dmims Chapter 29 What if an uneducated person becomes an acquaintance?
Chapter 29 What if an uneducated person becomes an acquaintance?
Gangs ran rampant in Shanghai, with over four hundred registered gangs.
Large gangs like the Green Gang controlled 70% of Shanghai's opium trade, dock freight, and entertainment venues, with over 100,000 members!
He could stomp his feet and the whole of Shanghai would tremble.
Some newly formed gangs are simply formed by a few hot-headed young men on a whim.
Their sphere of influence was limited to controlling only one alley, and due to daily conflicts with other gangs over territory, they were eventually swallowed up and expelled by larger gangs.
In this chaotic concession, gangs rise and fall every day.
The Great Lakes Gang was one of the top ten most powerful gangs in Shanghai.
Bai Changrong is the head of the Loyalty Hall of the Dahu Gang, holding the fifth position in the gang.
He had many disciples and followers, and even the chief inspector had to address him respectfully as Fifth Master.
Such a person and a lowly police officer should have no connection.
Shen Lang frowned, quickly searching his memory for relevant information.
But even after racking my brains, I couldn't find any related memories or any contact with them.
Even his father and grandfather had no connection with the Dahu Gang.
The original owner did know of this person in his memories, but the other party didn't even know who he was.
If I had to pinpoint any connection, it would be that I once saw Bai Changrong emerge from a private room upstairs while dining at a restaurant.
However, they left right after finishing their meal, without even glancing at him.
Who can know whom?
If there were any real connection, the original owner would have been eager to establish a relationship and seek favors long ago.
With such a powerful figure protecting them, the police station wouldn't need to be dismissed.
Yet this man, who held considerable influence both in the martial arts world and among officials in the foreign concessions, sent an invitation to such an unknown nobody.
Shen Lang looked at the vigorous and powerful strokes on the invitation and quickly weighed the pros and cons in his mind.
"I just treated my colleagues to dinner yesterday, they shouldn't be making jokes like that."
"Moreover, given Master Bai's prestige in the martial arts world, no one would dare to joke around using his name."
"Instead of hiding and being looked down upon, I might as well go to the appointment and see what's going on."
"If this invitation is real, I'll be contacted again even if I don't show up."
"What is meant to be will be, and what is meant to be will be."
"I'd like to see what they're up to!"
After a moment's thought, I made up my mind.
Instead of blindly guessing, it's better to go to the appointment and see what's really going on.
If the invitation is fake, at most it will just be a joke among colleagues, which can also bring them closer together.
If the invitation is genuine, with Master Bai's influence, he might escape it one day, but he won't be able to hide it the next.
Instead of shrinking back in fear, face it head-on!
Snapped!
Shen Lang slammed the invitation on the table, no longer dwelling on the reasons behind it.
He opened the drawer, took out paper and pen, and sat up straight to begin writing his report.
Yesterday, a fraud case with extremely serious consequences was cracked. The matchmaker's accomplice even risked his life to help him boost his sales performance, and incidentally committed a murder.
Such a great achievement was reported by major newspapers and became today's front-page headline.
Even the Public Works Bureau and the Inspector General know about this and may intervene at any time.
So he must write a report as soon as possible so that the chief inspector can have a reasonable basis when questioned, right?
Although Zhang Defa ultimately benefited greatly from this great achievement, he also gained considerable advantages by returning the favor.
They turned an empty title into real benefits.
Shen Lang held the pen and wrote quickly and skillfully.
The handwriting is neat and clean, giving people a refreshing feeling.
He had only written one line when the pen stopped.
With a furrowed brow, he tore off the paper he had written on, placed it in the ashtray, and burned it to ashes with a match.
He couldn't help but shake his head and complain, "My predecessor was ignorant and incompetent; he could barely read, but he couldn't write such neat characters."
During the Republic of China era, not everyone could read and write.
According to surveys, the literacy rate is only 18.2% based on reading and writing standards.
This is based on statistics from large cities; in rural areas, the literacy rate is less than 10%.
The Shen family has been police officers for three generations, so they were naturally educated.
However, by the time it came to Shen Lang's generation, they were obsessed with cockfighting, dog walking, and causing trouble, and had no interest in reading whatsoever.
He was only able to barely read and recognize characters thanks to the old man chasing after him with a stick and hitting him.
Even so, his handwriting was like a dog's scribbles, and full of typos.
If I were to submit the neatly written report, it would probably attract attention again.
Shen Lang thought for a moment, then switched to writing with his left hand, and deliberately added a few typos to each sentence to show that he was not well-educated.
There's even less emphasis on the content of the report.
They might even deliberately confuse the logic, as long as the events are explained clearly.
Normally, with his skill level, he could finish writing a report in no more than an hour.
However, the addition of half-true, half-false fabricated stories makes it quite mind-bending.
I smoked half a pack of cigarettes and spent three hours writing the report, which was full of stories.
After Zhang Defa reads it, he will rewrite it and then report it to his superiors to claim credit.
"Ah~!"
Click click click~!
Shen Lang stood up and stretched, his bones cracking like popping beans.
It wasn't easy to finish writing this half-true, half-false story.
After resting for a while, I went upstairs and handed the report to Zhang Defa.
Then I went back to clean, and before I knew it, it was 5:30, which was about time to leave work.
He locked the drawer, swayed as he walked out of the police station, and got into a rickshaw waiting for passengers by the roadside.
More than ten minutes later, the rickshaw stopped outside a luxuriously decorated restaurant.
Shen Lang got out of the car and paid the fare; this time he didn't try to renege on his debt and actually paid.
While it's necessary to maintain the image of a shameless villain, it's fine to do it occasionally. There's no need to refuse payment every time, as this will only accumulate a lot of hatred over time.
Even a few days ago, he was cornered in an alley, had a sack put over his head, and got a beating because he had offended too many people.
It's reasonable that they would tone down their behavior after being targeted by the authorities.
Shen Lang held the invitation in his hand and looked up at the hanging plaque—Zui Xian Lou (Drunken Sage Pavilion).
Judging from the luxurious decor of the storefront, you can tell that the prices won't be low.
The top ten restaurants in the French Concession were the first choice for celebrities and gentlemen to entertain their guests.
This is not something that poor, low-level police officers can afford.
As soon as he stepped through the gate, the shopkeeper greeted him warmly, "May I ask, sir, are you Shen Lang?"
This isn't within the jurisdiction of the Mailan Police Station, so the shopkeeper doesn't recognize him.
Moreover, those who can open such large restaurants all have powerful backers, so the police don't dare to come and take advantage of them.
Shen Lang nodded and handed over the invitation.
After seeing the invitation, the shopkeeper became even more enthusiastic and respectfully led the way to a private room on the third floor.
The moment he pushed open the door, he was taken aback: "It's you?"
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
P.S.: The trial run is over. It seems the data allowance during the initial reading period wasn't good enough, so please, everyone, don't let the book sit unread; give the author a chance to read it!