Chapter 35: Chen Sheng’s Past

Jiang Butong was stunned for a moment, then quickly realized that it was Eagle who had told Jiang Yuan about the plan.

“Brother Yuan, this method is a bit of a shortcut, but right now it’s the safest and most effective for us,” Jiang Butong explained.

“I’ll stay one more day today, but tomorrow I have to be discharged,” Jiang Yuan said, itching for action, eager to get started.

The night passed swiftly.

The next morning, Eagle handled the discharge procedures for Jiang Yuan. Jiang Butong drove Jiang Yuan and Eagle back to the parking lot at the wholesale market.

Having spent two days in the hospital, Jiang Yuan couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy, even though his men had been watching over the parking lot.

When the little brothers saw Jiang Yuan, their faces were full of respect. They had followed many leaders before, but Jiang Yuan was the only one who led from the front.

Those previous bosses always hid in the shadows, valuing their own lives and interests above all else.

Jiang Yuan was different—loyal and righteous. Over these days, many had become truly devoted to him.

Jiang Butong asked for Jiang Yuan’s accounts, intending to check the parking lot’s income.

He flipped through the ledger; the handwriting was crooked and clumsy, obviously kept by someone with little schooling.

He could see that the current daily income was around two hundred yuan. Earlier, because of the monthly parking cards, Jiang Yuan had pocketed several thousand yuan.

But that money had already been spent by Jiang Yuan on food and drinks for his men—after all, he needed to win their loyalty.

Jiang Butong pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed to find Jiang Yuan a stable, long-term path for growth. If they relied solely on petty crimes, there was no way to support so many people.

If they got into trouble again, it wouldn’t be worth going back inside.

After Jiang Yuan finished talking with his men, he came over to Jiang Butong.

“Xiao Tong, do you think the income from the parking lot is good or bad? Is there any potential?” Jiang Yuan asked curiously. He knew that when it came to making money, he could never keep up with Jiang Butong’s thinking.

Jiang Butong tossed aside the ledger, leaned back in his chair, and said, “Right now, it’s too little. And as time goes on, your path is only going to get harder. I’ll come up with something better for you soon.”

Jiang Yuan nodded. He’d lived through the harsh crackdowns—back then, anyone who broke the law was dealt with swiftly and harshly. Now, returning to this way of life, he couldn’t say he wasn’t afraid.

After all, no one wanted to live each day on edge.

By afternoon, Jiang Yuan left two men at the parking lot; come night, there wasn’t much to do there anyway.

It was an era with little nightlife, and very few vehicles came and went at night.

Jiang Yuan gathered most of his men. Jiang Butong counted—nineteen people in total.

With himself and Jiang Yuan, that made twenty-one—enough to take on the Black Dog Gang.

According to Jiang Butong’s plan, half the men were sent to the private restaurant—not to help, but to keep watch at the hotel across the street, just in case.

Jiang Yuan personally led the remaining seven or eight, and Jiang Butong drove them to the assigned location.

After arranging everything, Jiang Butong went to Wang Yun’s shop. He called a nearby convenience store to have Chen Sheng notified that everything was ready.

Wang Yun, watching Jiang Butong on the phone, was full of curiosity—she’d seldom seen him contact others this way.

After hanging up, Jiang Butong and Wang Yun began tallying today’s income.

The first repeat customer who’d bought tapes came again today, this time ordering two hundred tapes, half of them “Boundless Sky.”

Wang Yun counted the day’s takings; with the scattered tape sales, turnover exceeded fifteen hundred yuan.

Of that, fourteen hundred came from the tapes, while her own shop’s revenue was just a little over a hundred yuan.

Wang Yun was somewhat unhappy. She’d thought the tapes would boost her shop’s business, but realized she was wrong—most people came only for them.

If not for Jiang Butong, her shop would be as bleak as ever, scraping by on a few outdated tapes and the occasional tape recorder.

“What’s wrong? We made money and you’re still not happy?” Jiang Butong noticed the slight frown on her brow.

“I was thinking, if I hadn’t met you, my business would still be as dismal as ever.” Wang Yun rested her chin in her hand, her enchanting eyes watching him with interest.

“Am I your lucky star?” Jiang Butong teased.

“Hmph, lucky star, you say…” Wang Yun wouldn’t admit it aloud, but in her heart, she agreed.

Women, after all, are always contradictory.

“I haven’t seen any profit yet,” Wang Yun said, opening a drawer that held only a meager sum.

Jiang Butong understood; the money was tied up in stock. When you’re turning things over, it’s normal not to see cash on hand.

From the first two-hundred-yuan order, to a thousand, to this two-thousand-yuan order, every time they sold tapes, the profits were reinvested in more orders. That’s why the cash hadn’t grown, but the tape stock had.

“There’s a mountain of gold behind you, just wait. Next order, we’ll double it to four thousand,” Jiang Butong said.

Wang Yun’s eyes widened. Four thousand? Wasn’t that a bit much?

“Don’t worry. I estimate the peak will be six thousand per order,” Jiang Butong smiled.

They had started with only a thousand yuan in capital—if they could build it to six thousand, that would be a sixfold increase.

“Come on, I’ll treat you to dinner.” Jiang Butong pinched her cheek—soft and smooth.

Wang Yun brushed his hand away, her charming eyes glaring, “You rascal, getting bolder by the day!”

“Didn’t I learn from you?” Jiang Butong replied.

She gave a little snort and rose to lock up the shop.

...

The Private Restaurant.

Business was booming as usual. Chen Sheng glanced at the clock on the wall—it was time. Borrowing the convenience store’s phone, he called a few acquaintances.

Since her last tape-selling venture earned her several hundred yuan, Chen Pan’er hadn’t set up her stall again.

Partly because Jiang Butong had advised her to wait until things calmed down after the Black Dog Gang was dealt with, and partly because he planned to help her start a new business.

He didn’t want Chen Pan’er running a street stall anymore; the market was still chaotic and unstable.

A few days ago, he’d spotted a shop for rent on another commercial street—rent was reasonable. After settling things with the Black Dog Gang, he’d take her to see it.

It was past eight in the evening.

Chen Sheng was cooking in the kitchen, coming out to check every so often. The guests he was waiting for hadn’t arrived.

Jiang Dazhuang was curious, unable to fathom why Chen Sheng kept running out front.

It wasn’t until after nine that five men entered. The one at the front had a stern air, authority apparent in his bearing.

Chen Sheng stepped out of the kitchen just then and, seeing the middle-aged man in the lead, broke into a smile.

“Officer Zhang, it’s been a long time,” Chen Sheng said warmly, quickly offering cigarettes to them.

“Old Chen, I didn’t expect your restaurant to be doing so well,” Officer Zhang said, looking around at the lively business.

“It’s all thanks to old friends supporting me. Come, have a seat over here,” Chen Sheng said, leading Officer Zhang to a quiet table.

The others might not know Officer Zhang, but Chen Sheng had known him for many years.

Zhang Jianguo, now deputy captain of the Criminal Investigation Division, had been an ordinary policeman when Chen Sheng was still in the underworld.

Back then, a gang war had been broken up by Zhang Jianguo, right in the midst of the first major crackdown. Chen Sheng was arrested and spent several years in prison, and it was Zhang Jianguo who had taken him in.

After his release, Chen Sheng grew weary of the underworld and chose to turn over a new leaf. Many old friends came to witness it, and standing out among them was Zhang Jianguo.

Having arrested Chen Sheng, Zhang Jianguo later learned, by chance, that Chen Sheng’s wife was pregnant and struggling. He felt a pang of guilt and quietly sent people to help.

“Old Chen, seeing you on the straight and narrow now makes me truly glad,” Zhang Jianguo said with emotion.

Almost twenty years had passed in the blink of an eye. They had grown old, their faces and brows now marked by wrinkles.