Spy game? Stop guessing, I really am an undercover agent!

Chapter 51 Do you understand etiquette?

Having been back in Shanghai for so long and accomplished so much, Chen Yang has come to understand the layout of Shanghai's underworld.

The black market has always been one of the most profitable businesses.

But not everyone can make a living from this.

The black market in Shanghai was dominated by three major players, with Jin Dayou being the most active in the French Concession.

The person active in the International Settlement was named Qiao Zhenhuai. Although he shared the surname Qiao, he had absolutely no connection to the Qiao Family Compound in Shaanxi.

He's from Shangyu, Ningbo, not Shanxi.

The last one is Zhang Boqian, the most senior figure in the Shanghai market and the one who has been involved in black market trading the longest.

Zhang Boqian, nicknamed "Old Man," comes from a family that has been dealing in black market goods for generations; it's a family tradition.

Chen Yang closed the invitation and said, "Secretary Li, please have Director Ding of the General Affairs Section arrange the celebration banquet for tomorrow at the City Hall. He can represent our Economic Department."

"You should remind him that we can't afford to lose face for our Economic Department in this kind of situation."

Li Ningyu asked in surprise, "Sir, aren't you attending the banquet?"

Chen Yang said casually, "I have to keep an eye on the supply delivery, how could I have time to attend a banquet?"

"Just let Director Ding represent the Economic Department."

Although Li Ningyu still didn't quite understand, she had no right to question Chen Yang's decision.

After bowing slightly, he hurriedly went out to convey the various orders issued by Chen Yang.

Chen Yang smiled slightly as he looked at the invitation in his hand.

The celebration he just mentioned is a banquet to be held at the Bund Hotel tomorrow night, and the Nanjing Reformed Government will officially begin its work at 8:00 AM tomorrow morning.

In Shanghai, some kind of celebration was being held by traitors of all ranks. Based on the previous explosion at the VIP room of the racecourse, Chen Yang clearly felt that this banquet would not be so peaceful.

In Chongqing, the Military Intelligence Bureau had just been established, and the newly appointed head of the Bureau's Shanghai station, Zhao Lijun, was a notorious butcher.

Chen Yang speculated that the Military Intelligence Bureau would definitely use this banquet to make a fuss.

Last time he was lucky; when the chandelier fell, he reacted quickly and even managed to pull Sonoda back.

What if someone throws a bomb into the banquet hall this time? If he's accidentally injured by friendly fire, where can he go to seek justice?

The message requesting contact has been sent for quite some time now, but no one from the mountain city has come forward to contact us.

Have they forgotten about themselves?
***
Jinling Hotel, Shanghai.

The most famous building in Shanghai is the Cathay Hotel, the tallest building in the Far East, standing along the Huangpu River.

However, that restaurant was bustling with people of all kinds, and businessmen from Shanghai would generally prefer to visit established restaurants like Guomao or Jinling to conduct business.

Jinling Hotel was established at the end of the last century and has a history of forty or fifty years.

At 7 p.m., Lao Qi, the driver from the Lin Mansion, dropped Chen Yang off at the restaurant entrance and then parked the car in front of the shop across the street.

Chen Yang stood at the restaurant entrance, straightened his clothes, walked up the steps, and pushed open the carved teak door.

"Welcome, esteemed guest." The hostess greeted us with a sweet smile.

Chen Yang took out the invitation and handed it to the other party. After glancing at the name of the private room on it, the hostess bowed slightly and said, "Distinguished guest, please follow me."

After speaking, she gracefully led Chen Yang to the second floor. It must be said that as one of Shanghai's top hotels, the Jinling Hotel certainly has the credentials.

Dark red velvet curtains hung around the hotel, and old-fashioned brass chandeliers cast a warm yellow light, making the lobby look as elegant as an old-fashioned theater.

In the corner of the hall, Zhou Xuan's "The Wandering Songstress" played softly on a gramophone. On the wall hung calendar posters with gold-plated borders, depicting a beautiful woman in a cheongsam holding a fan and smiling gently, her eyes full of the charm of bygone days.

"Guests, please watch the steps." As we walked deeper into the restaurant, the hostess politely reminded us, and then the two of us ascended the spiral staircase.

The second floor was covered with a red carpet, which felt as soft and comfortable as walking on cotton.
The door to the private room at the top of the stairs was half-open, from which one could vaguely hear the loud conversations of the young men who had studied abroad, interspersed with a few soft, charming laughs in the Wu dialect.

The welcoming girl led the way, and soon we reached the end of the stairs, where two tall men were already standing.

Upon seeing Chen Yang appear, the two immediately approached him: "Excuse me, are you Director Chen of the Economic Department?"

Chen Yang's expression changed slightly; these black market merchants were certainly looking down on him.

Logically, since they were hosting a dinner party, the host should have been the one to greet them at the door. Instead, they sent two underlings to wait at the door.

This person doesn't think they're something special.
"No, I've gone to the wrong place," Chen Yang said calmly, turning to leave.

With a whoosh, just as Chen Yang turned around, the door to the private room behind him opened, and a middle-aged businessman wearing a Hangzhou textile long gown and gold-rimmed glasses hurriedly chased after him.

"Commander Chen, it's a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding." The middle-aged man caught up with Chen Yang in a few steps and bowed, saying, "I just went in and said a few words to the old man. I didn't expect you to come at this time."

“My name is Jin Dayou. I have been impolite. Please forgive me, Commander Chen.”

"Oh, so I went to the right place." Chen Yang chuckled. "I just got back from Japan not long ago and rarely go out for business dinners. I'm really not familiar with this restaurant. I thought I had gone to the wrong place."

"Mr. Jin, we country folk have never seen anything like this before, please forgive us."

Who is being implied here? Jin Dayou was originally from the countryside, and Chen Yang's words implied that this country bumpkin didn't know proper etiquette.

Knowing he was in the wrong, Jin Dayou didn't dare to argue further. He carefully smiled and led Chen Yang into the private room.

At this moment, there were two other people in the private room besides Jin Dayou.

The man on the left was wearing a navy blue British wool suit with a silver-grey waistcoat underneath. A pocket watch chain ran across his chest, and the gold watch cover was engraved with Roman numerals.

He had a pen tucked into the pocket of his suit jacket, and a gold brooch pinned to his light blue tie.

Before we even got close,

You can smell the pungent smell of Havana cigars on him.

On the right, however, was an elderly man in his early sixties with gray hair, clearly quite old.

He was wearing a long purple satin robe with floral patterns, and a glittering gold pocket watch chain was visible above the lapel. The ironing creases of his suit trousers were faintly visible through the slit at the hem.

He held a sandalwood walking stick in his right hand and wore a jade thumb ring on his ring finger.

The two men's attire alone is enough to prove their status; they are either rich or noble.

"Commander Chen, let me introduce you. This is Qiao Zhenhuai, the Fifth Master Qiao."

"This is Mr. Zhang Boqian."

Chen Yang smiled and bowed to the two men, who politely returned the gesture.

However, Chen Yang felt that there seemed to be something strange in Qiao Zhenhuai's eyes when he looked at him, whether it was his imagination or not.

That feeling is, looking down on yourself?
(End of this chapter)