Republic of China: German-equipped divisions massacred as warlords guarded the nation's borders

Chapter 12 The Green Gang in Disarray

Chapter 12 The Rift in the Green Gang, Feng Yong's Pledge of Allegiance

4:30 PM.

Chen Zijun sat in a mahogany armchair in the headquarters' reception room, flipping through the system panel.

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Radio networks and military truck convoys are both good things.

But there's no rush now.

He put down his teacup and asked Shen Li, who was standing at the door.

Has Feng Yong arrived yet?

"We've arrived. They're waiting in the front hall," Shen Li said in a low voice. "I had them search me; I didn't bring any weapons. I only brought an attendant and a handwritten booklet. He said it was a gift for the young marshal."

"Let him in."

The door was pushed open.

The person who walked in was completely unexpected by Shen Li.

He had assumed that a dock leader of the Green Gang would be a burly man with a thick waist and a fierce face.

But Feng Yong was not.

This man was dressed in a neatly tailored black long gown. He was of medium height, lean and capable. He had a fair complexion, slightly high cheekbones, and a pair of narrow, long eyes that revealed the composure of someone who had been educated.

If you didn't know he came from the Green Gang, just looking at his demeanor, he looked like a professor from some university.

But his hands betrayed him.

Those fingers had large knuckles, and the palms were covered with thick calluses.

These are hands that have truly moved goods and carried sacks. Feng Yong himself rose through the ranks from a fruit stall apprentice. He's no stranger to hardship and bloodshed, but now he appears unusually docile.

Feng Yong walked to the center of the reception room, stood still, and bowed deeply to Chen Zijun, who was sitting in the armchair.

It's not kowtowing. It's bowing.

"Feng Yong from the South District of Shiliupu pays his respects to Commander Chen."

Chen Zijun sized him up for a few seconds.

"sit."

Feng Yong did not sit down.

He took the handwritten booklet from his attendant, held it above his head with both hands, and respectfully presented it to Chen Zijun.

"Commander, this is my pledge of allegiance, Feng Yong."

Chen Zijun didn't answer immediately.

"First, tell me what's written inside."

Feng Yong took a deep breath.

"The Green Gang's entire territory in Shanghai: thirty-seven casinos, nineteen private warehouses, and nine opium dens. The address of each, the person in charge, their monthly income, and who their protectors are—it's all there."

He paused, lowering his voice by a third.

"There's another document. It's a secret profit-sharing agreement signed between Monk Huang and the Sassoon family. The Green Gang gets 30% of the loading and unloading profits at the Shiliupu Wharf, the Sassoon family gets 40%, and the remaining 30% is taken by the people from the Dongying Tongwen Guan (Japanese Cultural Center). This agreement was signed last year, and I personally saw Monk Huang put his fingerprint on it."

Shen Li's expression changed.

Dongying Tongwen Guan?

That's not a cultural institution, a university, or a commercial organization.

That is currently Japan's largest intelligence outreach organization in China.

Almost all the major traitors in Shanghai in later generations had some connection with this organization. All the intelligence agencies in Shanghai in later generations also branched off from this organization.

This means that Monk Huang not only colluded with Jewish financial magnates, but also secretly cooperated with Japanese espionage activities.

Chen Zijun took the booklet and casually flipped through a few pages.

The handwriting was neat, and the content was extremely detailed. The casino's turnover was accurate to the single digit, and the opium den's supply channels were shown in a complete route map.

The person who can write something like this is definitely not an ordinary labor foreman.

"You can read?" Chen Zijun looked up at him.

"I attended a private school for two years," Feng Yong said, lowering his head. "Later, my family became poor, so I became an apprentice at a fruit stand and also carried sacks at the docks. It wasn't until I joined the Green Gang that I finally had a livelihood."

"So how did you get to where you are today?"

Feng Yong remained silent for a few seconds.

"It was Sister Gui who promoted him."

"Sister Gui?"

"Huang Heshang's wife, Su Guiying. The brothers all call her Sister Gui." Feng Yong said this name with obvious respect in his tone. "Sister Gui was the real person in charge of the Green Gang. Huang Heshang was the Chief Inspector of the Chinese Police in the French Concession, so he had some official backing. He only cared about drinking, socializing, and flattering the foreigners outside. The family business, the dock accounts, and the brothers' salaries were all managed by Sister Gui."

He looked up, a hint of bitterness flashing in his eyes.

"I, Feng Yong, was able to rise from an apprentice selling rotten fruit to the foreman of the South District entirely thanks to Sister Gui's respect for me, who promoted me step by step."

Chen Zijun leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.

"Since Sister Gui has been so kind to you, isn't it ungrateful of you to come and rely on me today?"

Feng Yong's body stiffened abruptly.

He was silent for a long time.

Then he answered in a deep and firm voice.

"Commander, although Monk Huang is my elder brother, he risked our lives to be a dog for the foreigners!"

"I have no complaints about the destruction of the Shiliupu Wharf. It was indeed Huang Heshang who instigated the blockade. But all the dead and injured were my brothers from the Southern District! And where is Huang Heshang? He's drinking coffee in his mansion in the French Concession!"

Feng Yong's voice grew louder and louder, and the veins on his neck bulged.

"Sister Gui also advised him not to get too close to foreigners. He wouldn't listen. Sister Gui said we couldn't let our brothers become cannon fodder. He wouldn't listen to that either. He only listened to that red-haired devil Felix from the Sassoon Trading Company!"

"While his brothers were getting shelled on the docks, he was counting his money in the French Concession. I don't recognize this kind of boss anymore!"

After saying this, Feng Yong knelt down straight.

"I, Feng Yong, am not here to surrender today. I'm here to enlist. My four thousand brothers from the Southern District and I are willing to serve under Commander Chen. From now on, we will fight wherever the Young Marshal commands. All we need is a meal."

The reception room was silent for a few seconds.

Chen Zijun did not speak immediately.

He closed the booklet, placed it on the table, and then looked at Feng Yong kneeling on the ground before speaking.

The voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear.

"stand up."

Feng Yong was taken aback.

"Let me tell you."

Feng Yong slowly stood up.

Chen Zijun stood up, walked up to him, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Feng Yong, I don't want your life, nor do I want you to kneel. I want you to do one thing."

"Commander, please speak."

"From today onwards, the southern area of Shiliupu is no longer the territory of the Green Gang. It is under the jurisdiction of the Shanghai Wharf Workers' Movement Administration. You are the director of this administration."

Feng Yong was stunned.

"The...the director?"

"Yes." Chen Zijun turned around, walked back to the armchair, sat down, and picked up his teacup.

"From today onwards, your four thousand laborers will be managed according to established regulations. Each will receive a monthly stipend of twelve silver dollars, with food and lodging arranged by the Labor Movement Bureau. Those injured will receive compensation, and those who die will receive funeral expenses. Their children can attend public schools."

He took a sip of tea.

"There's only one condition. No illicit activities. All casinos are shut down, all opium dens are closed, and all private warehouses are transferred to the quartermaster department. From today onward, loading and unloading operations at the docks will be conducted according to military standards: punctuality, efficiency, and no deductions."

"If you do well, you'll be my engineering battalion from now on; if you don't..."

Feng Yong's eyes immediately reddened.

Putting aside the engineering battalion and such, let's just talk about twelve silver dollars a month.

He worked for the Green Gang for over a decade. His laborers carried sacks for ten hours a day and earned seven or eight silver dollars a month, along with various grains, which barely made ends meet.

Most of the time, I can't even get five or six yuan.

Because casinos take a cut, opium dens take a cut, and there are various other forms of "contributions."

A laborer works hard for a month, but the money he earns isn't even enough to buy rice for his family.

Now Chen Zijun says, twelve silver dollars. All-inclusive (food and lodging). Schooling for the children.

This isn't just about inviting Feng Yong alone.

This was to save the lives of his four thousand brothers.

Feng Yong's knees buckled again.

But this time he did not kneel down.

He straightened his back, bowed deeply to Chen Zijun, and his voice was terribly hoarse.

"Feng Yong... Thank you, Young Marshal... for the meal."

"From this day forward, my life, Feng Yong's life, belongs to the Young Marshal. If the Young Marshal commands me to move goods, I will move goods; if he commands me to fight, I will fight. If I have any disloyalty, may I, Feng Yong, die a gruesome death."

Chen Zijun waved his hand.

"Alright, go back and prepare. The Labor Movement Administration will be officially established at the South District Wharf Building at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Mo Huixin will allocate the first month's pay and supplies. Take your people to collect them."

"Yes!"

Feng Yong bowed again, turned around and strode out of the reception room.

As he walked out the door, he stepped on something and stumbled, almost falling.

But he didn't turn around.

His back was ramrod straight.

After Feng Yong left.

Shen Li closed the door and walked to Chen Zijun's side.

"Young Marshal, can this person be trusted?"

Chen Zijun opened the booklet, pointed to the densely packed numbers inside, and said something.

"A guy who's been in charge of accounts for over a decade laid bare his former employer's secrets and handed them to me. Do you think he's reliable?"

"He didn't come to surrender. He came to burn the bridge. Once the bridge is burned, he'll have nowhere to retreat. People with nowhere to retreat are the most useful."

Shen Li thought for a moment and nodded.

"What about Monk Huang...?"

"No rush." Chen Zijun put the booklet back in the drawer. "Monk Huang will bring it on himself."

Just then, Mo Lanzhi called again.

Chen Zijun answered the receiver.

"Young Marshal," Mo Lanzhi's voice remained calm and composed.

"Have you finished negotiating with Feng Yong?"

"The talks are over. I'll take it."

"Okay. But Feng Yong isn't the only one who wants to jump ship."

Chen Zijun raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Who else?"

Mo Lanzhi was silent for two seconds.