Republic of China: Ace Pilot

Chapter 67. Righteousness often comes from humble beginnings; be mindful of danger even in times of peace.
Fang Wen, dressed in a long robe, left his residence and strolled down the street. Along the way, many people, whether they knew him or not, would greet him, and Fang Wen would respond with a smile.

With the establishment of Taishan Airlines, the eight major families of Northeast China finally gained a foothold in Shanghai. People from the eight major families of Northeast China came from Beiping one after another and were all arranged to live in this area.

Located in the suburbs, the houses here are cheap, and many have already been bought outright by Bada Company or leased on long-term contracts, making it the best place for them to settle down.

That little tavern up ahead is where the people from Taishan Airlines and Bada Company often go. It's also where I've arranged to meet with Sun Debiao tonight, and it's the place that mysterious person requested to meet.

Fang Wen lifted the curtain and entered the tavern.

The receptionist greeted him with a broad smile: "General Manager Fang, you've arrived. The usual place, right? Someone else has already arrived."

"Really?" Fang Wen took off his wide-brimmed hat and scarf, handed them to the waiter to hang on the coat rack by the door, and walked over by himself.

The waiter mentioned the usual spot, a window seat inside the tavern, which is neither stuffy nor too quiet.

This is his usual spot where he and his friends and colleagues gather.

There were already four people sitting there, chatting idly on the table with some cold dishes on it.

Sun Debiao, Manager Liu, Howard, and Paul, a Boeing mechanic who doesn't understand Chinese.

Basically, Sun Debiao and Manager Liu spoke in Chinese, while Howard and Paul spoke in English, each talking their own thing.

Only when Fang Wen arrives do these four people have common topics to discuss.

Fang Wen sat down. "Why didn't you order anything? Lao Liu, you can order."

"We've been waiting for you." Manager Liu smiled and waved. When the waiter came over, he ordered two catties of braised beef and several local stir-fried dishes.

Of course, a tavern can't be without alcohol, so Sun Debiao took out a bottle and placed it on the table.

"This is Fengxiang liquor bought from Fuyang. I heard it has a mild taste, so Paul can have some too."

Fang Wen took it and looked at it.

The bottle reads: "Special product of Xijing, Fengxiang liquor. It can keep you warm in winter and prevent plague in summer. It is a good gift for home, travel, banquets, weddings, and other occasions."

The advertising copy was quite interesting.

I just don't know what the liquor tastes like.

He asked the waiter to take the wine and warm it up.

Soon, the wine was warmed up and the dishes were served. Each of the five people poured a glass, but they didn't clink glasses or toast each other. They sipped their wine slowly.

This wine is indeed very smooth; even Paul, who isn't a big drinker, didn't have much of an effect after drinking it.

They drank wine, ate food, and started chatting.

"Manager Liu, Taishan Airlines must have made a lot of money these days, right?" Sun Debiao asked casually.

As the chief accountant of Taishan Airlines, Manager Liu was certainly aware of the company's operating cash flow, but he could only tell Fang Wen and it was not convenient to tell anyone else.

He responded vaguely, "Yes, of course it's wonderful."

Then he changed the subject: "Now that all eight of our families have arrived, the main families want to build another business in Shanghai. The people temporarily staying here will soon be very busy."

"What are you doing?" Fang Wen asked.

Before Manager Liu could answer, Sun Debiao interrupted.

"Of course, it's our old business. Fuchanglong's trade, Taihexiang's silk, Deshenglong's medicinal herbs, Tongqinghe's tea and wine, Juyuancheng's silver, Fushunxing's general merchandise, Ruifengxiang's leather goods, and Shuntaihe's porcelain."

"No," Manager Liu shook his head. "The foundation of those businesses is all outside the pass. This time, the owners want to do another business like Taishan Airlines and open a transportation company."

"What transportation company?" Fang Wen asked in surprise.

"We're in talks about the ferry. If we buy it, we'll be very busy," Manager Liu replied.

Fang Wen hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

This deal might be considered a good one by the Eight Great Families, but Fang Wen might not see it that way.

In a few years, Shanghai will fall, and the ferry business will inevitably be greatly affected.

Unlike aviation, ferries don't offer the same high profits. It takes several years to break even, and the eight major companies will likely suffer huge losses as a result.

Airlines are different; their planes can be moved to other regions and open new routes at any time, making them an important means of transportation during wartime, so there's no need to worry about that.

But you can't say those things.

You can't exactly advise the people of the Eight Great Families: "Don't open a ferry company, or the Japanese will occupy Shanghai and launch a full-scale invasion of China in five years."
Shaking off his thoughts, Fang Wen didn't comment on it, but instead poured himself another glass of wine and slowly savored it.

Time passed slowly, and it gradually got to around nine o'clock at night.

Manager Liu, unable to hold his liquor, took his leave first, and Sun Debiao got up to see him off.

Howard and Paul then left as well. Fang Wen was left alone in the tavern.

The tavern owner came over with a big smile and said, "Mr. Fang, you seem to be in high spirits today."

Fang Wen glanced at the mechanical watch on his right wrist: "Bring another plate of braised beef, two stir-fried meat dishes, and tidy up this place."

"You have more guests? Okay."

Then the tavern owner went back to work, while the waiter came over to clean up the leftover food on the table.

Once everything was tidied up, the newly ordered dishes were served again.

Fang Wen just sat there silently waiting.

It was past 10 o'clock, but the other party had not shown up, so he prepared to get up and leave.

This time, the tavern's curtains were drawn back.

A short man wearing a baseball cap walked in with his hands in his pockets and his head down.

"Hello." Before the greeting could even finish, the man had already walked straight to Fang Wen and sat down.

The atmosphere was a bit strange, and the tavern owner quickly pulled the waiter back into the inner room.

Fang Wen looked at the man in front of him, and his memory overlapped with that of a month ago.

They are about the same size. As for their appearance, it's hard to tell, as the brim of their baseball cap covers their faces.

"Who are you?" he asked tentatively.

The other person was very casual. He picked up the bottle, poured himself a glass, drank it down in one gulp, and then picked up two slices of beef.

"The meat is so-so, but the wine is good." He took off his baseball cap and said with a serious expression, "Zhao Jiu, a member of the Qing Gang's Hui generation."

This meant that the other party was a member of the Shanghai Green Gang, which made Fang Wen slightly disappointed.

Yet he smiled and raised his glass.

"Thanks for the timely warning that day, I'll drink to that first."

Zhao Jiu's expression softened, and he clinked glasses with Fang Wen before explaining the situation.

“That day, I was going to Zhabei to set up a scheme to get some money from the brothels. I was already dizzy and about to succeed when two more people suddenly showed up.”

Things are not complicated.

Zhao Jiu was a member of the Green Gang, but that matter was not assigned by the Green Gang.

Although he held a senior position in the Green Gang, he made a living on his own.

He usually frequents the Zhabei area, engaging in petty theft, swindling, and fraud.

Just like that day, he and his accomplices drugged the prostitutes at the Japanese brothel, intending to steal something.

Unexpectedly, two more people arrived outside, one hiding on the roof and the other behind the bed.

The two men assumed the woman inside was asleep and chatted without any suspicion, occasionally throwing in some Japanese words.

Zhao Jiu frequented the Zhabei area and knew the origins of these people. They were from an organization called the Black Dragon Society, and most of them were Japanese ronin fluent in Mandarin.

I didn't care at first; I was just waiting for these two to leave so I could grab the money and run away.

But later, he overheard the other party mentioning the assassination of Fang Wen in Shiliupu, and for some reason, he had the idea of ​​reporting it.

Then that's how the incident that day happened.

After listening to the other person's story, Fang Wen was deeply moved.

He originally thought he had been rescued by some organization, but he never expected to be just an ordinary gangster.

This proves the saying: "The most righteous are often the lowly butchers."

Without hesitation, he took off his valuables and gave them to Zhao Jiu, promising to repay him handsomely in the future.

The other party clasped his hands in refusal: "Zhao Jiu is not someone who can't tell the difference. I will accept this favor. In the future, I, Zhao Jiu, can say that I fought against the Japanese and saved an air combat hero. What does it matter if I take your money?"

Since the other party said so, Fang Wen stopped being coy and returned the greeting with clasped hands: "Then I will accept this favor. If you encounter any difficulties in the future, please feel free to come to me."

The other person was slightly touched, clasped their hands together again and raised them above their eyebrows, said nothing, and turned to leave.

Watching Zhao Jiu's departing figure, Fang Wen was thinking about something.

In this chaotic world, safety isn't just about having special abilities; you also need a group of people around you who can be used to protect you.

(End of this chapter)