money player

As Sin Yiu-man and Poon Sau-sau exchanged pleasantries, the dishes they ordered began to be served. The two ate while talking quietly.

Sin Yiu-man didn't want Poon Sau-sau to stay in Hong Kong and embarrass Cham Pui-pei, so he broke her up with her lover, but her life in New York was arranged quite well.

I bought an apartment above the Raven Club at the other end of Mulberry Street, hired a personal maid from Hong Kong to come with me, and a housewife from Chinatown to cook. If I get tired of Chinese food and want to change things up, there's also a part-time Italian housewife who will come to my door with just a phone call.

Less than 30 meters to the left of the apartment, there was a Neapolitan tailor shop. Business was just so-so. Sin Yiu-man bought it and adjusted the business strategy. The main business was changed to custom-made loose-fitting suits, which were convenient for hiding guns and money. There was also a high-end business of custom-made bulletproof linings.

These days, we receive an average of four suit orders per day, with a net profit of around $40.

Further to the left of the Naples tailor shop, there is a shop called "Mama Rosa's Italian Fruits," which specializes in Italian fruits to satisfy the Italian immigrants' longing for the taste of home. Sin Yiu-man invested in the business, holding a 40% stake, and could receive a daily profit of about $14.

Pan Xiuxiu received the $2 annual dividend from both stores without any discounts. Bill's legal assistant handled the tax bills, and the bills were undoubtedly sent to Xian Yaowen.

Pan Xiuxiu spent all $2 on food, drink, and entertainment, without having to worry about daily expenses. She was living a very comfortable life, so why would she have any resentment towards Xian Yaowen?

If there was anything she was unhappy about, it was men. She was only thirty years old, but she hadn't been with a man for almost a year, and that was incredibly difficult.

Sin Yiu-man knew that his mother-in-law was inherently promiscuous and couldn't remain a widow, but he didn't want to be a considerate son-in-law and encourage his mother-in-law to find a companion.

Even if Cen Daniu is a sexist and doesn't value his daughter Peipei, it doesn't change the fact that they are father and daughter. Peipei still harbors resentment towards her mother-in-law. If he dares to encourage his mother-in-law to have a third spring, Peipei will definitely explode.

Without Peipei, he and Pan Xiuxiu would have no connection at all. It's important to distinguish between primary and secondary matters. Just provide them with good food and drink; there's no need to be too meticulous.

"There's an Italian restaurant called Rao's on East 114th Street, and the food there is really good."

“I know it’s just a few steps from where I live.”

"You live in Greenwich?"

"Ah."

"Why don't you stay at Peipei's house?"

"The company is in Greenwich, so living here is convenient..."

Before Sin Yiu-man could finish speaking, two gunshots rang out from the street outside. Judging from the sound, it was probably Smith & Wesson's Model-10, the short-barreled version, the same .38 caliber used by the New York police. It was hard to trace the source, and a gang-related revenge killing was taking place on the street.

These thoughts flashed through his mind as he crawled under the table.

Compared to him, Pan Xiuxiu seemed not to have heard the gunshot, calmly eating her noodles, but her eyes showed disbelief and disdain as she looked at Xian Yaowen's table, "This prospective son-in-law is really afraid of death."

After hiding under the table for a few seconds without any further gunshots or disturbances, Xian Yaowen emerged, sat up straight, and gave Pan Xiuxiu an awkward smile. "Mom, it seems a bit chaotic here. Why don't you move to Long Island?"

Pan Xiuxiu calmly said, "Little Italy just changed its gang leader. We've heard gunshots frequently in the last two months, but it's alright. They won't attack passersby. It's quite safe to live here."

"It's good to be safe."

Sin Yiu-man breathed a sigh of relief, but became increasingly wary.

To be honest, he was a little afraid of the .38. This gun was too unpredictable. There were very few experts who could hit exactly where they wanted to shoot. In the hands of most people, it was basically a matter of luck where they would hit the target from five meters away. Aiming at the legs and hitting the head was the usual operation. From ten meters away, it was usually safest to be the one being aimed at, but there was always the possibility of extraordinary performance.

In short, he hated the gun; it was too easy for him to be caught in the crossfire.

Looking out through the glass onto the street, I could see several more men wearing hats, roughly forming a circle, looking down, probably at the corpse on the ground.

A moment later, a car stopped in front of them, and two people got out. The first was an acquaintance, Paolo Castellano, Carlo Gambino's cousin, and the other was a young man in his twenties who resembled Carlo and was probably Carlo's eldest son, Thomas.

Castellano said a few words to one of the men, then looked around. His gaze naturally fell into the restaurant and met Sin Yiu-man's eyes. He nodded to Sin Yiu-man, then turned to "Thomas" next to him and said something. Then, four pairs of eyes fell into the restaurant.

Xian Yaowen beckoned, and Xie Zhanran leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"Go out and say hello; I'll be at the Raven Club tonight."

And so, Sin Yiu-man and Poon Sau-sau continued their meal quietly, undisturbed by anyone.

After finishing their meal, they called the waiter over to pay the bill, only to be told that the proprietress had instructed them to waive the bill. They then asked the waiter to convey their gratitude before leaving Mulberry Street.

Chen Jisheng walked out of Jinmanlou, still savoring the taste of the roast suckling pig.

The chef was exceptionally good today; the roast suckling pig tasted much better than usual. Just as he was wondering if he should come back for roast suckling pig again tonight, a young man walked towards him, glanced at his face, and then reached behind his back with both hands, revealing a large box in one hand, the left hand horizontal and the right hand vertical.

Chen Jisheng saw the dark muzzle of the gun and felt a chill run down his spine, thinking to himself, "It's over."

The horizontally mounted trigger was pulled, sweeping out a fan shape, while the vertical trigger was quickly pulled by a finger, and a bullet pierced Chen Jisheng's chest.

There was no slow motion, no sentimental background music; Chen Jisheng's chest was riddled with holes, and he was dead beyond any doubt.

No Bullets, real name Mei Zhidan, one of the three subordinates Luo Yin brought to New York, formerly a member of the Xianglong Unit.

After the orange alert was lifted, he left New York and was ordered to Mexicali to establish a tripartite armed force—the Counter-Terrorist Elite Special Operations Team, codenamed CS.

Tijuana.

Without bullets, he stood on the beach, watching several dark spots on the sea. A few minutes later, the dark spots grew larger, and faces came into view. One of them was particularly familiar to him—his old comrade-in-arms, Hua Liao.

A moment later, he hugged Hua Liao. "Chatterbox, you didn't die in Madagascar?"

"Damn it, even if you're dead, I won't die," Hua Liao said with a laugh.

"It's good that you're not dead, it's good that you're not dead. Why did the vice captain send you here?"

"I was just passing through."

"To carry out a secret mission?"

Hua Liao nodded.

"Leaving right away?"

Mei Zhidan didn't need to ask to guess where Hua Liao would be going on his mission. He himself was born in Tijuana and was eventually sent to Mexicali. Hua Liao was an overseas Chinese in Cuba. Regardless of whether his destination this time was Cuba or not, his final destination would definitely be Cuba.

"The boat will wait for me for half an hour."

"Bon Voyage."

"Take care, you too." Hua Liao gave Mei Zhidan a hug. "I'm leaving."

A short while later, Hua Liao returned to the sea and swam away into the distance.

Flushing.

Today in 1951, Flushing was a high-value commuter residential area with prices only one-third to one-fifth of those in Manhattan. The 7 subway line ran through the area, and it only took 30 minutes to get to Manhattan.

However, there were also some drawbacks. At that time, Flushing was considered a suburb. Due to the small population, the businesses were mainly local small shops. There were no large shopping malls or luxury hotels. Many plots of wasteland in the area were not sought after, and the price was as low as US$1000 per acre, or HK$0.13 per square foot.

Luo Yin and two other team members lived in a luxury detached house on Main Street, where they converted the garage into an office and operated two companies registered by Xian Yaowen: Pigsy and Monkey King.

At the entrance to the residence, there are two signs with arrows pointing to the garage. The signs are decorated with the logos of two companies: one with a nine-toothed rake and the other with a simple abstract drawing of Sun Wukong.

A middle-aged man stood in front of the sign, his back straight, exuding a military air.

Sin Yiu-man got out of the car and shook hands with the middle-aged man. “Major Richard Davis Winters, I’ve heard your story from many people, but today I finally meet you in person.”

“Mr. Hepburn, I have retired. You can call me Dick.”

"I can?"

Dick is a simplified and modified nickname for Richard, and it's usually used by close friends and family.

“Of course, you’re my boss,” Winters laughed.

“OK, Dick, you can call me Adam, and tell me about the progress of the work.”

Upon hearing this, Winters promptly stated, "Pigsy bought 2.5 acres of wasteland at the intersection of Main Street and Roosevelt Avenue at $2000 per acre, for a total of $5000; and bought 1.8 acres of wasteland on College Point Avenue at $1750 per acre, for a total of $3150."

They bought 1.2 acres of wasteland west of the Quaker Hall at $1400 per acre, for a total of $1680; and 87 acres of swampy land in Flushing River Bay at $800 per acre, for a total of $69,600.

The swamp is a bit of a problem; Queens has assigned us to clean up the trash washed ashore by the tides, nearly 10 tons every month.

Sin Yiu-man chuckled and said, "It depends on what kind of trash it is. Some trash can be sold for money, which might be enough to cover staff salaries."

"I've taken a close look, and there probably isn't much trash that can be sold."

"This is really bad news."

As the two were talking, they entered the office. The first thing Xian Yaowen saw was the Flushing map hanging on the wall. He went to the map, found the locations of the four wastelands, and silently named them in his mind—New World Mall, Skyview Mall, Flushing Plaza, and Flushing Meadows Park.

In the original historical trajectory, the four wastelands corresponded exactly to the buildings he named. As long as he could bear the annual expenses and taxes, and hoarded them for forty years, the value of the four wastelands could increase thousands of times.

"Dick, have you summoned the guards?"

Wasteland is not afraid of being stolen, but it is afraid of being coveted. If it is occupied by homeless people, there will be a lot of trouble in the future. If it is built on, it will not be as simple as a dispute, but it may not be possible to get it back.

Another issue is garbage dumping. No matter who dumped it, they'll always be blamed, and the fines and cleanup fees could become a bottomless pit.

"Six temporary guards were hired."

"The cost of six guards is not small, and a piece of wasteland is gone in two months. How is the research on agricultural assessment exemptions and federal subsidies going?"

“I consulted a lawyer, and all four plots of wasteland can be converted into agricultural land, taxed based on the value of production at a rate of 0.5%, which would only cost a few dozen dollars a year. The federal subsidy is $3500 per year, but the lawyer is asking for 60%, so the company can only get $1400.”

"Something is better than nothing. Let the lawyer handle it as soon as possible."

"However, this operation carries significant risks. If it is discovered that farmland has been falsely reported, the underpaid taxes will be subject to double the fine."

“Why make a false report?” Xian Yaowen handed Winters the “New York City Rules” he had bought on the way. “Except for the swamp, all three other wastelands are planted with potatoes. When they are ripe, they are sold to grocery stores. The money earned is used for employee welfare expenses, such as big meals, camping, and travel. How to spend the money is up to the employees themselves.”

Winters smiled slightly. "Both companies, including myself, only have two full-time employees."

“We’ll definitely need to increase manpower later.” Xian Yaowen raised his hand and drew a line on the map. “Tomorrow I will inject $50 into the Monkey King’s account. You can select high-quality two-family and multi-family homes along Main Street, do some simple renovations, and rent them out. Buy as many homes as you can with $50, and reinvest the rental income into buying homes. Continue this cycle until you buy the entire Main Street.”

[Dual-family and multi-family homes refer to buildings on a single plot of land owned by multiple people. They are roughly equivalent to townhouses and apartments with a split-level structure, and are distinct from detached houses.]
"It would take decades to buy Main Street."

"Not necessarily. Two or three years later, the rented houses will be taken back and rented to Asians and Blacks again, which will bring down the house prices on Main Street."

Flushing will grow into a new Chinatown mainly because Taiwanese people who got rich first settled here in the 1970s, and then mainland Chinese came to flock here. Sin Yiu-man is now starting to plan to serve Taiwanese people more than 20 years from now, and as a volunteer, he will help the government recover the development dividends that were taken away.

As the saying goes, "What is taken from the people should be used for the people." His son's nickname is "Amin." If one is not enough, he adds several more: Yumin, Renmin, Weimin... No matter what, he has to represent "the people" to ensure that the name is legitimate.

Winters frowned and said, "Wouldn't that be too cruel?"

"Wow, Dick, you're a white supremacist?"

"I'm not."

"So why do Asians and Black people moving here cause housing prices to drop?" Sin Yiu-man punched Winters in the chest. "Only the cruel are treated cruelly. I'm just using cruel unspoken rules to achieve my business goals. It has nothing to do with cruelty or justice, because there is no justice here."

The Declaration of Independence states that all men are created equal, and Lincoln, who issued the Emancipation Proclamation, said, "I do not intend to achieve equality between the black and white races; the white should be placed on a higher status."

Sin Yiu-man shrugged. "The idea that all men are created equal, that black slaves are freed, and that white supremacy are all just rhetoric used to unite external forces."

Dick, protect your sense of honor in liberating Europe. Commerce has never been legitimate, let alone just. It merely reveals the true nature of our environment: everyone is a link in the food chain, eating and being eaten.

“It’s a cruel statement, but I will try to understand.” Xian Yaowen patted Winters’ arm. “You know Catherine is my colleague. I’ve heard her mention Mr. Nixon. Mr. Nixon may not be a qualified business manager. You worked with him at the Nixon Nitration Plant, so you should have the deepest understanding of this.”

If—and I mean if—you think so too, please write me a letter to Mr. Nexon. I'm interested in the Nexon nitration plant and would like to meet and discuss it.

A few months ago, Winters was recalled, but he didn't want to go. During the six-month period before he had to report to the military, he tried to find a way, even writing to Spier in South Korea.

Spier found Kong Lingxian, and the news reached Xian Yaowen. Xian Yaowen asked the Charlotte family for help, and Winters became a member of the New York State National Guard. He only needed to take one weekend a month to attend training, and spent the rest of the time as a manager.

“I need to think about it,” Winters said, somewhat hesitantly.

"No problem, you can take your time to think about it." (End of Chapter)