Hong Kong Film: Short mules have no future, I am in charge of Hong Kong

Chapter 395 Turns into a Bloodbath

"What do you know?" Su Hanze finally spoke, his voice so low it was as if he were suppressing a fire.

Xiao Dao shrugged and exhaled a puff of smoke: "What could I possibly know? But, Sang Ze, let me give you a piece of advice: Kowloon Walled City is a place that's easy to get into but hard to get out of. If you really want to go, you'd better bring a few people with you."

Su Hanze didn't reply, only nodded, and turned to leave. The noise of the billiard room gradually faded behind him, and the deep waters seemed even colder under the night sky. He knew that tomorrow night's meeting would be anything but simple. But he had no way out; having built the business to this point, stopping would be tantamount to admitting defeat.

The following evening, Su Hanze, accompanied by two trusted men, drove to Kowloon Walled City. The car wound its way through narrow alleyways, lined with rows of illegally constructed buildings, electrical wires crisscrossing like spiderwebs, and a damp, musty smell permeating the air. Kowloon Walled City was a lawless place, where the law was practically nonexistent, a den of iniquity, yet also a breeding ground for countless clandestine transactions.

The old teahouse was deep within the walled city, its facade dilapidated, a signboard with peeling paint hanging on the wooden door. Su Hanze pushed open the door and entered. The interior was dimly lit, the air thick with the aroma of tea and tobacco. A few tables were sparsely occupied, everyone head down, sipping their tea, no one glancing at him. He scanned the room, his gaze finally settling on a middle-aged man in a gray Tang suit in the corner.

The man smiled slightly as he saw him enter and gestured for him to come over. Su Hanze walked over and sat down, with two subordinates standing behind him, vigilantly observing their surroundings.

"Mr. Su, I've heard so much about you." The middle-aged man spoke, his voice as deep and slick as it had been on the phone. "My name is Huang Gou, I run errands for people."

Su Hanze ignored his polite words and said calmly, "Go ahead, what kind of business is it?"

The yellow dog chuckled, pulled a photograph from his pocket, and pushed it in front of Su Hanze. The photograph showed a pile of golden tobacco leaves, exactly the same as the goods in his hand. Su Hanze's eyes flickered slightly, but his expression remained unchanged.

“Your goods are indeed of good quality,” Huang Gou said slowly. “My boss is very interested and is willing to pay double the price to buy all your stock.”

"Double?" Su Hanze sneered. "Who's your boss? He's got such a big appetite."

Yellow Dog shook his head, a sly smile playing on his lips: "Boss Su, sometimes knowing too much is not a good thing. Just tell me, will you sell or not?"

Su Hanze remained silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the unsettling smile on Huang Gou's face. He knew this deal was anything but simple. Double the price sounded tempting, but Kowloon Walled City was never a good place to do business. He needed to carefully consider whether it was worth the risk.

"Give me a day to think about it," Su Hanze finally spoke, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable chill.

The yellow dog didn't seem surprised and nodded: "Okay, tomorrow night, same place. I'll wait for your reply."

Su Hanze said nothing more and got up to leave. As he stepped out of the teahouse, night had completely enveloped Kowloon Walled City. A few barks echoed from the alleyways, mingled with distant clamor. He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and his mind raced with calculations.

It was late at night when Su Hanze returned to his residence in Sham Shui Po.

He lit a cigarette, sat down at the table, and kept replaying Huang Gou's words in the Kowloon Walled City teahouse in his mind.

The photo of the yellow dog was still in his pocket; he was intimately familiar with the color and smell of the tobacco leaves. The fact that the yellow dog could produce the photo so precisely meant that someone had already figured out his hand.

What worried him even more was the Yau Ma Tei triad that Jimmy had mentioned; those people were never easy to deal with. If they really got involved, this business deal could easily turn into a bloodbath.

Su Hanze stubbed out his cigarette, got up, walked to the window, and opened it. The night breeze carried the salty smell of the sea, mixed with the aroma of roast meat from a distant stall. He squinted, staring at the streets of Sham Shui Po in the distance, but his mind was already plotting a bigger plan.

While the tobacco business was profitable, the risks were also increasing. The black market was envious, and the gangs in Yau Ma Tei were eyeing him covetously. He knew that continuing on this small-scale operation would eventually lead to his complete annihilation. He needed a bigger plan, one that would allow him to escape these troubles completely.

He thought of tobacco factories. Not those small workshops, but real factories—large-scale and systematic—that could bring the tobacco trade out of the black market, at least superficially clean. He had considered quitting, but once you're in this deep water, how easy is it to extricate yourself?

However, this path is not easy. Building a factory requires money, land, and manpower, as well as cultivating relationships with officials. Many in Sham Shui Po have tried similar approaches, but most have ultimately failed at the government's gates. Su Hanze knew he had to proceed cautiously, ensuring he didn't make a single wrong step.

The next morning, Su Hanze drove to an old factory near the Sham Shui Po pier.

He pushed open the iron gate, and inside several workers were busy sorting the freshly delivered tobacco leaves. The air was filled with the distinctive, rich aroma of tobacco, mixed with a hint of sweat and dust. When the workers saw him enter, they all stopped what they were doing and bowed their heads to greet him.

"Boss, this batch of goods has been sorted as you instructed." A worker named A-Qiang walked over, wiped his sweat, and said respectfully, "There are still a few boxes that haven't been packed yet. Should I ask someone to work overtime?"

Su Hanze waved his hand, his gaze sweeping over the neatly stacked tobacco leaves: "Leave them for now, don't rush to ship them out recently."

A-Qiang paused for a moment, seemingly puzzled, but didn't ask further. He simply nodded and went back to work. Su Hanze stood there, lit a cigarette, and slowly strolled deeper into the factory. He pushed open a hidden door and entered the small office. The notebook on the desk was still open, and next to it was a yellowed map marking several remote mountainous areas—his supply points.

He sat down, opened his notebook, and began to plan the construction of the factory. Land prices in Sham Shui Po were not cheap, but there were some abandoned factory buildings near the docks that could be acquired at a low price. If he could acquire a plot of land and transform it into a decent tobacco factory, the next issues would be funding and manpower.

He could raise the funds; he'd accumulated a considerable amount of money from his business over the years. But manpower was a problem. A tobacco factory wasn't an ordinary workshop; producing opium required knowledgeable people. The formula, the equipment, the process—every step had to be handled with care. More importantly, he needed to find a way to get through to officials; otherwise, the factory would be shut down before it even opened.

Just then, his phone rang. It was Xiaodao. Su Hanze frowned and answered the phone: "What is it?"

Xiao Dao's voice, as always, carried a hint of mockery: "Sang Ze, how did the talks go in Kowloon Walled City last night? Did you get hacked to pieces?"

Su Hanze snorted coldly: "Enough nonsense. What news do you have on your end?"

Xiao Dao paused, his tone becoming more serious: "There really is something. Things haven't been peaceful in Yau Ma Tei lately. I heard a big shot named Chen Jiu is gathering his men, specifically targeting the tobacco business. Could the person you met last night be related to him?"

Su Hanze's eyes darkened. He wasn't unfamiliar with the name Chen Jiu. In the Yau Ma Tei gang, this man was a newcomer, ruthless and cunning, who had risen from an unknown nobody to the gang's second-in-command in just a few years. His name was practically taboo in the black market; no one dared to provoke him lightly.

"Yellow Dog," Su Hanze coldly uttered. "Who?" Xiao Dao clearly hadn't heard him clearly.

"The guy who contacted me last night called himself Yellow Dog." Su Hanze paused. "You know him?"

Xiao Dao was silent for a moment, then lowered his voice: "Yellow Dog? Never heard of it. But, Sang Ze, be careful. Kowloon Walled City isn't a place for good people."

Su Hanze didn't reply and hung up the phone directly. He lit a cigarette, leaned back in his chair, and his mind raced. Chen Jiu, Huang Gou, the gang in Youmaidi—these clues were like a tangled mess, impossible to unravel. He knew he had to make a decision quickly, or trouble would follow.

That afternoon, Su Hanze arranged to meet Jimmy at the teahouse. This time, he went alone, without his men. The teahouse was as it always was: in the dim light, a few regulars chatted quietly, the air filled with the aroma of tea and tobacco. Jimmy had already arrived, with a pot of Tieguanyin tea and a plate of char siu buns in front of him.

"So early again." Jimmy looked up and smiled. "Sangze, you're really decisive."

Su Hanze sat down and said directly, "I need to talk to you."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow and pushed a plate of snacks towards him: "Eat some first, then we can talk slowly."

Su Hanze remained unmoved, his gaze coldly fixed on Jimmy: "I want to open a tobacco factory and produce opium. Do you have any connections that can help me get the land and permits?"

Jimmy's chopsticks paused in mid-air, and after a moment of stunned silence, he laughed heartily: "A tobacco factory? Sangze, you've got quite the appetite. The opium business isn't something just anyone can get involved in."

“I know,” Su Hanze said calmly, “that’s why I came to you.”

Jimmy's smile faded, and he squinted, scrutinizing him as if trying to read something from his face. After a moment, he put down his chopsticks and said in a low voice, "Opening a factory isn't easy. You need land, money, and people. Especially connections with officials. Without some backing, the factory won't last a day. You really want to do it?"

Su Hanze nodded: "I have the goods and the people, all I lack is the land and the connections."

Jimmy was silent for a moment, then picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Land is easy to deal with. There are a few abandoned factory buildings near the docks, not expensive, I can help you make the connections. As for the procedures..." He paused, lowering his voice, "The Sham Shui Po cops are hard to deal with, but not impossible. The problem is you, Sang Ze, what makes you think I can help you?"

Su Hanze sneered: "You've been in this business for twenty years, you know the ways of Sham Shui Po better than I do. If you don't want to get involved, just say so."

Jimmy was taken aback by his words, then smiled wryly and said, "Your temper is still as impulsive as ever. Fine, I can give it a try, but I need to know your plan first. A tobacco factory isn't a small business; you need to tell me, just how big do you want to go?"

Su Hanze leaned back in his chair and exhaled a puff of smoke: "The bigger the better."

Jimmy's eyes changed, now filled with a hint of inquiry: "Sangze, you're really going to go all out this time. Okay, I'll ask around for you, but let me be clear, this is quite risky. If those guys in Yau Ma Tei find out you're opening a factory, they might come looking for trouble."

“I’ll handle the Yau Ma Tei matter myself,” Su Hanze said, his voice as cold as ice. “You just need to help me with the land and paperwork.”

Jimmy nodded, saying nothing more. The two chatted a few more times about business details, then Su Hanze got up and left. As he walked out of the teahouse, it was already dark, the neon lights on the street were flashing, and the noise was deafening. He lit a cigarette and slowly walked towards his car, his mind already calculating his next move.

That evening, Su Hanze went to Kowloon Walled City again. This time, he didn't bring his men; he went into the old teahouse alone. Yellow Dog was still sitting in the corner, wearing a gray Tang suit, with a pot of tea and two cups in front of him. Seeing Su Hanze enter, he smiled and gestured, "Boss Su, please sit down."

Su Hanze sat down, his gaze sweeping coldly over the yellow dog: "Tell me, who exactly is your boss?"

Huang Gou poured a cup of tea, pushed it in front of him, and said slowly, "Boss Su, what's the rush? In business, it's more interesting to talk things out slowly."

Su Hanze didn't touch his teacup, his tone icy: "I don't have time to beat around the bush with you. You want my goods, double the price, no problem. But I need to know who I'm doing business with."

Yellow Dog's smile froze for a moment, then returned to normal: "Okay, that's straightforward. My boss's surname is Chen, he's from Yau Ma Tei, you should have heard of him."

“Chen Jiu.” Su Hanze’s eyes darkened.

Huang Gou nodded, his smile somewhat meaningful: "It seems Boss Su is quite well-informed. That's right, it's Chen Jiu. He's very interested in your tobacco and willing to pay a high price. However, he has one condition."

"What are the conditions?" Su Hanze's voice was as cold as a knife.

Huang Gou took a sip of tea and said slowly, "He wants to cooperate with you, not just to buy goods. He heard that you have your own channels and wants to work with you to build a factory and produce opium."

Su Hanze's pupils contracted slightly. He hadn't expected Chen Jiu to be so ambitious, not only wanting his goods but also trying to interfere in his business. Building the factory was his own plan, but now someone else had brought it up first, which made him feel a strange sense of crisis.

"Cooperation?" Su Hanze sneered. "What makes him think I would agree?"

Huang Gou shrugged, a sly smile playing on his lips: "Boss Su, don't be so quick to refuse. Chen Jiu's connections are far wider than yours. You know how powerful he is in Yau Ma Tei. With him, the tobacco factory's permits and protection won't be a problem."

Su Hanze remained silent for a moment, staring into Huang Gou's eyes, trying to glean something from them. But Huang Gou's smile was like a mask, completely impenetrable. He knew that the key to this negotiation wasn't Huang Gou, but Chen Jiu. This was a man he had to face personally.

"I want to see Chen Jiu." Su Hanze finally spoke, his tone calm but carrying an undeniable air of authority.

Yellow Dog paused for a moment, then laughed heartily: "Good, you've got guts. Alright, I'll arrange it. But, Boss Su, Kowloon Walled City isn't a safe place, you'd better bring more men."

(End of this chapter)