn’t cost a dime.”
“Alright then, there are materials in the back of my car, trouble you to have someone move them over.”
“Sure thing.”
Ma Quan went out to give instructions and immediately came back.
Gu Yansheng asked curiously: “Did Director Lu tell you we were coming? What did he say?”
Ma Quan hunched over and replied: “Director Lu ordered that from today on, your commands are the highest directive. I must fully cooperate with your work and take good care of your daily life and safety. If there’s any neglect, severe punishment.”
Gu Yansheng looked around the room’s furnishings, sat on the sofa, “To be the chief of West Shanghai, you must be Director Lu’s favorite too. Since you know the reason we’re here, we’ll still need your help in the future.”
“Director Gu, don’t say ‘help’, this is what this humble officer should do.”
Gu Yansheng smiled, “Sit down, no need to stand. We’ll have questions for you later.”
He turned to Wang Rusong, “Have you looked at West Shanghai’s materials?”
“I have, it’s a total mess.” Wang Rusong looked troubled, legs crossed, “Brother Gu, between us brothers, I won’t beat around the bush. Let me tell you first, be mentally prepared: whatever tax can be collected in West Shanghai has already been collected. Squeezing out more is out of the question.
I specifically asked the tax collectors in West Shanghai, you know what he told me?
All Chinese-funded factories are operating at a loss now. Not to mention paying more tax, they can’t even pay workers’ salaries—they’re paying tax at a loss.”
“That serious? Someone doing losing business?”
“Yes.”
Wang Rusong raised an eyebrow, “At first they told me, I didn’t believe it, but the tax collectors under me really know the situation.
Like the most important cotton mill in West Shanghai, it was very profitable before the war. Logically, with many factories bombed in the war, the remaining ones should make even more, right?
But in reality, these Chinese-funded factories lose money every month. Same production capacity as before—previously sold nationwide, now Japanese control the river channels, can’t sell out, so they can only sell in Shanghai.
What price can you hope to get for cotton yarn in Shanghai?
Japanese take a cut too, cost price for 40% of the goods. Who pays for their food, drink, and everything?
Also, pre-war tax rate for cotton mills was 8%, now Japanese have raised it to 15%.
You tell me, after all this, can the factory still make money?
Even the current tax is pushing people to jump into the Huangpu River. Impossible to squeeze out even one more cent, let alone 30% more.”
Gu Yansheng hadn’t planned to make money from these factories anyway, no point in skinning Chinese-funded factories.
But he was curious, “Then according to you, if factories are losing money, why not close them? Real losses, or cooking the books?”
Wang Rusong smiled ambiguously, “Don’t get it? Factory operations lose money, but the money’s already spent, the factory still has value.
Machinery is always valuable, right? Can’t bear to throw it away, sell parts—Japanese are watching, won’t let them. If sold, who produces that 40% cotton yarn for them?
So they can only wait for things to improve, see if there’s a turnaround.
And let me tell you, heard of the Rong family’s cotton mill? Pre-war, it was Shanghai’s biggest cotton yarn boss.
Now he’s thriving in the concession, but he has several factories in West Shanghai, also losing money. Logically, he can afford the loss, just close them. Anyway, he didn’t accept Japanese recruitment, refuses to move to concession.
But he hasn’t closed them. Not only that, his nephews and younger generation are still managing the factories, operating at a loss.
Why?
Japanese warned him: dare to close the factory, they’ll throw his whole family into the Huangpu River. You say, does he dare close?”
Gu Yansheng nodded: “Pretty effective tactic. Japanese enterprise idea or Gendarmerie Headquarters idea?”
“Japanese enterprises. Who knows Gendarmerie Headquarters, but Japanese enterprises take his cotton yarn, resell at high price to their own military department—free money, right? Send some Japanese ronin to intimidate, ordinary Japanese, can enter concession without restriction. If they really want to kill Rong family people, isn’t it just a finger snap?”
“Sounds pretty bad.” Gu Yansheng nodded.
“Actually I know a bit more about the situation.” Ma Quan on the side smiled and said: “This has caused trouble before, strikes not just once or twice. Mainly these factory owners unwilling to keep losing money waiting for business to improve, so they delay workers’ salaries. Factory workers can’t get paid, so very dissatisfied, make trouble, strike.
Wasn’t there a big strike recently over food shortages? That’s what caused it.
Originally a bunch of people had no pay, relying on the factory canteen for meals, but those days even rice couldn’t keep up, so they went wild, even beat the Japanese ronin supervisors. For that, Japanese came to me, I arrested several leaders.
Gu Yansheng glanced at him sideways, “So concerned about ronin matters, took money?”
Ma Quan shook his head: “Where would they give me money? But Japanese enterprises called in the gendarmerie, gendarmes came, how could I not arrest? They’d even dare hit me later.”
“Where are the people now?”
“Released. These few are foremen. If not released, factory workers make trouble. Held two days then Japanese themselves took them back. Can’t do without them.”
Gu Yansheng nodded as he listened: “Is rice shortage serious in West Shanghai now?”
“Serious, rice famine everywhere, but not to the point of starving to death.
At first no food, they made trouble, but Japanese enterprises still need them to work, so got some rice for them. Now at least have rice to start work, just not full. Japanese enterprises are stingy, only give that much rice per day to not starve to death.”
Gu Yansheng looked at Wang Rusong, “Director Wang, this matter still needs communicating with Greater East Asia Ministry. Still need to allocate some rice over, don’t want trouble again later.”
Wang Rusong nodded, “Makes sense. Rice issue is the first to solve. Anyway Japanese themselves said no trouble allowed, give money where needed, give things where needed. Allocate some rice first.
See what other problems, call later and mention together.”
“Good.”
“Materials are here.” Police outside had moved the materials in.
Wang Rusong picked one out, “Look, November last year’s. December’s not done yet, this is the latest.”
Gu Yansheng flipped through. West Shanghai’s specialty is opium dens, surprisingly 167, each 500 silver dollars monthly fee, that’s 80,000 silver dollars already.
Casinos 5, each 5,000 silver dollars mandatory taxation monthly, that’s 25,000 silver dollars in tax.
“Only 5 casinos? I heard there are many in West Shanghai?”
“That’s 5 big casinos, the ones with ballrooms inside, can’t escape. Small casinos plenty, but those black market ones can’t be checked properly. By the time you go, people gone. You say it’s a casino, maybe they’re running a school inside? Go and they’ll recite lessons to you.”
“.”
Japanese textile factories seven, total 10,000 silver dollars tax, tax rate surprisingly 3%.
Japanese willing to pay tax?
“Japanese factories only 3% tax?” Gu Yansheng asked: “You said textile factories 15% earlier? And how only 10,000, seven factories, monthly sales less than 400,000?”
“15% is for Chinese-funded. Japanese paying tax is already good, this 3% I fought for with city government complaining to Gendarmerie Headquarters.”
Wang Rusong snorted, “Using our land, our people, not paying a cent— what does city government eat? Gendarmerie Headquarters agreed on that face.
As for just over 300,000 a month, obviously fake numbers, but we can’t check others’ books. They say cotton yarn production includes for military, military secret, what can we do?”
Indeed can’t check. Gu Yansheng understood.
Rest are Chinese-funded and foreign enterprise joint factories, they account for some, small merchants the rest, scattered to make up 350,000 monthly tax.
Calculated yearly on this data, really just 4 million.
Gu Yansheng looked at West Shanghai’s industries, besides textile factories, actually quite varied: ship repair machinery factories, textile machinery repair shops.
Flour mills, match factories, soap factories, even MSG production, surprisingly a famous brand, Tianchu MSG Factory, pays 5,000 silver dollars tax, that’s a major investor, matches three Japanese textile factories.
Big factories just this much, one ledger first few pages big players, rest various small shops, tax one or two silver dollars.
Gu Yansheng tossed the book onto the sofa, “So many small merchants, gives me a headache.”
“Don’t get a headache, if you do I get more.” Wang Rusong smiled and sighed: “I just handle tax collection, honestly, if there was a way to collect more, people below would have thought of it. Collecting this much means that’s all there is.
My brain’s not sharp anymore, Brother Gu, need you to come up with an idea.”
