Chapter 111: Yin Soldiers Borrowing Grain
“Damn.” Seeing that the negotiation had failed, Zhao Peng let out a furious roar, leaped forward with all his might, crashed through the nearby rain canopy, and landed on the ground beside it.
It had to be said that the potential a person bursts out at the moment of death was extraordinarily immense.
Zhao Peng was just a frail scholar, who could be perfectly described as having no more strength than a chicken, yet at this moment, the power he unleashed was also extremely astonishing.
However, this level of reaction was utterly insufficient in front of Old Stick from the Dog-Beating Squad.
Chai Dao raised his right hand and gently pulled, a coil of flexible yet deadly steel wire appearing between his fingertips.
Immediately after, Chai Dao took a vigorous step and appeared behind Zhao Peng, his arm tracing a short arc.
The steel wire whistled through the air with deadly intent, looping precisely around Zhao Peng’s throat…
“Urgh, heh.” A short, suffocating grunt squeezed out from deep in Zhao Peng’s throat, like a frog with its neck stomped and broken.
Zhao Peng’s hands instinctively clawed frantically at his own neck, his nails scraping against the steel wire and his flesh with a teeth-grating screech.
Chai Dao’s hands suddenly tightened, the steel wire going taut, sinking deep into the flesh of Zhao Peng’s neck and carving out a terrifying bloody gash.
Zhao Peng’s eyeballs bulged horrifically from suffocation and agony, his eyes threaded with blood.
“Hey.” Chai Dao exhaled sharply, his arm muscles bulging as he crossed his arms with all his strength in a fierce twist.
“Crack,” the sound of bones, cartilage, and windpipe shattering instantly under immense pressure.
As the sound rang out, Zhao Peng’s body went limp and sagged down, instantly lifeless.
Chai Dao spat out a mouthful of stale air, rummaged over his body, looted all his valuables, and disguised it to look like a robbery murder.
Confirming he had left no clues behind, Chai Dao muscled the corpse and shoved it into the Suzhou River.
The night was ink-black; Chai Dao clapped his hands, pulled down his felt hat, pulled up that rickshaw marked “Wang Ji Rickshaw Service,” and turned to vanish into the deep, dark alleys of the warehouse district behind him.
*************
Shanghai, Wanxiang Ju.
A black Buick Sedan pulled steadily to a stop at the door; after getting out, Chen Yang opened the trunk and took out the gift that had been prepared long ago.
Looking up at the Wanxiang Ju sign under the eaves, Chen Yang carried the gift and walked slowly inside.
“Guest, how can I help you?” Shop assistant Li Dabao might not be very talented, but after long immersion, his eye for people was still very sharp.
It had to be known that not just anyone could eat this bowl of antiques rice.
First off, you needed a good eye; things in this trade were real or fake, and without some discernment, you’d lose so much even your mom wouldn’t recognize you.
The Chen Yang in front of him was dressed brightly and sharply, exuding an air of refinement; he was clearly some family’s noble young master.
Unfortunately, all the valuable things in Wanxiang Ju had been sold off by Li Lang, otherwise, they could have made a killing today.
“I’m looking for Boss Li.” Chen Yang replied politely.
“You’re looking for my dad?” Li Dabao sized up Chen Yang; people in their line had good memories—if you couldn’t even remember the provenance of antiques, what was the point?
“Guest, this is your first time here, right? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
Li Dabao smiled and said, “My dad hasn’t personally received guests in a long time. What brings you?”
Chen Yang said slowly, “No visiting the Three Treasures Hall unless there’s something; I have important business to discuss with Boss Li.”
Li Dabao nodded slightly and said, “Guest, please wait a moment; I’ll go call him.”
With that, Li Dabao instructed the shop assistant behind the counter and hurried to the back hall to fetch him.
Moments later, a middle-aged man emerged, wearing a thin shirt jacket on top and gray training pants below.
The middle-aged man toyed with a string of beads in his hand as he walked.
Though it was the hottest days of summer, the man showed not a drop of sweat, his face ruddy, his presence extraordinary, with something of the air of a reclusive master.
Li Lang sized up Chen Yang and suddenly stirred inside, as if remembering something: “Boss Chen, I never expected you’d come in person.”
Chen Yang was somewhat surprised; he had never met Li Lang, yet the man recognized him at a glance.
These wandering folk really had sharp eyes.
“Boss Li, calling on you without greeting first is rather abrupt.”
Chen Yang handed over the gift in his hand: “A modest gift, unworthy of respect.”
Li Lang clasped his fists repeatedly: “Boss Chen, what are you saying? Guests like you I couldn’t even invite; for you to visit my humble shop truly brings it luster.”
“Dabao, bring out that box of Biluochun Tea from the counter. Boss Chen, please, let’s talk in the inner hall.”
“Boss Li, please…”
The two deferred to each other and entered Wanxiang Ju’s back hall together.
Entering the inner hall, Li Dabao served the two the brewed Biluochun Tea and tactfully withdrew, hanging the curtain on his way out.
Li Lang took a sip of tea water and said, “Boss Chen, you are my second brother’s benefactor. I’ve long wanted to visit your residence to thank you in person for your patronage, but after thinking it over, I decided against it.”
“I was just afraid we’d have some discourtesy that would put you in a difficult spot.”
“Right, what brings you today?”
Chen Yang set down his tea bowl and said, “Boss Li, our cooperation hasn’t been long, but from these few deals, I see you keep to the rules.”
“So, I’d like you to help me with something: I want to launder a sum of money. Do you have a method?”
Li Lang said evenly, “How much?”
Chen Yang held up four fingers: “This number. Any method?”
Li Lang frowned: “Four hundred thousand silver dollars—that’s no small sum, but it’s not impossible; just the expenses will be a bit high.”
Chen Yang wasn’t at all surprised that Li Lang guessed the exact amount right away, because four thousand or even forty thousand silver dollars weren’t worth his trip.
Only four hundred thousand silver dollars matched his status.
“Please advise, Boss Li.”
Li Lang took a sip of tea and said, “Simple: find a chamber of commerce to hold a charity gala for disaster relief under that name.”
“Auction a batch of porcelain items at the gala, have a business firm underwrite it.”
“Then have someone take the items away; the business firm compensates, you supply the money to them, it passes through once, and the money’s laundered—just three to five points that way.”
Chen Yang was stunned upon hearing this; this routine was so familiar.
Ghost soldiers borrowing grain? Pfft, more like ghost soldiers borrowing treasure.
It was the same ploy as the Fire Dragon warehouse burning before…
Seeing Chen Yang hesitate, Li Lang thought he had concerns and smiled: “If you think wandering folk aren’t reliable, just grab two drunk old men off the street to bump into it.”
“Anyway, no matter what, as long as the things are broken, it’s fine.”
Chen Yang nodded and said, “That’s a method, but I wonder if there’ll be any trouble?”
Li Lang understood what Chen Yang meant: “Boss Chen, antiques are things that have no fixed market price.”
“A Yuan dynasty blue-and-white porcelain piece is priced at three thousand silver dollars, or thirty thousand—it’s all just whatever someone fancies.”
“As long as everyone sees the price it auctions for, plus someone on-site guaranteeing it.”
“Even if something goes wrong with the items, that’s not your problem.”
