Chapter 233: Say Thank You
“President Omura’s attitude is not the key.” Abe Mitsuhiro said in a low and deep voice: “Mr. Chen, you must know that any organization needs to compromise in the face of the Imperial Holy War.”
“No matter how powerful the South Manchuria Railway is, it is still part of the Empire.”
Chen Yang smiled slightly, but felt somewhat disdainful in his heart.
The arrogance of the South Manchuria Railway is not just talk; the Kwantung Army’s biggest economic pillar and source of materials is the South Manchuria Railway.
The South Manchuria Railway’s influence almost occupies eighty percent of the North; they have frantically invested in retail, education, energy development, manufacturing, and other real economies in the North.
Its economic output can rival Japan’s domestic GDP.
Moreover, the South Manchuria Railway’s biggest supporter now is the Foreign Minister, Matsuoka Yosuke.
Would they easily let others dominate the most important transportation line?
Unless their goal is not this…
Abe Mitsuhiro put down the tea cup: “Mr. Chen, prepare for the transportation plan first. Of course, before that, there is one thing you need to do first.”
“Your Excellency Sato means to clear out the things in your hands first; we will hold on for a while temporarily.”
Chen Yang said slowly: “Is Your Excellency Sato afraid that Yasuda Nobuo will become our obstacle?”
Abe Mitsuhiro shook his head: “Not just that. Your Excellency Suzuki, the Minister of Finance, has just submitted the fiscal report for the first quarter of this year.”
“Just the expenditure for the first quarter is sixty percent higher than in previous years; this abnormal consumption has already caught Your Excellency Kujo’s attention.”
“Your Excellency Sato hopes we can go long-term and not worry about temporary gains and losses.”
“Understood.” Chen Yang nodded slightly: “I will handle it as soon as possible.”
“Then that’s it for now; I will head back first.” Abe Mitsuhiro stood up, bowed slightly to Chen Yang, and turned to leave the private room.
The private room door closed, and the next moment it opened again.
Chen Yang did not look up; a figure walked with graceful steps to the opposite side, sat down slowly, and gently placed the teapot on the small stove.
“What do you think?” Chen Yang asked softly.
Lin Su replied gently: “I am just a little woman; I don’t know what you officials are really up to.”
“However, I always feel this matter is not as simple as Staff Officer Abe says.”
“Smart.” Chen Yang put down the tea cup: “They are preparing to have someone else pick the peaches.”
“Let me clear out all the inventory materials; this is to leave no evidence.”
“However, they are underestimating me a bit and overestimating Yasuda Nobuo.”
“This web is not something just anyone can play with.”
Lin Su did not answer; she just picked up the steaming teapot, poured a cup of tea for Chen Yang, and then smiled: “Do we need to do anything?”
“We also have some leverage in our hands now.”
Chen Yang waved his hand: “It hasn’t reached that point yet.”
“A trump card is only a trump card when kept in hand; once revealed, it’s hard to cover it back up…”
“They think an outsider monk chants scriptures easily; let them try how much this outsider monk weighs.”
“Alright, I should head back too.”
With that, Chen Yang stood up, and Lin Su thoughtfully fetched his clothes and helped him put them on.
“By the way, have Song Zushan go greet Jin Dayou and the others; pause the materials business for a while.”
“The higher-ups have spoken; we have to give them some face, even if just for show…”
Lin Su patted Chen Yang’s shoulder to make the suit look smoother and nodded slowly: “I remember…”
Shanghai, Huangpu Beach, Cathay Hotel…
The “Blue Hall” suite on the top floor of the Cathay Hotel, from here one can overlook the brilliant lights of the entire Bund!
In the room, the thick Persian carpet absorbed all footsteps; the huge crystal chandelier illuminated the room as bright as day, and the air was filled with the rich aroma of top-grade Cuban cigars and expensive perfume.
Dr. Fellman, the German Consul General in Shanghai, wore a impeccably tailored dark gray three-piece suit and sat relaxed on the sofa covered with gold thread brocade.
A lit Havana cigar was between his fingers; his gray-blue eyes peered through gold-rimmed glasses, silently scrutinizing Chen Yang sitting opposite.
Completely different from the tension at Moonlight Sand, at this moment Chen Yang seemed to have returned to the role he played most effortlessly: a businessman with connections everywhere on the Shanghai Bund.
He wore a low-key luxurious dark navy striped suit, with a confident smile of a successful businessman at the corner of his mouth, as if just here to discuss an ordinary business deal.
Two beautiful waitresses in white stand-collar qipaos silently served coffee and German Black Forest ham cold cuts to the two, then retreated like shadows.
“Mr. Chen, thank you for your invitation.” Fellman’s English carried a standard Berlin accent; he leisurely picked up a small exquisite silver fork, speared a piece of paper-thin ham, his movements elegant and proper, like performing some diplomatic ceremony.
“In this special period, being able to enjoy such exquisite cuisine at the Cathay is truly cherished.”
On the words “special period,” he slightly emphasized his tone, his gray-blue gaze meaningfully glancing at the towering masts of Japanese Navy warships in the distance outside the window.
Chen Yang did not respond immediately, just quietly watching the other.
Fellman took over from Ambassador Trautmann in November of the 26th year of the Republic of China to become the Consul General in Shanghai.
Trautmann was a diplomat relatively friendly to China.
When the Japanese intended to invade China, it was he who stepped in to mediate with the Japanese, hoping they would abandon military aggression and resolve disputes at the negotiating table.
But Trautmann still underestimated the Japanese cunning.
They superficially promised Trautmann to consider peaceful negotiations, but then marched on Nanjing after capturing Shanghai.
After Nanjing fell, Trautmann was recalled by his country due to the failed mediation.
In March last year, Japan and Germany signed an alliance agreement, and Germany stopped weapons aid to China.
Trautmann repeatedly advised the little mustache not to believe the Japanese, but the little mustache persisted and halted all aid to China.
But this decision plunged Germany into an energy crisis.
Resources like boar bristles, tung oil, and tungsten ore exported from China were almost all taken by the Americans.
China’s export share to the United States even reached an astonishing eighty-five percent.
The Americans then tripled the prices of the materials and sold them to the Germans, leaving the German Minister of Finance speechless in anger.
“Dr. Fellman is too polite.” Chen Yang extinguished his cigarette, leisurely picked up the exquisite bone china coffee cup, took a sip, with a flawless professional smile on his face.
“Germany, as an important friendly nation and a staunch defender of international order, should be provided with the highest level of comfort in Shanghai no matter how it changes.”
“Maintaining order requires power.” Fellman put down the silver fork, gently dabbed the corner of his mouth with the napkin, his movements meticulous. “And the foundation of power is often those solid materials buried deep underground.”
He raised his eyes, gaze straight at Chen Yang, the lenses slightly reflecting light, concealing the sharp edge deep in his eyes. “I hear Mr. Chen happens to have a batch of ‘solid foundations’ that are quite interesting?”
The smile on Chen Yang’s face did not change at all: “Mr. Fellman, your information is indeed well-informed. There is a batch of top-quality tungsten sand ore from southern Jiangxi, currently totaling about 50 tons, with ideal particle size and tungsten content.”
“Originally, they were marked with a ‘specific label’（ for shipment to Japan）… but recently, some new ‘route plans’ have changed, requiring the inventory to be… flexibly handled.”
Fellman nodded slightly without a change in expression. Of course he knew who the “previous client” for this batch was; the Japanese hunger for strategic materials was an open secret in the entire Far East intelligence circle.
That Chen Yang could “flexibly handle” it meant he had reached some higher-level understanding with the Japanese military controlling Shanghai.
“Flexible handling… very much in line with the spirit of international commerce.” Fellman slowly exhaled a smoke ring, his eyes growing deeper.
“You know the Empire’s needs in industrial manufacturing. High-quality ‘solid foundations’ are crucial for producing precise tools sufficient to maintain peace. We have always sought stable and reliable sources.”
“That couldn’t be more perfect.” Chen Yang leaned forward slightly, entering the core of the business negotiation. “This batch is of excellent quality, far superior to general market-circulated goods.”
“Given the current… complexity of transportation channels and your country’s consistent pursuit of quality.” He deliberately paused.
“I am willing to transfer ownership at $875 per ton. As sincerity for long-term cooperation, this price includes all ‘domestic transfer’ risk premiums.”
Fellman frowned: “Mr. Chen, your price is about 30% higher than the international market price.”
Fellman was right; the Republic government supplied tungsten ore to the United States at about $650 per ton at this time, or two thousand silver dollars per ton.
While Chen Yang acquired it from the Communist Party at only fifty silver dollars per hundred jin, equivalent to one thousand silver dollars per ton.
These fifty tons of tungsten ore were still at the price from the last transaction with Miss Shen.
According to the Soviet area’s intention, this price could still be negotiated.
It was not that they didn’t know the market rates, but because tungsten ore itself was a strategic material, basically sealed tight by the Japanese.
Only Chen Yang had the ability and connections to use his transportation network to smuggle tungsten ore from southern Jiangxi and parts of Hunan to Shanghai undetected.
Others might have the intention but not the way.
Moreover, trading on Shanghai turf, if seized, would just benefit the Japanese.
“Mr. Fellman, these are not the old days.” Chen Yang elegantly set down the coffee cup: “Considering wartime premiums and transportation risks, I think this price is relatively reasonable.”
Of course, at this time, $875 was indeed not expensive compared to prices after World War II broke out later.
It must be known that from the 29th to 33rd year of the Republic, the Republic government’s export quotation had reached four thousand five hundred silver dollars per ton, equivalent to $1,500 per ton.
More than double the current price, while tungsten ore shipped to the United States ultimately quoted less than $900, with the price difference.
Fellman’s fingers tapped lightly on the sofa armrest, making faint tapping sounds. This price was not cheap, especially with Germany’s own huge economic pressures.
But he knew better the actual value of this tungsten sand; it was the throat material sustaining the military industry!
Moreover, Chen Yang obtaining and smoothly offloading it bypassing Japanese control was value in itself.
Acquiring it was not only to meet industrial needs but also a “certification” and binding of Chen Yang’s extremely scarce underground materials channel.
“$875…” Fellman spoke slowly, as if savoring each syllable of the number.
He did not haggle immediately but casually asked: “So, about the final destination of this ‘domestic transfer’… or rather, its ‘ticket’?”
This was the key of keys.
With the goods in Shanghai, he wanted to know what Chen Yang was capable of to ship it out without arousing Japanese suspicion.
Chen Yang had been waiting for this question. A confident smile appeared on his face: “Mr. Fellman, you and Mr. Midler from the consulate’s sea shipping document issuance department are both… experts familiar with international shipping regulations.”
“I believe legitimate documents issued by your consulate for key raw materials needed for normal production of German-funded companies in China… to Hamburg Port will ensure this batch clears port with maximum efficiency.”
“After all, who would suspect official channel documents signed by the consulate? This can also maximize… avoiding unnecessary trouble.”
Fellman was stunned; Chen Yang was openly suggesting using diplomatic privileges to forge documents, turning the tungsten sand into legitimate “imported” raw materials for Germany, using the consulate’s customs privileges to pass inspection.
Implicitly, it pulled the German consulate into the water to share the risk.
The phrase “avoiding unnecessary trouble” referred to those Japanese Military Police watching the Shanghai Wharf.
Fellman’s hand twitched slightly; cigar ash fell on the expensive carpet, and the gaze behind his lenses instantly became hawk-like sharp, staring dead at Chen Yang.
This proposal was bold to the point of madness!
Using consulate diplomatic privileges for open smuggling, forging trade documents—this was far beyond simple commercial violation; if exposed, it would be a serious diplomatic incident, enough to get him recalled or worse.
The smile on Chen Yang’s face did not waver.
He was gambling on Germany’s extreme thirst for strategic resources, on this old-school diplomat Fellman’s adventurous spirit and pragmatism deep down, and on Germany’s deeper considerations of Japan’s “northern advance” strategy at this moment.
News of the Kwantung Army moving to the Far East region absolutely could not escape the German intelligence agencies’ eyes.
If the Japanese could achieve results on the Far East battlefield, it would pin down part of Soviet military power, which was all gain and no loss for the Führer.
So, this deal was beneficial for Germany from any angle.
The only shortfall was that Chen Yang’s quotation somewhat exceeded Fellman’s psychological expectation.
Time slowly passed in the stagnant air. Outside the window came the low and deep, drawn-out whistle sound of the Huangpu River.
Fellman slowly extinguished the cigar in his hand. He did not reject immediately but stood up, walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, back to Chen Yang, looking at the bustling Shanghai Bund below like an anthill.
After a long while, he spoke in a slightly hoarse but restored diplomatic poise tone:
“Mr. Chen, ‘supporting legitimate trade and ensuring normal operations of German enterprises in China’ is one of the consulate’s important duties.” His response was watertight, full of officialese.
Then, he turned around, gaze back on Chen Yang. “As for the specific plan you mentioned for ‘ensuring port departure efficiency,’ the consulate’s business department… will seriously study its feasibility.”
No explicit promise, but “seriously study feasibility” meant a green light!
Everyone in this circle knew the rule: no explicit rejection meant agreement.
Immediately after, Fellman added meaningfully: “As long as… the transaction terms are ultimately satisfactory to both sides.”
“The materials will be directly loaded by German merchant ships at the designated berth.”
A silent deal was basically settled amid the cigar haze and coffee aroma.
Chen Yang stood up, smile unchanged: “Of course, the purpose of the transaction is win-win; as soon as the consulate’s ‘study’ yields a final result, we can arrange for the materials to appear at your designated wharf anytime.”
“Mr. Fellman, you are truly a qualified diplomat; I believe our cooperation will be very pleasant.”
“By the way, if you need large quantities of materials, we might be able to cooperate long-term.”
Fellman smiled satisfactorily upon hearing this: “Of course, I hope to receive no less than three hundred tons of ore every month.”
“Does Mr. Chen have any issue with this number?”
“Of course not; you know, for me, this is nothing.”
“Happy Cooperation.” Chen Yang extended his hand; Fellman also extended his, and the two hands clasped tightly under the gorgeous crystal chandelier.
Several days later, Shanghai, Avenue Joffre.
Avenue Joffre, near the Cathay Cinema, a quite atmospheric coffee shop.
Afternoon sunlight slanted through the glass window onto the round table covered with snow-white linen tablecloth.
The air was filled with the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee.
Inside the coffee shop, the delicate clink of bone china cups and saucers sounded occasionally, with soft French conversation drifting from the next table.
In the background flowed Chopin’s nocturne from the gramophone.
This was the elegant heart of the French Concession, a salon for playboys and socialites.
Miss Shen sat by the window, wearing a well-tailored smoky gray velvet qipao, a small exquisite pearl brooch at the collar, draped in a high-quality mink collar short jacket.
Her jet-black hair loosely pinned up, revealing a smooth forehead and neck.
Her slender hand in lace gloves elegantly held a small silver spoon, gently stirring the Viennese coffee with milk foam in front of her.
In the sunlight, her profile was soft, brows and eyes like a painting, temperament serene and gentle, the very image of a young lady from a prominent family.
Only, in the depths of those eyes occasionally glancing at the door, a faint coolness and sharpness would flash.
At exactly two o’clock, a car brake sounded at the coffee shop door; moments later, Chen Yang pushed the door in, wearing a well-fitted dark gray British striped suit, tie knotted impeccably.
His gaze swept the room and quickly locked on Miss Shen by the window: “Miss Shen, you arrived first.”
“Mr. Chen is too polite; please sit.” A standard, slightly shy lady-like smile curved Miss Shen’s lips as she gestured to the opposite seat.
The waiter came quickly; Chen Yang ordered a black coffee.
Under the table it seemed calm, but the clash on the table had already begun.
The instant the waiter turned to leave, Chen Yang’s hand on the table, under the stack of snow-white napkins, briefly flashed a gesture: two fingers crossed simulating a ship’s mast, then returned to normal. This was the signal for the “Sea Lion.”
Miss Shen lifted her coffee cup, elegantly masking half her lips with the rim, eyes on a black Austin car passing outside the window, casually mentioning the weather: “I hear there will be sea fog at the port tomorrow.”
Miss Shen meant: should they proceed with the next cooperation?
“$290 per ton,” Chen Yang’s voice was not loud but clear.
Miss Shen did not respond, her gaze seemingly drawn to a bouquet of vibrant roses at the next table.
She gently stirred her coffee with the small silver spoon; ripples spread in the white porcelain cup: “Mr. Chen, the price I heard is not this.”
After a half-silence, Miss Shen finally spoke: “You quoted nearly $900 per ton to the Germans, yet buy our goods at one-third the price?”
Chen Yang frowned slightly: “Miss Shen, what are you trying to say?”
Miss Shen took a sip of coffee: “I think this price is unreasonable; shouldn’t you raise it a bit?”
“Heh, good goods naturally fetch good prices, but I think you prefer this.” Chen Yang calmly took from his suit inner pocket a small jewelry box wrapped in deep blue velvet, as if a gift for a loved one.
“Miss Shen, see if you like what’s inside?”
Miss Shen extended her lace-gloved hand, opened the jewelry box; inside was not the expected ring, but a note.
It read: “Sulfonamide, surgical knife, radio core, ammunition, rifle, light machine gun.”
Miss Shen’s expression changed slightly; the exquisite small silver spoon in her left hand froze at the rim of the snow-white bone china cup.
Under the sunlight, the spoon handle’s reflected light was somewhat glaring.
Her thick lashes lowered, staring at the brown swirl she had stirred in the cup, as if time had frozen in that swirl.
Chen Yang said calmly: “I know you need these things badly; I can get these materials for you and deliver them to the designated location, to your people.”
“The price is, starting this month, you must provide at least one thousand tons of tungsten ore per quarter, still at $290 per ton.”
“I will provide corresponding quantities of materials based on what you supply.”
Miss Shen’s mind was in turmoil; compared to making money, these materials were what the organization needed.
Moreover, with the Japanese Army sealing everywhere now, many materials couldn’t get through.
Chen Yang smiled: “No rush; you can think it over slowly. By the way, for helping you so much, shouldn’t you say thank you?”
Miss Shen’s face stiffened.
One thousand tons of tungsten ore, a $3 million deal; you take $2 million, leave us $1 million, and I have to thank you?
Shameless.
