Courtyard House: Home Alone

"Young master, I've arrived."

Chen Gongshu's voice came through the communicator, slightly breathless, "The room is nice, with a view of the Haihe River."

"The tail stopped on the third floor, probably checking if you were going there." Lin Yifan withdrew his mental energy and focused on the sounds inside the coffee shop. "Check the room for any listening devices."

"clear."

A rustling sound came from the communicator; Chen Gongshu was moving furniture and knocking on the walls. Lin Yifan continued sipping his coffee, his gaze fixed on the newspaper, but his mental energy surged towards the third floor like a tide.

The Germans and Frenchmen were still talking, but their pace had quickened considerably, occasionally punctuated by the sound of them slamming their fists on the table.

There was another person in Smith's room, who was adjusting a square machine with the words "Western Electric" printed on its metal casing.

The Englishman John changed the record on his phonograph, and the woman's laughter turned into a lingering aria.

The four Japanese agents in the eavesdropping team each stood at their posts, earpieces pressed tightly against their surfaces, pens scratching away on their papers. Lin Yifan "saw" that one of them had written in Japanese on his paper: "Germany and France are arguing, the US is adjusting its equipment, and the UK is having fun."

"Young master, the room is clean." Chen Gongshu's voice interrupted his observation. "I checked the chandelier, the sockets, under the bed, and the heating pipes; nothing unusual."

"Okay. Now use the phone in your room to call room 333 downstairs. The Englishman John lives in that room. Invite him to your room first."

One point you discussed with them this time was finding out if their gold reserves were ready and when they could be traded. The same thing happened with the French and Germans.

The American, Smith, was brought up last, saying he was sent by Mr. Tang to confirm the details of the transaction, asking when the equipment would arrive and where the transaction would take place.

"What if he asks why Old Master Tang didn't come in person?"

"Just say the old man is unwell and has entrusted someone to act on his behalf. When the time comes, just show them the business card I gave you on the way," Lin Yifan said softly.

Chen Gongshu responded from upstairs.

The hall was bustling with people: Japanese merchants in kimonos, compradors from foreign firms in Western suits, and local gentlemen in long robes and mandarin jackets. All sorts of faces intertwined to create a unique ukiyo-e scene in the concession.

Lin Yifan's mental power, like invisible tentacles, moved through the crowd, capturing every unusual fluctuation.

The man in the dark blue long gown who had been following Chen Gongshu had returned to the rest area and was looking down at a copy of the Ta Kung Pao newspaper.

"Interesting," Lin Yifan thought to himself.

Lin Yifan got up and walked towards the restroom. Once there, he took out another communicator from his spatial storage and tuned it to the frequency for communication with Xu Zheng: "Xu Zheng, respond."

A moment later, a hoarse voice rang out: "Young master, I am Xu Zheng."

"How's the housing situation going?"

"There's a villa with a yard on Victoria Road in the British Concession. The original owner was a bankrupt comprador who was eager to sell. Eighteen hundred silver dollars, the transaction can be completed today."

"Take it. Also, after the house is bought, you and Liu Quande, along with two other people, will move into the new house. I'll be there tonight."

"I understand. I'll take care of it right away," Xu Zheng said.

He disconnected the communication and turned off the tap. The person in the mirror looked normal, except for a hint of coldness hidden in their eyes.

Back at the coffee shop, Chen Gongshu's voice came through the communicator, tinged with caution: "Young master, John the Englishman has agreed to come up in ten minutes."

"Just talk to them as I told you, and let me know when you're done. I'll keep an eye on the surroundings."

Also, there's something very important I forgot to tell you: tell them that if they resell the medicine to the Japanese, we will terminate all future cooperation.

"Understood." Chen Gongshu paused. "Young master, should this clause be added to the contract?"

"No need."

Lin Yifan picked up his now-cold coffee, his gaze falling on the cargo ships on the Haihe River outside the window. "A verbal warning is enough. If it really comes to that, the contract is nothing but a piece of waste paper."

A deep response came from Chen Gongshu through the communicator, followed by the sound of the door opening. Lin Yifan extended his mental energy to the fourth floor and "saw" Chen Gongshu standing by the window, pulling back the curtains a crack, his gaze sweeping over the boats on the Haihe River.

John the Englishman arrived right on time. Ten minutes later, the sound of leather shoes tapping on the wooden floor echoed in the corridor, a light, almost nonchalant rhythm. Chen Gongshu opened the door and let him in.

"Mr. Zhou?" John's Chinese had a heavy London accent, with a slight rise in pitch at the end. "Old Master Tang's agent?"

"Exactly."

Chen Gongshu's voice came through the communicator, sounding more mellow than usual, "Mr. John, please have a seat. Tea or coffee?"

"Whiskey, if you have any."

Lin Yifan's lips twitched slightly. This Englishman certainly knew how to put on airs. He enveloped room 412 with his mental energy and "saw" John sitting casually in an armchair, his blond hair neatly combed, and a Freemason badge pinned to his collar.

"Old Master Tang is not in good health," Chen Gongshu said calmly, "I will be acting as your agent for this transaction. Mr. John, is your gold ready?"

John tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest twice. "The gold has been deposited with HSBC. But for your side, I wonder when the medicine will arrive?"

"Mr. John, our medicine has arrived, and we can complete the transaction at any time."

Chen Gongshu took out a gold-edged contract from his briefcase and slowly spread it out on the coffee table: "However, before that, there are some rules that must be stated in advance."

John took the contract, his blue eyes scanning the densely packed, tiny characters, a slight smile playing on his lips: "Mr. Zhou is certainly cautious."

"In chaotic times, caution is the key to longevity." Chen Gongshu poured him a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the crystal glass. "Please take a look at this last clause, Mr. John."

John's gaze fell on the end of the contract, his brow furrowing slightly: "No resale to third parties?"

"Especially the Japanese." Chen Gongshu's voice remained gentle, yet it was like a blade slicing through silk. "Old Master Tang said that if anyone sells 'Ghost' goods to the Japanese, all future transactions will be terminated."

John's finger hovered over the rim of the glass, and after a moment, he tilted his head back and downed the whiskey in one gulp. The crisp sound of the ice cubes hitting the glass was particularly clear in the quiet room.

"Is Mr. Zhou joking?"

He set down his cup, his blond hair falling across his forehead. "We British merchants have always valued our reputation. Besides, this little bit of medicine isn't even enough for our own use."

"That would be best." Chen Gongshu put away the contract, his smile unchanged. "The transaction is scheduled for tomorrow at noon; the location will be announced later. Does Mr. John have any objections?"

"No."