newbobooks Chapter 251 Talent?
Chapter 251 Talent?
Fuzhou, temporary coastal defense command center.
The sky was just beginning to lighten, and the sea was still a gray color.
The telegram paper on the table had been sitting there all night, its edges curled up. The light was still on, and the tea had long since gone cold. There was hardly anyone talking in the room; only the occasional scraping of a pen on paper and the soft clicking of the telegraph machine could be heard.
Chen Zijun stood by the window, looking at the sky outside that was just beginning to brighten. After a moment, he looked away and swiped his hand across the system panel.
The figures on the books dropped silently.
Shen Li looked down at the fund transfer details that Chen Zijun had just signed, and raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Young Marshal, have you allocated two more sums of military funds this time?"
"Um."
Chen Zijun's tone was calm. "One sum was allocated to the expansion of telegraph stations in the five southeastern provinces. Another sum was allocated to the public archives filing teams of the five provincial governments."
Shen Li looked up at him. Chen Zijun withdrew his hand, knowing his confusion, and casually added:
"A fort is a fort, and a telegraph station is also a fort. One fires shells, the other lays out explanations. These days, anyone who only knows how to fire but doesn't leave a trace is easily portrayed as the one who started it."
Shen Li understood, but his lips didn't move; he simply whispered:
"Understood. Before, we would win the battle first, and then find someone to write it. Now, we write it while we're fighting, and we even prepare the draft for them after the battle is over."
Chen Zijun smiled.
"almost."
As he spoke, he turned around and looked at the three items that were already laid out on the table.
The first item is a photocopy of the bottom copy of the Fu Shun Ping code number purchased through the Xin Shun Insurance Agency in Shanghai.
The second item is a copy of the manuscript sent from outside the old silver shop's back alley transportation station.
The third item was the delivery ledger of the anonymous letter sent from Wangping Street.
Three sheets of paper, none of them very big.
The flavor just comes out when they're placed together.
Like three seemingly unrelated fish scales, when pieced together on a table, they form the outline of a whole fish.
Shen Li gently pushed one of the pages forward.
"Sister Gui and Sister Huixin have almost finished merging the lines. The Nanyang ships are being unusually protected, and the brokers are circling around Wu Fuji, the agent of the old Japanese trading company. As for the old bank, the outsourced manuscripts are signed with the freight stamp number of 'Guangjicheng' flat wharf. The anonymous letters sent to Wangping Street are also being paid for by people from Guangjicheng."
He paused for a moment after saying this.
"A boat, a mouth, a draft, and in the end, they all come back to the same peripheral trading company."
Chen Zijun walked to the table and glanced down at it.
"Guangji Cheng".
He pronounced those three words very softly.
It felt like it had passed through my mouth briefly.
Shen Li nodded.
"It's been a long-established trading company. On the surface, it deals in military supplies, fabrics, and Southeast Asian bills. In reality, it handles shell companies, delivers messages, manages accounts, and provides guarantees for the Chang faction. They're willing to do any dirty work."
Chen Zijun hummed in agreement.
"Normally, this kind of number is just a gofer. But once ships at sea, tickets on land, and newspapers all turn to it, then it's no longer a gofer."
Shen Li looked up: "What's that?"
Chen Zijun tapped the three pieces of paper lightly with his fingertip. "It's a tail. The tail of the one he always had when he was bald!"
"Follow the tail, and you'll find the person holding the leash."
Footsteps sounded outside the door, and the adjutant on duty stood at attention by the door.
"Young Marshal, urgent telegram from Shanghai."
"read."
The adjutant unfolded the telegram, his voice steady:
"A call came from the headquarters of the Southeast Central Bank. Guangjicheng Pingma Store attempted to withdraw two margin calls last night, but was stopped on the spot by Mo Huixin. The store's accountant said that this was just a 'mistake by the employee,' and that they were willing to make up the difference, accept the penalty, and apologize."
Upon hearing this, Shen Li let out a cold laugh.
"This is what you call a clerk making a mistake? A mistake that can lead to losses on three fronts at once: the insurance policy copy, the courier station manuscript, and the newspaper delivery. That clerk's reach is way too far, almost touching the mouth of the Minjiang River."
Chen Zijun didn't laugh. He simply raised his chin slightly.
"Anything else? Read it again."
The adjutant continued:
President Mo added: "Guangjicheng Accounting Firm's biggest fear is not losing money, but being exposed. If it were to be listed as a three-tiered accounting firm—a gambling den, a military supply depot, and an insurance company—this firm would not just go bankrupt, it would be expelled from the business."
Shen Li took the telegram, read it, and then folded the paper. "Sister Huixin's words sound like she's planning to raid and wipe out the whole family."
Chen Zijun said calmly:
"That wasn't being forceful. She just understood things perfectly. People are afraid of losing their lives, and businesses are afraid of losing their reputation. If you lose your life, you can get a new memorial tablet, but if your reputation is ruined, even the founders won't recognize you."
After saying that, he turned around and walked back to the table to sit down.
"Add these three sheets of paper, along with the customs seizure summary, and combine them into one page."
Shen Li immediately picked up his pen.
What should the title be?
Chen Zijun didn't even look up:
"Abnormal Intervention Form for Negotiation via Intermediary Channel"
Shen Li paused, his pen poised.
"Just write it like this?"
"Just write it like this."
Chen Zijun pushed the three papers forward, his tone as calm as if he were saying that he would add an extra basket of steamed buns for breakfast today.
"Don't write about any secret cases or top-secret clues."
"We're not reporting a victory to the Military Intelligence Bureau; we're showing Zhou Qiheng the accounts."
"When it comes to accounts, the most important thing is one word."
"real."
Shanghai, the headquarters of the Southeast Central Bank.
It gets light a little earlier than in Fuzhou.
The hall was already bustling with activity, with accountants, shop assistants, money mules, scalpers, and the chamber of commerce secretary coming and going in turn. But once the door to the inner room on the second floor was closed, the lively scene outside seemed to be suppressed by the door, with only the occasional clatter of abacus beads remaining.
Mo Huixin, dressed in a moon-white long robe with her sleeves neatly rolled up, was looking down as she rummaged through the curtains.
Four ledgers were laid out in front of her. On the left was the transaction record of the Guangjicheng Pingmazhan (a type of gambling den), on the right was the transaction record of Xinshun Insurance Agency, and to the side were several delivery fees from Wangping Street Newspaper Office.
Su Guiying sat opposite, wearing a thin jacket over her cheongsam, a piece of paper between her fingers, and no smile in her eyes.
"This business really doesn't discriminate when it comes to work."
Mo Huixin did not look up.
"Those who are picky about jobs can't run this kind of business."
She turned the page, her finger pausing on a particular line.
"Look at this pen."
Su Guiying leaned forward slightly.
"At the end of June, Guangjicheng advanced two small amounts of silver as collateral for Xinshun Insurance Agency. Ostensibly, it was for the transfer of goods from Nanyang. But that same evening, it transferred the same amount of silver from the old bank."
"The next day, a small newspaper on the outskirts of Wangping Street received fifty dollars in cash as a tip."
Su Guiying narrowed her eyes.
"Fifty dollars isn't much. But the taste is familiar."
"It's like wrapping a piece of cloth around someone's hand before handing them a knife, in case they cut themselves."
Mo Huixin gently closed the ledger halfway, her voice gentle, yet sounding more precise than the accountant's abacus.
"Guang Jicheng received more than one sum of money."
"It eats rice from three heads."
"The Hong Kong ticketing system demands it to deliver messages, the Japanese ticketing system demands it to launder tickets, and the tabloids demand it to pay for ink. It then pockets a layer of profit from the flat rate and the insurance premium."
"Layer upon layer, it really does look like someone who knows how to manage a household."
Su Guiying smiled.
"If Manager Guangjicheng heard you say that, he'd have to kowtow to you."
"After all, not everyone can curse with an accounting style."
Mo Huixin then looked up at her and smiled gently.
I wasn't insulting him.
"I'm praising him. He's quite talented to be able to scheme so skillfully."