Chapter 24: Buying a Ship

The Yangpi Lane Prison, also known as the "Second Site," was where the Bureau of Investigation and Statistics kept inmates with minor offenses and short sentences. In reality, however, prisoners held at any of the three sites—A, B, or C—were not subject to judicial trials, nor were there any clear guidelines for sentencing. The length of one's stay and the possibility of release depended entirely on Dai Li's mood.

After leaving the Third Intelligence Section, Song Yingge drove straight to Yangpi Lane to interrogate Zhao Yaobang. Zhao was in his twenties, wearing a pair of broken glasses; his complexion was sallow, and his cheeks were sunken. As Song approached, he caught a whiff of a nauseating stench coming from the man. It was clear that Zhao had suffered greatly over the past month.

"You dog of a secret agent!" Zhao spat as soon as he opened his mouth.

He certainly had quite a temper. Yet, to still have the nerve to curse after enduring so much suggested he was made of stern stuff. Song Yingge was not angered; on the contrary, he felt a flicker of admiration. This era was in desperate need of such men. Besides, he was cursing the secret service, and what did that have to do with him?

"I am Song Yingge from the Fourth Intelligence Section," he explained. "I’ve come at the request of Zhao Yaohui to help you."

"My brother?" Zhao asked.

"That’s right. Do you want to get out of here?" Song asked.

"Of course I do. This place is no place for a human being," Zhao replied. "Can you really get me out?"

"If you are willing to cooperate, I am eighty percent sure I can," said Song.

"As long as it doesn’t violate my principles, I am willing to cooperate," Zhao declared.

"And what are your principles?"

"I will not bow or scrape to the powerful, nor will I lose my joy for their sake!" Zhao proclaimed with righteous indignation.

"Then stay here and rot. I can’t help you at all," Song said, rising as if to leave.

"Don't go, brother! My principles are very flexible. Just tell me what you have in mind," Zhao pleaded quickly.

Song couldn't help but admire the man's optimism, given how long he had been rotting in this cell. Song stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Do you know why you've been locked up for so long?"

"Because that day I cursed someone who looked like a big shot from the secret service?" Zhao whispered.

"Exactly. The man you offended was Dai Li, the head of the Bureau. He was there on an inspection, and his subordinates heard you clearly. If he didn't punish you, where would his authority be?"

"Even if I wanted to praise him now, he wouldn't be able to hear me," Zhao lamented.

"Who says he can't hear you?" Song replied.

Dai Li’s control over the Bureau was absolute; even the Fourth Intelligence Section surely had his eyes and ears everywhere. Perhaps a secret report on Song Yingge himself landed on Dai Li’s desk every month.

"I’ve been cursing him at the top of my lungs every day," Zhao worried. "Will he know about that too?"

"Try to keep a civil tongue," Song said, exasperated. "If you want out, listen to me."

"Tell me, I promise to listen," Zhao agreed.

Song leaned in and whispered his instructions. "Do as I say, and you'll be out in less than three days."

"It's that simple?" Zhao asked, skeptical.

"It is that simple," Song replied with confidence.

After leaving Yangpi Lane, Song walked two hundred meters east to Tianyin Lane. He went home, loaded three boxes of gold bars into his car, and drove toward the Xiaguan Pier. Following Zhongshan North Road, he passed through Yijiang Gate and arrived at the Commercial Port Street, where Zhao Yaohui’s Shunjiang Shipping Company was located.

Song parked the car, picked up the boxes, and walked straight inside. He found Zhao Yaohui busy with some paperwork and staff. Song waited quietly until Zhao noticed him.

"Why didn't you say anything? Come, please, inside," Zhao greeted him warmly.

"I didn't want to interrupt your work," Song smiled.

They retreated into Zhao's office. It was sparsely furnished—a tea table, a desk, a filing cabinet, and the only eye-catching item: a wooden model of a steamship.

"Your brother’s case wasn't serious; he should have been out in two days," Song began directly. "But he had a foul mouth and offended the Director, which is why he’s been held so long."

"That boy has always had a loose tongue. I knew he’d get into trouble sooner or later," Zhao sighed.

"This matter could be handled either way, but it depends on the Director's attitude," Song said.

Zhao pulled a small wooden box from the cabinet. "These ten gold bars have been ready for a long time. I’ve realized that the most terrifying thing isn't giving money, but not being able to give it at all. My dear friend, regardless of the outcome, if you can just deliver this money, I will at least have peace of mind."

"Always look on the bright side," Song said, taking the box.

"Thank you for your trouble. Please, don't think these two bars are too little," Zhao said, offering a small cloth bag as well.

"You're being too formal, Brother Zhao. I can't accept this. But I do have a favor to ask," Song said, opening the three boxes he had brought and pushing them toward Zhao.

"What is this?" Zhao asked, staring at the pile of shimmering gold.

"Sixty gold bars. I want to buy a few ships. They don't have to be new—even ones on the verge of being scrapped will do, as long as they can float and sail," Song said.

"Those kinds of ships can't handle shipping routes. It’s a guaranteed loss," Zhao thought Song had lost his mind.

"It doesn't matter. Based on my budget, how many can I get?"

"About five or six," Zhao estimated.

"Fine. I’ll leave that to you, and the faster, the better," Song said.

"No problem." Though Zhao didn't understand Song's game, he agreed.

After exchanging a few more words, Song took his leave. Back at Caodu Lane, he carried the box of gold to see Dai Li. Since returning from Chang'an, Dai Li had been in high spirits, especially after Chiang Kai-shek dissolved the Fuxingshe, leaving Dai Li’s position more secure than ever.

"Director," Song saluted.

"Come, sit and have some tea," Dai Li beckoned.

He was grateful he had followed Song’s advice to rescue the Generalissimo; otherwise, his fate would have been no better than the elders of the Fuxingshe. *The master was right,* he thought. *If I hadn't found this 'precious wood' (a pun on Song Yingge's name), I wouldn't have survived this trial.* He patted Song’s shoulder affectionately.

"Uncle, I have a request. Please, don't be angry when you hear it," Song said.

"If I get angry, will you not say it?" Dai Li asked with a straight face.

"You are a magnanimous man; you wouldn't hold a grudge against a mere youth like me," Song quipped.

"Let's hear it," Dai Li said with a laugh.

"There is an inmate in Yangpi Lane named Zhao Yaobang. I wonder if you remember him?" Song asked cautiously.

"You want to bail him out?" Dai Li’s expression turned cold.