Chapter 150: 149, Fang Wen’s Fury, Literary Salon And Heaven And Earth
Regarding the air distribution plan proposed by Fang Wen, everyone failed to realize its strategic significance for Taishan Airlines.
Once the aviation logistics park is built, that will be the complete form of Taishan Airlines.
At that time, it will not only be able to carry passengers and airmail, but also establish a broader resource distribution system, allowing Taishan Airlines to integrate more closely with China’s social and economic life.
Although unaware of these significances, the members of Fang Wen’s small group knew it was a profitable business.
For this reason, Shopkeeper Liu and Fang Shouxin gladly took on this job.
The celebration ended, and everything returned to normal.
Fang Wen made a special trip to Nanjing.
He arrived outside the Nanjing Government gate and had the gate guard notify Yue Jinping, saying he was waiting outside.
Yue Jinping, dressed in military uniform, walked out quickly.
“You’re here? What do you want from me?”
Fang Wen replied, “On the way over, I saw a Western restaurant opened nearby. Let’s go there and talk.”
The two chatted and laughed as they entered the Western restaurant, where the server led them to a quiet private seat inside.
“For you two, we have iced coffee, hot coffee, thick cocoa, stewed pigeon, steak. What would you like?”
The shop was small with few items, but it was quiet, which was a style of this era.
The weather was a bit hot, so Fang Wen casually ordered a cup of iced coffee and added a steak.
Yue Jinping only wanted a cup of thick cocoa.
His stomach was a bit hungry, so Fang Wen decided to eat something first before getting to business.
He ate the steak while Yue Jinping watched.
“Watching you eat makes me think of a ci poem.”
“Really? Recite it for me.”
“Several foreign restaurants with vermilion doors closed, stewed pigeon and steak never too fatty; one guest with one big plate devours freely, full then casually drinks fine wine.”
Fang Wen ate the last piece of steak, took a sip of iced coffee, and recalled the ci poem Yue Jinping recited.
“Very vivid, describing the process of eating steak clearly in just a few words. Who wrote it?”
“Someone from the Qing Dynasty wrote it. I saw it in an old book called Shanghai Hundred Rhymes,” Yue Jinping replied.
Fang Wen nodded and, seeing the cocoa at the corner of Yue Jinping’s mouth, picked up a napkin and reached out to wipe it for her.
Then he got to the main topic.
“I want to participate in the Great Wall Campaign, flying my Shrike Hao there.”
Yue Jinping was savoring the happiness of Fang Wen interrupting for her, but upon hearing this, she immediately shook her head.
“You can’t go. No airplane can participate in that war.”
“Why? Is there no way?” Fang Wen asked in surprise.
“It’s not a matter of connections. The higher-ups will absolutely not agree.”
Yue Jinping said meaningfully, summarizing it in six words: Rectify internal affairs before resisting foreign aggression.
At this time, the Chinese Air Force was entirely used to deal with its own people.
So the central air force had not a single aircraft participating in the Great Wall Campaign.
So the Japanese Army’s bombers could advance unhindered.
So the Japanese Army’s airplanes could show off over Beiping, scattering leaflets.
Since the central air force could not participate in the Great Wall Campaign, naturally no other Chinese airplanes could go either; going would slap the central air force in the face.
Hearing Yue Jinping’s explanation, Fang Wen felt chilled inside.
The external enemy was about to reach Beiping, yet the National Government acted like this.
Although he had been mentally prepared, Fang Wen still.
He lost all interest, placed the meal fee on the table, and left directly.
Leaving Yue Jinping staring blankly at his back.
Fang Wen walked outside the National Government, looking at the majestic gate.
Too disappointing.
With no chance to participate in the Great Wall air combat, Fang Wen returned to Shanghai from Nanjing, gradually adjusted his mindset, and resumed normal work.
Work is the best way to soothe emotions; only success in one’s undertaking can gradually digest that disappointment toward the National Government.
After all, he knew the future, and the future would ultimately be bright.
There was a lot of work, too much to finish.
He piloted Taishan One from Shanghai to Xiangxi Airport, then flew to Yunnan Airport to load cargo, and finally arrived in Kolkata.
Delivering Shao Sishen and a Shao family manager who accompanied him.
He also unloaded 4 tons of supplies along the way.
This was Yunnan ham requested by British Army soldiers.
British Navy soldiers who frequently patrolled the seas had a special fondness for Yunnan ham.
As part of the transaction, the returning f.220 brought back a large batch of British Navy supplies.
Such as canned food, blankets, and two tons of aviation gasoline.
This was a one-off transaction, a private deal between both sides, which could be considered Republic of China smuggling.
Therefore, on the return, he flew directly from Kolkata back to Xiangxi Airport and unloaded all the aviation gasoline into the airport fuel depot.
As for the canned food and blankets, they were given out as company welfare to the bomb factory employees and Gan Army Security Brigade living harsh lives at Xiangxi Airport.
After unloading everything, Fang Wen flew the empty airplane back to Shanghai.
He needed to work with Howard on camouflage modifications to the airplane.
Those slide rails and bomb bay were covered with a layer of floor.
This layer of floor could be removed; normally, it served as camouflage, so nothing suspicious would be noticed when loading cigarettes and medicinal materials.
May 16
Shopkeeper Liu and Fang Shouxin entered the city to conduct final negotiations with several tobacco companies.
Cooperation between both sides was already confirmed; now they needed to discuss the sales share each company would get.
This was what the tobacco companies cared about most.
They were even willing to give up most of the profit, just to have Taishan Airlines exclusively sell their cigarettes.
This of course wouldn’t do; if a single cigarette brand became too popular, it would be easy for them to cut out the middleman and go solo.
Therefore, Taishan Airlines insisted that all tobacco companies join.
This left only the final negotiations on who got more share and who got less.
Needless to say, in today’s negotiation, Shopkeeper Liu and Fang Shouxin would face attacks from various sugar-coated bullets, even temptations of beauty.
Fang Wen, unable to go to the urban area of Shanghai, could only envy them.
But he wasn’t idle either.
Because the Asia-Europe flight travelogue was published in the newspaper, his Asia-Europe long-distance flight became well-known in Shanghai.
Shanghai’s literary circle envied this dashing travel lifestyle and organized a group to come to the airport, specifically holding a flight salon.
Fang Wen did not refuse such an event and proactively covered the venue and expenses to host these guests.
The flight salon was held in a large courtyard next to Taishan Airlines Headquarters.
That place had previously hosted the second tung oil for airplanes signing ceremony; the venue was large and suitable for such free social activities as a salon.
In the courtyard, long tables were set with food and fruits on one side, and alcohol on the other.
There were no servers; anyone wanting to eat would take a tray from the table and get food and drinks themselves.
The people attending the flight salon were not unfamiliar with this.
They had seen this description in the third installment of the Asia-Europe flight travelogue; it was a form of gathering that was just starting to become popular in Europe’s upper class, perfect for the current situation.
Everyone held trays, nibbling on food; or picked up wine cups to chat with friends.
They could stand or sit; as long as they found someone to talk to, they could chat for a long time.
Until the main hosts of the salon, Fang Wen and Kuang Mingzhu, arrived.
Everyone immediately surrounded them, wanting to ask questions they had after reading the Asia-Europe flight travelogue.
“Shall we go over there to talk?”
Fang Wen entered the room and sat down amid their crowding, while others sat on sofas or formed a circle.
A quiet woman eagerly asked, “Mr. Fang, I want to ask, what does it feel like to fly at thousands of meters in the sky?”
Fang Wen smiled and replied, “This? There are different flight experiences. For example, piloting unprotected small airplanes like Qingyun Hao and Shrike Hao at high altitude, there is airflow pouring in from both sides, and the high altitude can sometimes be very humid. When you pilot such an airplane through cloud layers, your whole body gets soaked. And in thunderstorms, that’s even worse; we must fly out quickly, or the inside of the airplane will be full of water.”
Someone immediately interjected, “What if the heavy rain is so intense it floods your cockpit with water?”
This was a good observation angle, and Fang Wen smiled in response, “This situation is impossible. The airplane cockpit has drainage holes, but flying in heavy rain is the most uncomfortable, I can guarantee that.”
Someone else asked, “Mr. Fang, regarding food, can you comment on the dining experiences throughout the journey?”
This aspect wasn’t covered much in the Asia-Europe flight travelogue.
Mainly considering international influence, since newspapers are a medium that easily spreads worldwide.
But in this small private salon, Fang Wen could talk about it.
“First, I must say that Chinese delicacies are absolutely number one. Even though I often fly around domestically, I still haven’t tried all of our country’s various delicacies.”
Everyone nodded with smiles, deeply agreeing; even in a place like Shanghai, restaurants from all over often open, many of which people haven’t tried.
Fang Wen continued, “Then let’s talk about abroad. The Indochina Peninsula has abundant rainfall, like our Southern China with rice as the staple food. Dishes are mostly boiled, stewed, cold-mixed, grilled, or fried, with many types of meat—I suggest not trying them casually.”
Someone summarized, “In other words, eat less meat, more vegetarian dishes.”
Fang Wen nodded in affirmation and continued talking about Indian food.
As for Indian food, he hadn’t tried it and could only describe based on his brother-in-law’s experience.
Regarding his brother-in-law eating one meal and having diarrhea for three days, many people became sufficiently wary.
The food journey that followed gradually became exciting.
Persian cuisine, Turkish barbecue, French cuisine, German cuisine all had their merits.
Only Britain’s fried fish left Fang Wen unable to praise it.
This was also an important reason why the British Kolkata Navy was willing to trade supplies for Yunnan ham—they couldn’t eat fish and chips every day either.
The salon reached the free activity stage, and Fang Wen and Kuang Mingzhu prepared to leave.
At this time, someone came over with a newspaper.
“Now it’s current events commentary, old rules, I’ll read the newspaper, and everyone can speak only after I’m done.”
Gathering to discuss current events was the very meaning of the salon; Fang Wen and Kuang Mingzhu exchanged a glance and sat down again.
The man picked up the newspaper and read.
“Major traitor Zhang Jiaoyao has been killed.”
“Zhang Jiaoyao, courtesy name Xunchen, successively served as commander, army commander, etc., under Wu Peifu, Zhang Zongchang, and Zhang Zuolin. In 1933 Republic of China, he was assassinated in Beiping.”
“This newspaper has collected information from all sides to report to readers from the most complete perspective the process of this major traitor being executed.”
“Reportedly, early this year, Japanese contacted Zhang Jiaoyao, promising 10 million in activity funds to have him assassinate He Yingqing, seize power in a coup, and establish ‘North China State,’ with Zhang Jiaoyao as its ruler. For his own selfish interests, he did not hesitate to betray the nation and agreed to work for the Japanese side.”
“He received 300,000 silver dollars in activity funds from the Kwantung Army and was appointed ‘Pingjin Second Group Army Total Commander,’ to infiltrate Beiping during the Great Wall Campaign and act when the opportunity arose.”
“After entering Beiping, he was discovered by the Beiping Military Committee Sub-Committee, which notified Revival Society action group team leader Dai Li, who then arranged personnel to assassinate him in the Six Nations Hotel.”
Reading ended, and someone immediately commented.
“This man had the courtesy name Xunchen, yet did no meritorious service for the country; dead is dead.”
“No, his courtesy name Xunchen probably means loyal to the Japanese.”
“So, he died for his master.”
Everyone burst into laughter; even Kuang Mingzhu couldn’t help laughing out loud.
No one sympathized with such a person.
The man continued reading the newspaper.
“Mr. He Jiagan, under pen name, published an article titled ‘Heaven Above and Earth Below.'”
The man read hundreds of words aloud.
Revealing the absurd state of the current situation.
Although the article used some metaphors, everyone present understood what ‘rectify internal affairs before resisting foreign aggression’ meant.
But after the reading ended, no one commented.
Everyone was afraid of offending that one.
Fang Wen understood the article’s meaning even better; he was a pilot, a patriotic pilot.
His greatest pain at this moment was being unable to pilot a fighter jet to fight the enemy over the Great Wall.
He stood up indignantly.
“Great article. Heaven above and earth below—our China’s northern borders repeatedly invaded, yet powerless to resist. Dealing with our own people, though, slashing flesh with a saber feels great.”
His words drew surprised looks from everyone.
Kuang Mingzhu quickly pulled his arm to make him sit down.
A man sighed and said, “We all understand General Manager Fang’s feelings, but the fate of the world is not in our hands. Unable to reach heaven, how can we talk of other things?”
Others chimed in:
“Yes, the affairs of the world must be handled by those who govern it; our words are mere scholar’s talk.”
“Why not just talk of romance and not national affairs?”
Fang Wen did not respond, responding coldly.
The people before him were a portrait of a certain group in this era: they admired and yearned for a life, yet were indifferent to their surroundings, neither resisting nor pursuing, merely living in longing.
Yet they didn’t think that today the Japanese could bomb Beiping at will, and tomorrow they would bomb Shanghai the same way.
Everything the Japanese did in the Great Wall Campaign today would later be imposed on other Chinese lands.
Even more tragically.
Never think that concession will gain the enemy’s mercy; it only leads to them advancing inch by inch.
Manchukuo outside the passes now, and they want to establish a Hebei state next.
In the future, all of China will be meat in their eyes.
Will they show mercy?
Absolutely not; the scene that would happen in Nanjing in the future flashed in Fang Wen’s mind.
Bang, Fang Wen’s right hand slammed on the coffee table beside him, sending the tea cup crashing to the floor.
He said nothing; if he couldn’t do it now, then shut up, don’t show off, but accumulate this anger, this hatred, and pay it back to the Japanese fiercely later.
Under the gaze of this group of romance-talking people, Fang Wen strode away.
Kuang Mingzhu firmly followed; the people here were very hypocritical—she preferred her husband’s straightforwardness and depth, and also liked the Taishan Volunteer Army small group.
