“I suggest you change your name and rewrite your job application letter.”
Jiang Mingxi gritted her teeth and said, “I guess your current name is already blacklisted by many foreign companies.”
Fatty hung his head low, bashfully nodding. The confident air he had when advising Jiang Mingxi had long since vanished.
His rough fingers unconsciously rubbed the corner of his clothes, his whole posture drooping like a frostbitten eggplant.
“If you trust me, I’ll write that job application letter for you.”
Jiang Mingxi’s tone was steady as her gaze swept over the enamel products on the stall, their surfaces glinting coldly under the sunlight. “What you buy from elsewhere isn’t reliable; family relatives wouldn’t dare cheat you.”
Fatty’s face instantly lit up with joy; his small eyes sparkled, and the fat on his face quivered with excitement.
He hurriedly leaned forward, almost bumping into the enamel stove displayed on the stall.
Having suffered enough from chasing cheap deals, this time he gritted his teeth and told Jiang Mingxi, “As long as you write a flawless job application letter, I’ll pay you two yuan as a reward!” He then dug into his inner pocket and pulled out a worn-out wallet.
Unexpectedly, this Taizuogong turned out to be warm-hearted. With a generous wave of his hand, his sleeve rolled up to reveal a slender wrist. “Among relatives, what money can we talk about? I wouldn’t charge for a cousin’s matters.”
Fatty was deeply moved.
He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, silently thinking that the old saying was true: thunder up in the sky, and uncle down on earth.
He quickly bought some high-quality stationery from a nearby stall. The paper shimmered with a gentle creamy white under the sunlight.
Then he borrowed a fountain pen and carefully moved the small enamel stove aside, making space on the shaky wooden table.
Jiang Mingxi took the pen in hand; the nib sparkled faintly in the sunlight.
She stared at the plain white envelope for a moment, then calmly began to write.
The nib scratched softly against the paper.
Fatty held his breath, watching silently beside her, his hands unconsciously clenched into fists.
His Taizuogong’s gaze was serene as water, and the pen danced like a god’s. Line after line of elegant, uniform, flourishing English poured out. The letters were perfectly sized, the spacing even, almost like printed text.
Though Fatty couldn’t understand English, he knew good from bad. He had painstakingly copied his own job application letter over ten times, his wrist aching, barely managing a rough imitation.
Seeing his Taizuogong’s lively, vibrant calligraphy now, he was shocked at how stiff and dull his own writing had been.
Fatty admired the exquisite flourishes; the more he looked, the more familiar they seemed, until suddenly he understood—
This was the exact sample the Second-hand Shop Owner had used for his shop sign!
He had liked it at first sight, but the shop owner had asked a lion’s price of ten yuan!
He had almost lost his temper, cursing the man for being a money-grabber.
The boss had just rolled his eyes and said that the letter’s author was some British noble, a certain Sir Something-or-Other, a celebrity.
Since it was from a famous person, the handwriting was extraordinary, and selling it for just ten yuan was already a bargain.
Fatty had long suspected the boss was lying to cheat him, but seeing his Taizuogong write such beautiful English now, his curiosity got the better of him.
He rubbed his hands and asked, “Taizuogong, where did you learn English?”
Jiang Mingxi finished the last stroke, lifted the pen lightly, and looked up to answer, “By chance, I studied a little with an English gentleman.”
Her voice was calm, but her gaze still lingered on the paper.
She scrutinized her own letter, growing more dissatisfied by the moment.
On the train, Lewis had taught her generously, but time was limited.
In truth, Jiang Mingxi had only attempted to copy some poems on the train.
Her vocabulary was limited, and she only knew basic grammar, so the whole application letter was written in very simple language.
She had done her best to quote famous sayings and classical poetry, hoping to convince the foreign employer that the applicant had a high level of cultural literacy.
As for the handwriting, she was also unhappy.
Remembering how Lewis’s penmanship flowed like water, elegant and beautiful, she looked at her own stiff and clumsy imitation with an urge to tear it up and rewrite.
But she knew her limits; even if she tore it up, she wouldn’t be able to write better now.
She resolved to rent a place in Shanghai and make attending university English classes her first priority.
“The gentleman who taught you English, was he a noble?” Fatty interrupted her thoughts eagerly, leaning forward with curiosity shining in his eyes.
Was Lewis a noble?
He never said.
Nor had she asked.
She certainly didn’t have the leisure for such things!
“Probably not.”
Jiang Mingxi replied uncertainly. “Although he traveled First Class, he was very approachable and spoke English, French, German, and many other languages. He also wrote Latin and believed in God. He should be a missionary.”
She scoffed inwardly. Who among them wasn’t arrogant? Even some of those Old Calendar loyalists from the Qing still acted high and mighty, making others grovel even in the Republic era.
Fatty was convinced. That was common enough.
Nowadays, many people’s English came from missionary schools. Though some missionaries exploited the people cruelly, there were truly virtuous ones among them.
He said enviously, raising his voice a few octaves, “I have a cousin who followed a devout missionary and memorized the Bible from childhood. He learned authentic Evangelical English. Blessed by God, after graduating from a church school, he started smuggling opium on British turf, making a fortune and even married a foreign wife.”
He spoke with such enthusiasm that it seemed like he shared the glory himself.
Jiang Mingxi was speechless.
She thought that God probably wouldn’t bless that.
And it was hardly good for the missionary either.
But then she reconsidered — weren’t the British the ones who first ruined China with opium? Not returning the favor would be impolite.
So the cousin was just following the fine traditions of the Chinese nation.
Still…
Jiang Mingxi frowned, puzzled, and asked, “If you have that kind of connection, why don’t you seize the chance to seriously learn English?”
Mentioning English learning made Fatty’s face scrunch up like a ball, obviously full of grievances.
He complained at length to Jiang Mingxi about how English was gibberish, twisted and impossible to remember no matter how much he tried.
In the end, he even complimented Jiang Mingxi, saying if he were just one-tenth as smart as her, he’d surely master English.
Was he dumb for not learning?
Jiang Mingxi didn’t think so.
Dumb people don’t do business. And from their conversation, he wasn’t stupid; if anything, he was clever.
She concluded silently that, frankly, he just didn’t want to put in the effort.
She truly didn’t understand people like him.
In her previous life, she had desperately wanted to learn and improve but never had the chance.
Yet here was someone with abundant learning opportunities, living in a wealthy family, not lacking money, and still wasting it all, only looking for shortcuts.
Truly, some are doomed to fail either way.
Although Jiang Mingxi despised Fatty’s laziness and lack of ambition, business was business.
With the English letter in hand, when she mentioned wanting to resell the small enamel stoves, Fatty’s attitude improved considerably.
People from Guangdong were very particular about kinship and regional ties; same clan, same hometown, same roots.
Naturally, they banded together and helped each other when away from home.
Moreover, since this warm-hearted Taizuogong had done him a big favor, Fatty cheerfully gave Jiang Mingxi wholesale prices.
So Jiang Mingxi bought 100 small enamel stoves from him at two yuan each wholesale.
Because the stock at his stall was insufficient, Skinny rushed to the warehouse to fetch more. After rushing about, they barely gathered 100 stoves before the train’s departure.
Fatty smiled broadly at this big customer, “If you sell well in Shanghai, just write to me! I’ll keep supplying you. If the orders grow bigger, I’ll give you even better prices.”
He carefully wrote down his address for Jiang Mingxi.
Fatty indeed gave her a fair price.
Because the enamel technology wasn’t mastered domestically, all enamel products were imported, so prices were naturally high.
A single enamel basin retailed for one or two yuan, and slightly larger enamel buckets cost between two and four yuan.
As for enamel stoves, because of their materials and manufacturing complexity, the market price hovered around four yuan.
But Fatty’s business was practically cost-free; the expensive part was the materials, and modifying them into small stoves cost almost nothing.
So Jiang Mingxi guessed that even selling to her at one yuan wholesale, Fatty would still profit.
Looking at the pile of shining enamelware under the sun, Jiang Mingxi felt a flush of warmth.
This was the advantage of controlling the supply.
Enamel… it wasn’t only used for stoves.
She had already begun secretly planning how to seize this free enamel source in the future and resolved to cultivate a good relationship with these two men.
In any case, 100 small enamel stoves were definitely overweight.
Jiang Mingxi paid an extra seven or eight yuan in overweight fees.
But when she sold these stoves in Shanghai, she would easily break even and net one or two hundred yuan in profit, so the shipping cost was nothing.
In anxious anticipation, the train finally let out a long, weary whistle.
Surrounded by a thunderous roar of steam, it slowly pulled into Shanghai Station.
The platform immediately erupted like a boiling pot, voices clamoring, people in long gowns, suits, and short jackets carrying heavy bundles flooding the train doors like a tide.
Jiang Mingxi was swept along with the crowd as she got off.
The air was filled with a peculiar mixture of coal smoke, sweat, and various goods.
She carried her luggage and scanned the noisy crowd. Following the signs, she found the luggage storage and completed the deposit procedures for the 100 small enamel stoves.
Just as she turned around, a solid bump hit her right shoulder.
Shanghai Station was the largest in the Far East; crowds and collisions were common.
The one who bumped into her was a young man in a gray cloth short jacket, his face ordinary, easy to lose in a crowd.
He muttered “Sorry” vaguely, but his eyes flicked quickly to the pocket she had just touched, as if the bustling crowd had accidentally shoved him beside her.
Jiang Mingxi smiled faintly, stepping forward just enough to block the hand that reached toward her pocket.
The luggage deposit only recognized tickets; stealing the ticket meant claiming the goods unlawfully.
Thus, this petty thief specialized in targeting people who had just finished depositing their luggage.
His attempt came up empty; his fingertips only brushed coarse fabric.
He muttered under his breath, “Bad luck,” blaming his misfortune for missing the fat sheep.
He dared not show any expression and quickly withdrew his hand, shooting a hateful glance at the young woman’s retreating back, then slipped into the crowd and disappeared.
Still, his luck wasn’t all bad today.
After wandering a bit, he spotted a merchant wearing a brocade vest.
This time his move was quick and clean—a gold ring of considerable weight slipped into his pocket.
Feeling the cold hardness of the ring, he grinned secretly. Today’s food and cigarettes were guaranteed; he could call it a day.
He ducked behind a thick pillar on the platform, counting his haul proudly: several copper coins, a well-made ring…
He habitually patted his chest to take out his old pocket watch to check the time but felt nothing!
His chest was empty and cold!
His face went pale in an instant, cold sweat soaking his shirt.
Where was the pocket watch?
It was his father’s heirloom!
When had he lost it? Had it been stolen in that collision? Such a loss on the streets was unforgivable!
He rushed around the station like a headless fly, grabbing familiar faces to ask anxiously, gesturing wildly.
Finally, he was directed to the Piaobazi who controlled this part of Shanghai Station.
According to long-standing rules, stolen goods must first be handed over to the Piaobazi for safekeeping for three days.
If the original owner was influential and the word spread, the Piaobazi would secretly return the items, buying peace.
In a smoke-filled, secluded tea room, the Piaobazi listened to his tearful story.
The man was a thin old man in his fifties, his eyelids drooping as he puffed on a water pipe.
He sneered and exhaled two smoke dragons from his nostrils: “Kid, have you got your eyes on your feet? You stole from the grandmaster’s head, no wonder you dropped the goods!”
Seeing the young man still confused and frightened, the Piaobazi tapped his pipe and generously explained,
“When you reached out, that man just happened to take a step forward. That’s when you lost your watch.”
The Piaobazi puffed his pipe, impressed. “This move’s like Su Qin carrying a sword on his back—masterful. Looks like a fierce outsider is coming to stomp on our Shanghai Bund docks.”
Seeing the youth scared out of his wits, the Piaobazi chuckled and softened his tone.
“Little brother, don’t panic. These things happen; no need to make a fuss. Go home and wait quietly. That gentleman will come to settle this sooner or later. Prepare your ransom in advance. When the time comes, pay up honestly, and I’ll host a table with some harmonious wine. Pay your respects properly, and the matter will be settled.”
Sure enough, within three days, the Piaobazi sent for him.
Nervous, he entered the tea room again, his calves weak.
The room was dimly lit, filled with a heavier smoke and tea aroma.
The host was still the Piaobazi, seated solemnly.
On two rows of rosewood chairs below sat several well-known veteran thieves of the Shanghai Bund, each with sharp eyes and different expressions.
Only one was unfamiliar— a young man in a crisp dark long gown, with sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes, handsome and radiating a clear, refined aura that clashed with the gloomy environment.
He sat quietly in the honored guest seat on the Piaobazi’s left.
Upon seeing him enter, the young man smiled playfully, eyes sparkling as if seeing through everything, full of interested scrutiny.
Before the Piaobazi could speak, the young man almost sprang forward, bowing deeply with lowered brows, voice trembling and timid:
“I… I was blind and rude to challenge the elders’ authority! I… I have prepared the silver dollars. Please, noble sirs, have mercy and return my watch!”
His words stumbled and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
Under the watchful eyes of the Piaobazi and the elders, a simple ritual took place.
He nervously presented silver dollars wrapped in red cloth, and they smiled as they retrieved the polished old pocket watch from a sleeve, gently placing it in his hands.
Thus, the silver and goods were exchanged.
After the transaction, the Piaobazi cleared his throat, sat upright, and solemnly glanced around before announcing:
“Today, I called the elder brothers here mainly to introduce a new friend.”
“This is Mr. Jiang Mingchuan. Though he comes from the docks, he’s an old hand here. You’ve all heard of his skills. When you return, watch your subordinates carefully, keep your eyes sharp, and don’t let water flood the Dragon King’s temple, causing harm among our own.”
Under the gaze of these seasoned thieves, Jiang Mingxi calmly stood and smiled.
She cupped her fists and bowed respectfully, saying, “I am new to this treasured place. From now on, I hope to make a living here in the Ten-Mile Foreign District. I’m still unfamiliar with many rules, so I ask all esteemed seniors to kindly look after me and make things convenient.”
Whether sincere or polite, the crowd returned the gesture and answered with a chorus of voices:
“Nonsense, Mr. Jiang, you’re too polite!”
“Mr. Jiang has great skills! Youthful and promising!”
“Please continue to take good care of us brothers!”
Some even loudly praised, “Jiang’s ‘Su Qin carrying a sword’ technique is truly transcendent! I’ll have to learn from you one day!”
Jiang Mingxi kept a proud smile on her face, finally feeling a heavy stone in her heart settle.
With this, she had formally sworn allegiance to Shanghai Station’s docks according to the rules.
To establish a foothold and do business in the chaotic and strict Shanghai Bund was no easy task.
These past few days, she had done almost nothing but carry gifts, clutch silver dollars, follow her previous life’s memories, ask around for connections, and make visits to all kinds of “immortals,” using both soft and hard tactics.
Still, the results were gratifying.
At least this crucial gate was open.
Her company and goods would henceforth be relatively safe, unlikely to be stolen or burned easily, and she wouldn’t be inexplicably taken hostage as “meat collateral.”
Next, Jiang Mingxi could finally place advertisements in the newspapers and promote her own advertising company.
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