Reborn in Hong Kong, my cousin is Crippled Ho

Chapter 108 Letter

To my nephew Yuanshan, I hope you are well.

The ancestral halls within the village are peaceful and the incense is burning steadily, so you need not worry.

I'd like to inform you that your father, Huaijin, was specially picked up from his hometown ten days ago by a military vehicle belonging to a government official.

There was no detention or questioning, and no disturbance to the neighbors.

The visitor was kind and gentle. Based on my assessment of the situation, I believe it was a business requisition, not a misfortune, but an auspicious sign. You can rest assured.

You asked a friend to bring you three thousand doses of penicillin.

I have inventoried and sealed the items, and in the name of the head of the Lin clan of Nansha, I went to Zhanglin Commune the following day to entrust the matter to the long-standing friendship between the two clans.

Out of consideration for family ties, a safe and secure transaction for consignment sales was made.

The source of the drug remains a secret among the three parties.

This will ensure you have room to maneuver while you're in Hong Kong!

As you are doing business in the port, you must adhere to the ancestral precepts of Nansha: keep your sharp edge hidden, stay away from armed conflicts, and avoid entanglements with gangsters.

Your father sent you away from your hometown, only seeking a stable life for you, not seeking empty fame or favors.

When you are away from home, be cautious in everything you do.

My words are brief and inadequate; I humbly request that you take good care of yourself.

Written by Lin Zonglan of Nansha in the first month of winter, the year of Guimao (I imitated "A Love Letter to Mother" in this style, so please bear with it. My writing skills are limited, so this is the best I can do.)

After reading the letter from the clan chief, Lin Yuanshan's eyelids twitched repeatedly.

I fucking thought I was the main character because I ran a factory in Hong Kong for a month.

The clan chief told me that my cheap dad was taken away in a camouflage jeep.

Could it be that the old man carrying a manure scoop is actually Zhu Shimao, who has infiltrated the enemy?

The man was no longer in his hometown, and Lin Yuanshan had a bellyful of complaints, but nowhere to vent them. Putting away the letter, he suppressed his doubts and asked Biandanwei about the gains from his trip.

Seeing that Lin Yuanshan showed no panic or sadness upon learning of his father's disappearance, Bian Danwei secretly clicked his tongue in amazement. What a ruthless man!

Composing himself, Biandanwei respectfully said, "3000 penicillin vials. The current smuggling market price in mainland China is 8 yuan per vial."

I offered 6 yuan, and both the old clan chief and the Zhanglin Commune were very satisfied.

It was about the payment for the goods; they spent a whole day gathering it, which is why I was delayed on my return trip.

As he spoke, Biandanwei opened the tin mooncake box in front of him, inside which were bundles of banknotes tied with red rope.

Lin Yuanshan glanced at it: "Give 1000 yuan to the brothers who accompanied you on this voyage, I'll take 8000 yuan with me, and the rest is for you as capital."

By the way, before you came back, did your family tell you when you should visit next time?

"Yes! They made a list of urgently needed supplies, mainly Western medicine."

"They told me to prepare as much as I could in ten days, and they even finalized the landing point and the rendezvous code." Biandanwei excitedly pulled out a notepad, which even had the commune's letterhead on it.

It is evident that during this period, smuggling goods from Hong Kong to the coast was a matter of very little effort.

Lin Yuanshan glanced at it briefly and handed the purchase order to the clerk Ming: "Go, rewrite it, and burn the original."

The letter told me to be cautious, but the purchase order was written on commune stationery—that's outrageous!

The clerk Ming responded and came over, taking the document to the side to copy it.

Having confirmed that Biandanwei had made contact with his family, Lin Yuanshan got up to leave.

The two had agreed that Lin Yuanshan would provide the connections and Biandanwei would provide the manpower. The former would not interfere with how the latter worked and would only need to wait for the dividends.

Worried that Lin Yuanshan and his companion might be unsafe carrying such a large sum of 8000 yuan late at night.

Biandanwei sent Shen Dahui to escort the horse with two people.

Shortly after Lin Yuanshan left, just as Biandanwei was humming a little tune and handing out red envelopes to the brothers who had gone out to sea,

A henchman ran in: "Boss, Lanmingbiao is outside. He says he wants to have a drink with you."

"Hmm? Coming at this time?" Biandanwei's gaze was icy as he slowly swept across the faces of his men: "Who leaked the news?"

Now I'll confess, leave three fingers behind, and then I'll leave.

But when I found out, it wasn't just a severed finger that could explain it!

No one answered. Biandanwei sneered, stood up, walked to the door, and said to Lanmingbiao, who was carrying two sticks of Acanthopanax senticosus, "Brother Biao, I just got back from outside, and you come to ask me for drinks? I think even that blind fortune teller on Temple Street isn't as accurate as you!"

"Ah Wei, tsk tsk tsk————" Lanmingbiao, speaking in a hoarse voice, raised the Wujiapi in his hand: "Smuggling, it's not a big secret."

Look, starting from Amin's territory and counting up to yours, in the entire area, who hasn't done this?

If you weren't doing this for a living, why did you fight so fiercely with Amin last month? Was it really just to find your men a job carrying heavy loads?

With just a few words, Lanmingbiao left Biandanwei with nowhere to vent his anger.

After waving his men away, Biandanwei pointed to the warehouse: "Brother Biao is indeed Brother Biao, you're quite the smooth talker. No wonder my master speaks highly of you. Please."

"Huh, Limping Qing actually praised me?" Lanmingbiao walked over carrying a wine cup: "However, your master has finally made it through this time."

Two days ago, Lin Yuanshan cut the ribbon at his new factory in To Kwa Wan.

Your master wears a suit and tie, and even his socks are designer brands.

"Damn, we're all from the same generation. I'm still drinking Wujiapi (a type of Chinese herbal medicine), and your master is already drinking Remy Martin with Lin Yuanshan."

"Ha! My master is really that impressive!" Biandanwei was both surprised and delighted, and didn't even care about Lanmingbiao's contemptuous nickname for Li Jianqing.

Lanmingbiao had already entered the office. As he sat down, he tossed the newspaper he had been carrying under his arm onto the coffee table: "Here, take a look for yourself, it's in the newspaper."

Even if he's only photographed a tiny bit, I can recognize him at a glance.

Hanjinqing, Lanmingbiao, and Yutouming are all contemporaries.

Biandanwei is actually a generation younger than the three men, but before Hanjinqing retired, he had already become a Red Pole (a high-ranking official in the Communist Party). Now he holds the real position of a district hall master, which is enough for him to talk to Lanmingbiao on equal terms.

In the world of martial arts, status is always determined by one's strength.

Seniority is just a bonus; to earn respect, you also need influence and connections.

Biandanwei picked up the newspaper and, sure enough, recognized a familiar figure on the edge of the photo.

"Always so handsome." Tapping the newspaper with his fingers, Bian Danwei added, "Mr. Lin is even more handsome."

Just as Lanmingbiao pulled the cork from his ginseng bottle, he heard this and burst out laughing: "Neither of them are here. Are you trying to flatter thin air?"

Biandanwei ignored him, took out 10 yuan and handed it to a henchman, telling him to buy something to go with his drinks.

Seeing that he threw out 10 yuan right away, Lanmingbiao's eyes flickered slightly: "Awei, it seems you made quite a bit of money on this trip."

"Just small-time stuff, barely making a living. I can't compare to Brother Biao." Biandanwei chuckled, grabbed Wujiapi, and chug down two cups.

Lanmingbiao raised his glass and clinked it with Biandanwei, getting straight to the point: "Wei, Mr. Lin's new factory has already opened in To Kwa Wan."

He won't be able to take care of Sham Shui Po much in the future.

What are your plans for the future? Do you have any ideas about moving from Shek Kip Mei to To Kwa Wan to work for him?