Chapter 171: Banquet
Shanghai, Huangpu Beach Road No. 1, Asia Oil Company.
The orange-red sunlight of the evening filtered through the two-meter-high steel windows on the top floor of the Asia Building, casting mottled light and shadows on the heavy rosewood executive desk.
Shell Oil Asia Director Medillen’s massive frame sank into the genuine leather chair, his fingers irritably tapping the desktop.
In front of him was an urgent telegram about the Manchuria crude oil transportation being blocked again due to warfare.
“South Manchuria Railway, which claims to be the most efficient and reliable transportation organization, actually made this kind of low-level mistake.”
Medillen’s voice was very angry; the transportation line being blocked meant that their sales volume for the quarter from July to September would drop significantly.
The homeland now places great importance on the Asia market; if expectations are not met, he, as the Asia Region director, would face the risk of being dismissed at any time.
What on earth are these little brats up to…
“Knock knock knock,” a knock at the door sounded.
“Come in.” Medillen heard the knock and said slowly.
A British man wearing a gray pinstripe suit, moving as lightly as a cat, glided silently into the office.
He held a silver tray in his hands, on which lay a single envelope. The envelope was made of exceptionally fine ivory-white thick cardstock with a subtle watermark, and at the seal was a small, clear emblem!
That was the lion emblem representing the Dutch Royal Family.
“Mr. Medillen, this was specially delivered from the Huafu Fund, marked for your personal attention.” The secretary’s voice carried a trace of solemnity.
Medillen saw the signature on the envelope and couldn’t help but pause; it clearly read “Aisha van Orange-William.”
Aisha, that Dutch princess…
Medillen frowned; after all, everyone knew that the Dutch Royal Family held certain shares in the Asia Oil Company.
The Asia Oil Company was also the Shell Company; its predecessor was the Shell Trading and Oil Company founded by Marcus.
Marcus, Samuel, was also the founder of Shell; he initially did foreign trade business related to seashells. In the mid-19th century, Shell joined the East India Company and drilled the first oil well in the Middle East, formally entering the oil energy industry.
For the company’s development, the Shell Company merged with the Dutch Royal Energy Company and was formally renamed Royal Dutch Shell Limited.
Among them, the Dutch Royal Family had held certain shares since the company’s founding.
Medillen’s thick eyebrows lifted slightly, temporarily pulling away from the troubles in Manchuria.
He picked up the heavy silver paper knife and neatly sliced along the edge of the envelope.
He drew out the contents of the envelope, which was also top-quality paper, bearing an elegant handwritten English invitation letter…
“Strange, why would Princess Aisha suddenly hold a banquet? She’s been in China for so long but rarely appears in public.”
“James,” Medillen’s voice returned to its usual booming tone, calling back the secretary waiting quietly to the side, “have we received any intelligence? Princess Aisha doesn’t seem like someone who enjoys crowds.”
Secretary James was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice: “I heard a bit of news before.”
“Two months ago, Mr. Taylor cooperated with a Chinese person and specifically made a trip to the United Kingdom.”
“According to intelligence from the UK side, Taylor seems to have been negotiating cooperation with the penicillin laboratory at the University of Sheffield.”
“Penicillin,” Medillen tapped his forehead and said: “I think I’ve heard of this thing.”
“As far as I know, it was a discovery by Sir Fleming at St. Mary’s Hospital, now ten years ago.”
“But, from my memory, aside from that bit of moldy green fuzz in the laboratory, it has never truly entered any hospital room.”
“The British themselves are still debating its actual value, even doubting whether it can be mass-produced.”
“Yes, sir.” James replied respectfully: “Up to now, this drug still exists only in theory.”
“Even the University of Sheffield itself is not optimistic; I heard they have already cut off Professor Flori’s research and development fund.”
“That’s what gave Mr. Taylor the opportunity to acquire all the patent transfer rights.”
“Mm, and not cheaply; the transfer contract issued by the Royal Medical Society specifies £100,000.”
£100,000 is nothing for a behemoth like Shell, but in the current situation, it’s no small sum.
“It seems our esteemed Your Highness is endorsing her own investment.”
Medillen seemed to understand something: “As the Chinese say, when carrying a sedan chair, everyone lifts together; since we’re in China, we naturally must follow local customs.”
“James, use the finest stationery, and on my behalf, reply to Your Highness: Honored by the invitation, it is our great privilege, and we shall attend on time.”
He paused, then added, “By the way, the wording must conform to royal etiquette standards, understood?”
“Yes, sir.” James gave a slight bow, preparing to withdraw.
“Wait,” Medillen called him back again, his gaze sharp, “also check whom else the princess has invited.”
“Especially… British Consul Carl, Abbott, and that ‘silver spoon gentleman’ Fellman from the German consulate.”
“Understood,” James nodded knowingly and withdrew silently.
The next day, evening, Huafu Hotel Peacock Hall.
The massive crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling painted with religious murals, its prisms refracting light like liquid gold, splashing across the Italian marble floor.
The air was filled with the mingled scents of expensive perfume, cigars, roasted meat, and brandy!
On the stage, a string ensemble played soothing jazz music; below, amid the fragrance of dresses and hair, glasses clinked in a scene of decadent, dreamlike revelry.
As the host of the banquet, Aisha was undoubtedly the queen of this event.
She wore a midnight-blue velvet long skirt with an off-the-shoulder design, accentuating her slender, elegant figure.
Around her neck hung a strand of perfectly round, lustrous South Sea pearl necklace, each pearl emitting a soft halo like moonlight, echoing the teardrop-shaped diamond earrings on her earlobes.
Her golden hair was elegantly coiled into a classical updo, with a few stray strands falling casually, like molten gold under the brilliant lights.
She stood on the slightly elevated platform in the center of the lobby, chin slightly raised, her face bearing a flawless noble smile.
Taking advantage of the moment the band paused, Aisha stepped to the center of the stage and said in fluent English: “Ladies and gentlemen!”
“Thank you all for taking the time to attend.”
Her deep blue eyes swept over the crowd, lingering briefly on the faces of several key figures, “For the common well-being of humanity, and for the early arrival of peace. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” the attendees raised their glasses in unison.
In one corner of the dance floor, Chen Yang watched the spirited Aisha on stage, a appreciative smile unconsciously appearing at the corner of his mouth…
