Chapter 106: Catching Rats
Shanghai, Zhabei District, Dingxiangji Restaurant.
Dusk was falling, with lead-gray clouds pressing heavily on the withered branches of the plane trees.
Deep in the alley, the greasy cotton cloth door curtain of “Dingxiangji Restaurant” swayed in the through wind, carrying out the pungent smell of big bone thick soup simmered overnight, mixed with pork fat residue and cheap soy sauce.
The ground floor of the restaurant was cramped and narrow, with several greasy square tables and stools squeezed together. Passing coolies and newsboys hunched their necks, slurping noodles with their heads down. The air was filled with white misty steam and the sounds of swallowing food…
Thud thud thud, footsteps approached from far to near. A young figure lifted the cotton cloth door curtain and gave the shopkeeper a warm smile.
The shopkeeper lightly tapped his fingers on the abacus, making a few crisp snapping sounds.
The sound was neither heavy nor light, but clear enough for the visitor to understand his meaning: the environment was safe.
“Shopkeeper, do you still remember me from my last visit?” the young man stepped forward and greeted.
The shopkeeper adjusted his glasses and smiled faintly: “Of course, of course. You’re the guest who came last time to try the sizzling eel shreds.”
The young man nodded, “Same as before today, one serving of sizzling eel shreds, plus two signature dishes. I’m meeting a friend.”
The shopkeeper nodded repeatedly: “No problem, no problem. Still go to the second floor.”
With that, the shopkeeper called over the busy shop assistant and had him lead the young man to the second floor.
Soon after, the door curtain was lifted again. A man wearing a patched coarse cloth short jacket with a straw rope around his waist walked in, shoulders hunched.
He had an old felt hat pressed low on his head, the brim pulled down to cover most of his face, revealing only a rough chin and cracked lips.
Like many rickshaw pullers in Shanghai, a sweat towel whose original color could no longer be distinguished was draped over his shoulder—this was standard gear for rickshaw pullers.
“Shopkeeper, have you seen a Mr. about this tall, a bit fat, wearing glasses on his face?” The visitor deliberately gestured the other’s appearance, his voice hoarse and rough, with a deliberately imitated North Jiangsu accent.
“Oh. The guest you’re talking about seems to have just arrived, on the second floor.”
The shopkeeper waved his hand: “Pi Zi, take the guest to the second floor.”
“Thanks, boss.” The visitor showed a fawning smile unique to those at the bottom, casually took off his ragged felt hat, brushed the dust off his shoulder, revealing a weather-beaten, stubble-covered face with dull eyes, as if life had ground away all its luster.
“Guest, please follow me,” the shop assistant said to the visitor, then turned and led him to the second floor.
On the second floor by the window, the young man from before was reading a newspaper. The shop assistant brought the man to him. Their eyes met in a simple exchange of glances, and both had confirmed each other’s identity.
“Uncle Seven, it’s been years. You’ve aged quite a bit.”
The visitor sighed a little: “Yeah, making a living in Shanghai isn’t easy. Not like you, who can read and handle big things.”
“Uncle Seven can only sell his strength. Luckily, these years I’ve managed to earn a rickshaw, so I don’t have to look at others’ faces all day.
The code was correct. The young man quickly said: “Shop assistant, serve the dishes quickly, and heat a pot of old wine while you’re at it.”
“Uncle Seven, sit, sit.”
The two sat down together. The visitor pulled a crumpled cigarette case from his pocket, shook out a cheap hand-rolled cigarette, put it in his mouth, and fumbled for matches.
His hands were rough and large, covered in calluses, unconsciously scratching at the table.
This was the organization’s contact code, meaning: I am the team leader of the third group of the Shanghai Action Team, Chai Dao.
Han Zhu’s hand also lightly scratched twice on the table, simply introducing himself: I am the courier, Han Zhu.
Seeing the other’s response, Chai Dao took a drag on his cigarette and said: “Fatty Three, after so many years, why suddenly think of coming to Shanghai to find Uncle Seven?”
“I know you came to Shanghai two years ago, but people say we’re on different levels now. I shouldn’t contact you.”
“So, for so many years, I haven’t had the nerve to come bother you.”
“What does it mean that you’re suddenly treating me to a meal today?”
Chai Dao’s meaning was clear: our action team and you are not on the same line, so horizontal contact shouldn’t happen in principle. Are you suddenly looking for me because there’s something important?
Han Zhu picked up the teapot on the table and poured water into the tea bowl in front of Chai Dao: “Uncle Seven, you’re scolding me.”
“No matter how well I do in Shanghai, I’m still your nephew.”
“But, I do have something today that I want to trouble you to handle.”
Chai Dao took a deep drag on his cigarette, extinguished the cigarette butt, and laughed: “I knew you wouldn’t come to the three treasures hall unless you needed something.”
“Whatever it is you need Uncle Seven’s help with, just say it. We’re from the same place. If I can do it, I certainly will.”
Han Zhu took a sip of tea and said: “I heard Uncle Seven used to specialize in selling rat poison in the countryside. You’re good at catching rats.”
“I’m working for Boss Chen now, and there’s been a problem in the warehouse lately.”
“A few days ago, goods headed to Nanjing were gnawed by rats, and then another batch had issues.”
“The shipper compared the traces of damage on the goods and found they were still gnawed by rats.”
“See, do you have time to help us catch some rats?”
Chai Dao was slightly stunned and pondered: “Unlikely, right? There haven’t been rats in your warehouse for a long time. Are you sure the goods were all gnawed by rats?”
Han Zhu nodded, “Our boss is certain that the problem with the goods in the warehouse is because rats appeared.”
“This is the address of our warehouse. See if it’s convenient for you?”
Chai Dao took the note from Han Zhu, quickly glanced at the information on it, then casually placed it in his palm. While drinking tea, he stuffed the note into his mouth and swallowed it.
Chai Dao set down the tea bowl and sighed: “Oh man, it’s been years since I did this. But don’t worry, Uncle Seven’s skills haven’t rusted.”
“I’ll go back and prepare. Best to find the rat nest and see if there are any rat pups inside.”
Han Zhu thanked him repeatedly: “Then I’ll trouble Uncle Seven. About the fee…”
“We’re all our own people, what talk of money? Just helping catch a rat, that’s a small matter.”
“Then it’s settled. I’ll go back and prepare. I won’t eat the meal.” Chai Dao stood up and said: “Tell your boss, since rats have appeared in the warehouse, some things need attention. Don’t let the rats devour everything.”
Without waiting for Han Zhu to try to keep him, Chai Dao picked up the felt hat beside him, put it on, and quickly left the restaurant.
Their conversation didn’t avoid the other guests on the second floor at all, but everyone simply thought it was a warehouse manager out looking for someone to deal with the rat infestation in the warehouse.
After all, at this time, there really were people who specialized in this, selling rat poison, cockroach poison, and such things.
So, in everyone’s eyes, this man called Uncle Seven was just an ordinary guy who used to sell rat poison in the countryside and now pulled a rickshaw in Shanghai.
No one could imagine that this was actually a conversation between two agents.
