money player

In East Germany in 1951, smuggling was quite rampant.

The most sophisticated form of smuggling involved state-level operations, where the East German government, through companies under its control, systematically exported domestic goods to the West through legal or illegal channels in exchange for much-needed hard currency.

This falls under the category of state-level smuggling, but it is usually covered by trade agreements.

Secondly, there was the Stasi's smuggling activities abroad. The Stasi trade unions smuggled valuable goods from East Germany to West Germany in exchange for West German marks or dollars to fund espionage activities outside of East Germany.

In addition, the Stasi trade union used smuggling channels to contact black market dealers and Allied soldiers in West Berlin, attempting to recruit them as intelligence sources.

While doing this job, it's quite normal to do some business on the side. If you suffer the injustice of "your achievements going unnoticed," shouldn't you at least get some financial compensation?

On an individual level, there weren't many people in East Germany who actively engaged in smuggling. Perhaps it was because East Germans had a higher moral standard, or perhaps it was because East Germany cracked down hard, severely punishing those caught smuggling, or executing them as "traitors to the Republic."

The People's Police, an instrument of the East German Socialist Unity Party's dictatorship, served as a triple role of police, internal security force, and reserve army. An important component of this force was the border police, who were well-equipped and responsible for guarding the borders between East Germany and West Germany, as well as West Berlin, to prevent the escape of civilians. They were the living Berlin Wall of today.

Border police guard the border, and smugglers shuttle back and forth right under their noses. They are composed of elites, and those stationed at important checkpoints are the elite of the elite. They have sharp eyes and a nose as sensitive as pigs and dogs, and some smuggling activities cannot escape their scrutiny.

Five years ago, we were all still family. Even if we were broken, we were still connected by blood. Minor squabbles were ignored, while more serious ones involved handing over a few packs of American cigarettes. Before lights out, we would hold a small class meeting, smoking cigarettes and denouncing how the evil American soldiers were raping East Berlin women while shouting "Hurrah!"

When encountering a major smuggler, he knocked out his comrade with the butt of his rifle, shouted "For East Germany, fire on me!", brandished his bayonet, and charged alone at the West German smugglers who were "all armed with sugar-coated cannons," striving for a living title of "East German Hero" and a chance to "learn from Comrade XX".

A common soldier with narrow shoulders can't carry a big pot. He can smoke a few packs of cigarettes, but he wouldn't dare accept eight or ten thousand marks.

Zhao Lian stood at the intersection of East and West Spencer Road, gazing at the British-occupied territory to his left, then at the French-occupied territory behind him, before looking directly at East Spencer Road and fixing his gaze on the East German watchtower.

He lit a Golden Leaf hand-rolled cigarette, pondering how to get an audience with Waldemar Schmidt, the head of the East German Border Police. He wanted to carry out large-scale smuggling into East Germany and turn it into a quasi-legitimate trade, so Waldemar Schmidt was someone he absolutely had to get on good terms with.

Waldemar Schmidt nominally obeyed Interior Minister Karl Steinf, but in reality, 80% of the orders he carried out came from the military advisory group and intelligence agency of the Soviet occupation authorities. Getting Waldemar Schmidt on board would make it easier to establish contact with the Soviets, and the trade strategy he envisioned for Eastern Europe could also be launched.

In the time it takes to smoke a cigarette, he had a clue and turned to walk away.

He also needed to go to Tempelhof Airport to meet Colonel Norman Mailer, the commander of the 7350th Air Base Group of the U.S. Army. Even with new routes, he couldn't forget to explore the old routes he was used to. No matter how convenient the land route was, it couldn't compare to flying.

First, we need to figure out where the goods will come from; then we can figure out where to sell them.

……

Time flies, and it's June 24th, the birthday of Guan Yu. Xian Yaowen has returned to Taipei after a trip around Europe.

cloudy day.

Traces of the flood still lingered on the streets, and the air was filled with a mixture of smells: the stench of rotting wood, the putrid smell of dead rats, and the muddy odor.

Guling Street was also flooded, but Kaohsiung was prepared and moved the old books in the store to higher ground in advance. Now, all that is needed is to put the books outside to air them out and get rid of the musty smell.

Xian Yaowen sat on a low stool made of broken wooden planks, with Gao Lan nestled in his arms, her small eyes intently fixed on the pages of "Geography in its True Form" in Xian Yaowen's hands.

On the left, Kao Hsiung and his wife Meng Hsin-yao used a high stool as legs and a long wooden strip as a crossbar to dry books damaged by moisture. On the right, Elizabeth Van Fleet and Chuan Dan-ju sat side by side, browsing through books that interested them.

Elizabeth Van Fleet is an ordinary person, with a barely passable appearance, a graduate of an average university, and no unusual intelligence or extraordinary experiences have been found so far.

Sin Yiu-man appointed her as his secretary, a somewhat decorative role, to accompany him to various events and fully utilize her white-collar skills. Her compensation was $400 a week, with all expenses covered, and a substantial year-end bonus depending on the circumstances.

To be honest, VanVleet is not a very useful talent, which is a pity for Sin Yiu-man, but nothing in this world is perfect, so he has to make do with him.

"Uncle, would you like some popsicles?"

"Geography True" is a book about feng shui. Although it has illustrations, they are not particularly exquisite. Gao Lan lost interest after looking at a few pictures. A craving crept up her lips, and she gave him a wicked smile, just like the male protagonist in a novel.

"Uncle wants to eat, Lanlan, would you like to eat with Uncle?"

Gao Lan chuckled, "Uncle, do you want some sour plum popsicles?"

"Yes, yes, Lanlan really knows Uncle's mind." Xian Yaowen took out a few coins and put them in Gao Lan's palm, then pinched her little face. "Don't run around. Buy Uncle some popsicles and come back."

"Uh-huh."

Gao Lan ran off happily, while Xie Tingyun followed silently behind.

A moment later, Gao Lan returned with a pile of popsicles, gave one to everyone, and kept two for herself. She leaned against Xian Yaowen's knees and sipped them with relish.

A book to while away an afternoon, then it's time to go home for dinner.

Fei Baoshu knew he was coming back today, so instead of playing cards, he cooked two of his signature dishes.

During the meal, there were many people sitting around the table: Fei Baoshu, Tang Yiying, Jin Jingyan, Xie Zhanran and his sister, Quan Danru, and Van Fleet. Long Xuemei was not there; she was a secretary who had to work and was in contact with business in Taiwan, so dinner was arranged by herself.

“These days, household expenses are high. Vegetables outside are too expensive. A bunch of water spinach, less than a pound, costs 20 yuan. Shriveled shredded radish costs 15 yuan a pound. It’s like robbery.”

Listening to Fei Baoshu's complaints, Xian Yaowen glanced at the loofah and egg soup on the table. "Eggs are cheaper than celery, so why did you put in three?"

"The price of eggs is okay, it hasn't gone up much. I've been eating them every day these days, and I'm getting tired of them."

"If you're tired of eating it, then don't eat it anymore. We're not short of money for groceries. Besides, the high price of vegetables is only temporary. It will be fine after the typhoon."

"Sir, you're back too early. There's still a typhoon coming up."

"If you don't come back soon, I'm afraid you'll run off with someone else," Xian Yaowen chuckled.

Fei Baoshu said shyly, "Master, don't say such things. Who would I run away with?"

"Just kidding. It looks like it's going to rain tomorrow. Let's go for a walk while it's not raining now."

"Ah."

After the meal, the two went for a walk and returned home early.

The next day.

The rain poured down, as if the heavens were pouring water down from a pot at dawn, threatening to overturn the city.

The rain was too heavy to get anything done, so Sin Yiu-man chatted with Lung Hok-mei, who had returned home late the night before, about work. He left around lunchtime, taking only Chuen Dan-ru with him.

Destination: Hengyang Hotel.

Upon arrival, Yang Jingyi was sitting at the front desk, but Yang Lihua was nowhere to be seen.

When Yang Jingyi saw him, her face lit up with joy, and in the blink of an eye, she darted to his side. "You're back?"

"She came back yesterday." Xian Yaowen stroked Yang Jingyi's hair. "Is it uninhabitable at home now?"

Yang Jingyi nodded, "It was flooded a few days ago, the floor was soaked and rotten, and there was a strong musty smell. The rainproof door couldn't keep out the rain, and the water flowed onto the walls, which also became moldy."

"Once the typhoon is over, we'll get someone to fix it. Where's your mother?"

"Cooking in the back..." Yang Jingyi suddenly realized, "Are you eating here?"

"Okay, add rice for four more people."

"I'll go tell you."

Yang Jingyi rushed off and rushed back, pestering Xian Yaowen to share his experiences. She was bored to death, unable to go out during the typhoon and stuck in the hotel every day.

Sin Yiu-man picked out some material and told her a story based on facts.

They talked from the front desk to the dining table, and then until they finished cleaning up the dishes. Yang Jingyi went to take a nap, while Xian Yaowen and Yang Lihua went to the makeshift kitchen set up at the back door.

A wooden basin, with cold water mixed with a little warm water, four hands soaking in the basin, shoulder to shoulder, one roughly washing, the other carefully wiping.

"Have you developed symptoms?"

"I didn't feel well the night the typhoon hit, but I was fine the rest of the time."

Did you move heavy things around the house?

"Things should be placed higher up."

"The Japanese devils' houses are a problem during typhoons. We'll wait for the typhoons in July, then demolish the houses and rebuild them with cement bricks."

"It's too late, there are typhoon seasons in August and September. How about we wait until next spring?"

“Building a bungalow will only take a few days, don’t worry about it, I will arrange it.”

Yang Lihua nodded gently, her face beaming with happiness. Having a man as her support made her feel at ease.

“These days it’s just me and Jingyi in the shop. I work the day shift and she works the night shift. She doesn’t sleep well at night and has to take a two or three-hour nap every day to catch up on sleep.”

Xian Yaowen reached out his elbow to help Yang Lihua brush her drooping hair back, then gently stroked her face with a mischievous smile. "We'll be staying for a while this time. Find an excuse to go to a hot spring hotel in Beitou for the night, eat wild vegetable dishes, and enjoy the tranquility of the mountains. We can go wherever you want, like the back mountain or the pool."

Yang Lihua's cheeks were flushed, as if enveloped in 374.2-degree steam, like fine frost. "I, I...you, you've misunderstood, I, I'm not..."

"Hehehe, don't be shy, you're not a little girl." After wiping his hands clean, Xian Yaowen hugged Yang Lihua. "Playing with fire is exciting, but this is a hotel. We need to avoid fire more than just Jingyi's fire."

"There were only three customers in the shop... they all went out." After saying this, Yang Lihua lowered her head shyly.

"Hahaha, you little slut."

Amid the laughter, Yang Lihua lowered her head even further.

After a short while, the faint fragrance dissipated, and the two of them washed the dishes and sat down at the coffee table.

Yang Lihua brewed two cups of tea, and the two chatted quietly. Yang Lihua mainly talked about how she started by bringing Yang Jingyi to Taiwan and went back in time to tell the story of her and Yang Jingyi's father, the man she once admired, and how they were childhood sweethearts.

She recounted her journey and growth, bit by bit.

When it was Sin Yiu-man's turn, he talked about the present, about things that Yang Lihua had never experienced, such as the gambling games he participated in in Los Angeles and his relationships with Hollywood actresses.

There was neither affection nor love between him and Yang Lihua. He had desire and a faint trace of friendship. Yang Lihua had desire and dependence. She had affection, the love of a mother.

A young and wealthy man who can provide for her and her daughter without worrying about food and clothing will not arouse her resistance or cause her any tragic sense of bearing humiliation. Instead, she will feel a little bit of anticipation. So what is there to be dissatisfied about? There is no need to think about anything else.

Moreover, this man gave her a long-lost sense of security, tranquility, peace, and slowness—time slowed down, the pace slowed down, and she no longer had to rush to fill her stomach.

Jealousy will not ferment or escalate between the two.

When the conversation turned to afternoon tea, Yang Jingyi woke up, and Yang Lihua went to check on the rooms to prepare for the peak period of guests.

Xian Yaowen stopped talking to Yang Jingyi. His ears were wide open, and the chatter slipped in and out of his hands. He flipped through the newspaper he hadn't finished reading.

I went upstairs for dinner and fell into Wang Chaoyun's gentle embrace.

While eating bland Japanese home-style dishes, Wang Chaoyun told us about Lafayette.

Before the typhoon arrived, Lafayette had already finished building the roof, and the interior work was still underway. The interior walls and floors were completed, and the interior decoration was in progress. The exterior walls would be finished once the rain stopped.

The establishment of a cattle farm under the guise of an American advisory group is also underway, with the site located near Yangmingshan. The introduction of dairy and beef cattle has been finalized.

Wang Chaoyun asked an acquaintance living near Alishan to go up Alishan and find a suitable piece of land to grow beetroots. Once the typhoon passes, the beetroot planting can be put on the agenda.

After having dinner and discussing work, Sin Yiu-man didn't linger and went home early in the rain.

That night, he slept in Tang Yiying's room.

I went to bed at nine o'clock, but didn't rush to sleep. I flipped through a book and listened to Tang Yiying talk.

“I found a shop on Longquan Street and plan to hang up the Jing Shu Zhai signboard and open the door to do business.”

"what do you think?"

"It's not good to rush to sell the treasures you've acquired. You have to hold onto them and wait for the market to improve. This will make your cash flow tight, so you need to do more quick in-and-out business."

Tang Yiying turned to look at Xian Yaowen, "I found that the people in the military dependents' village also have some good things. There are no particularly rare items, but most of them are easy to sell. They can be brought back to Hong Kong and made a profit."

"Jing Shu Zhai is now in your hands. You can handle it as you see fit. But if you're going to accept the goods, then accept them. Don't get involved in any shady dealings."

"What do you mean by 'shady dealings'?"

Xian Yaowen put down his book, glanced at Tang Yiying, and said, "You know very well which practices in the antique business are messy. I have never expected to make a lot of money from the antique business. Stay away from vulgar things like theft and fraud, and do more elegant things."

Tang Yiying scoffed, "The antique trade is inherently a low-class business; there's no room for refined pursuits here." (End of Chapter)