Chapter 57: I Have My Own Plan
Chongqing, Yangjiaping, Lu Family Teahouse.
The most numerous inside Chongqing are this kind of teahouse, which can also be considered Chongqing’s unique culture.
Someone once did statistics, in Chongqing’s three hundred and sixteen alleys there are a total of two thousand five hundred and sixty-nine teahouses in operation.
On average eight per street, some bustling riverside places even exceed thirty.
Of course, the existence of so many teahouses is also related to Chongqing’s longstanding commerce, leisure, and other cultural customs.
It can be said that every trade has its own exclusive teahouse.
The teahouses around Mi Tingzi are trading places for the grain industry, the teahouses in front of Zhang Fei Temple gather butchers, the “Upper Three Yuan” teahouse on Fish Market Street is a trading venue for the oil and dried vegetable industry, and the teahouse on Dingxin Street specializes in cloth transactions.
Not only that, trade guilds also negotiate prices and mediate disputes through teahouses; the former medicinal materials guild once forced a British merchant insurance company here to compensate for fire losses.
It can be said that teahouses in the Republic of China Era were both small “fangcun jianghu” and long-circulating “folk museums.”
Lu Family Teahouse, like many teahouses, has simple decor, affordable prices, and a small stage in the middle of the teahouse where every few days they invite some Sichuan opera actors or storytellers over to perform.
The performance fee is included in the tea charge.
Dusk is heavy, many neighbors after a day of labor enter the teahouse in groups of three or five to relax.
A gong sounds, the show begins, the front is extremely lively, but at this moment Boss Lu leaves the crowd and runs all the way to the backyard.
The backyard has one east wing room and one west wing room each; Boss Lu arrives at the east wing room door and gently knocks.
“Come in.” A clear and beautiful voice sounds from inside.
Boss Lu pushes open the door, only to see a woman about twenty years old applying makeup in front of a mirror.
And strangely, this woman is not making herself prettier with makeup, but instead working on her face to make her complexion deathly pale, almost bloodless and sickly.
The woman looks up at the visitor and says indifferently: “Xiong Ye-kun, you shouldn’t be here at this time.”
Xiong Ye Liangping, the North China Information Section agent using the alias Lu Qiaosong, frowns slightly and says: “Nanta Major, I must remind you that my rank is Lieutenant Colonel, and you seem to owe me at least basic respect.”
“Respect?” Nantian Yangzi stands up, looking at herself in the mirror; the expression on her face paired with her bloodless face is like Lin Daiyu from Dream of the Red Chamber, evoking pity at first sight.
However, after turning her head, she has another expression: “Xiong Ye Lieutenant Colonel, not every man has the qualification to get into my bed.”
“Moreover, you must remember, even if you are a Lieutenant Colonel, I am the person in charge of this plan.”
“If you have any dissatisfaction, you can report to Colonel Shayama now and apply to transfer out of Chongqing.”
Baka, this woman actually dares to despise me like this.
Xiong Ye Liangping suppresses the anger in his heart and says: “But I must remind Nanta Major,”
“Your mission this time is to cooperate with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to carry out the surrender plan.”
“Imai Takeo has already made contact with Gao Zhongwu and Tao Xisheng, while we have made no progress.”
“If it really comes to investigation, I’m afraid even your teacher General Dohihara cannot protect you.”
Nantian Yangzi frowns slightly, a hint of disdain flashing in her eyes: “Just with the surrender plan you designed?”
“Xiong Ye-kun, I really don’t know how to evaluate the person who made the plan.”
“I suspect when his mother gave birth to him, she threw away the baby and raised the placenta.”
“Otherwise, how could he design such a brainless plan.”
“When you selected targets, did you only look at information without understanding all his details?”
“Do you really think he would stay if he wanted to leave? That Gentleman’s indecision cannot be swayed by just a few words.”
“Now the Imperial Army and the Blue Army are confronting each other in Xuzhou; based on the current results of the fighting, the Empire’s Action Department has not achieved the expected effect.”
“This has also led That Gentleman to still hold a sliver of illusion about the Blue Army; contacting him at this time, to clear himself, he will immediately notify the Central Bureau of Investigation and Statistics or the Military Statistics Bureau.”
“I can tell you very clearly that right now, against him, we are still short a few cards in hand.”
“Short a few cards? Is that your excuse for frequently going out to hook up with men?” Xiong Ye Liangping sneers: “Nanta Major, your skills in dealing with men are famous to my ears.”
“However, I hope you don’t forget your identity because of men.”
Nantian Yangzi shows no sign of anger; instead, she steps forward, unbuttons two buttons of her top, revealing a section of snow-white skin.
This extremely simple action causes Xiong Ye Liangping to unconsciously swallow saliva.
Subconsciously reaching out to explore, but just as his hand extends halfway, he feels a hard object pressing against his lower body.
“Xiong Ye-kun, you’d better pray it has no reaction; if it does, I’ll shoot it off right now.”
Xiong Ye Liangping’s face changes drastically, sweat beading on his forehead: “Nanta Major, if there’s something, let’s talk slowly; why resort to a weapon.”
“Tch, man.” Nantian Yangzi scoffs, unhurriedly puts away the exquisite small pistol in her hand, pushes open the door, and walks out dashingly.
Xiong Ye Liangping watches that graceful figure, but what rises in his heart is not lust but anger.
“Baka Yalu, one day I will make you kneel before me.”
Chongqing, Yue She.
Under the blue tile eaves, the plaque with the two gilded characters “Yue She” has faded, the wooden sign soaked black by Chongqing’s mist, with fine cracks at the edges, yet still stubbornly hanging between two mottled vermilion lacquer columns.
Lights are just coming on, the time when common people relax and have fun.
People come and go in the teahouse; when the carved wooden door is pushed, the hinges emit a long “creak,” as if telling the entering and exiting customers about this teahouse’s thirty years of vicissitudes.
At the teahouse entrance, Boss Zhao Fugui rubs his hands nonstop while looking at the bustling street, as if anxiously waiting for something.
Suddenly, a rickshaw appears in the distance; seeing the girl sitting in it, Zhao Fugui clearly breathes a sigh of relief.
The rickshaw stops at the teahouse entrance; before the girl can pay, Zhao Fugui has already stepped forward and hands five mao to the rickshaw puller.
He mutters nonstop: “Little aunt, you’ve finally come; if you didn’t, Deputy Commander Jiang would tear down this teahouse.”
Nantian Yangzi smooths her ear-length short hair, the corner of her mouth slightly raising as she reassures: “Boss, don’t worry, Deputy Commander Jiang won’t do that.”
“Alright, alright, no more talk; little aunt, hurry upstairs.” Zhao Fugui pushes Nantian Yangzi into the teahouse, not forgetting to instruct: “Serve Deputy Commander Jiang well; my life and fortune are all on you, little aunt.”
Nantian Yangzi says nothing; as she turns, a strange glint flashes in her eyes.
Only seasoned old hunters could discern that this is the expression of a hunter seeing prey.
Hunting moment, are you ready.
