Chapter 3.
Salt Ikura.
This was now its own territory.
It used to house expensive mortgaged items, usually large, and mortgages were much higher than pawn shop valuations.
Other warehouses were said to hold tons of supplies, everything, that now couldn’t be shipped.
The bank earns a high interest rate, it’s not like they’re trying to figure out what you have.
Normally these things are worth a lot of money, even some are orphaned, once the war comes, these things can be of little use.
For example, this set of Ming dynasty huanghuali furniture, put into the later generations worth more than hundreds of millions of dollars, and now it is so randomly placed in the warehouse to eat dust.
They are too heavy and bulky, simply can not be transported, dismantled, if you can not install, is the same as destroyed, are the treasures of the Chinese nation left behind.
To say a word should not say, if these things fall into the hands of the Japanese, may still be able to save, if to some ungrateful children and grandchildren, really may be discarded as if it were worn out, and even chopped up as firewood to burn.
And this pair of blue and white porcelain vase, Qing official kiln, styling objects that is exquisite, which should be placed in the living room of a big official.
This pair of mortgages to the bank, at least can loan out five thousand French dollars.
If it breaks, it’s worthless.
If we can’t ship it, we’re too short on time. If we can ship it, why would we leave it here?
It’s all good stuff!
Cheng Mo unlimited emotion, if this can be transported away how good, are God damned brats! They should all go to hell.
A warehouse within a large empty space to, Cheng Mo looked at it, simply move home here, anyway, that valuable Huanghuali bed they have never slept in it!
Think and do, anyway, their own things are not much, with just got the side three wheel once pulled over.
Where to stay staff will get a compensation, not much, only fifty dollars, almost two months of his current salary.
In this way, he now has a total of six hundred dollars, but in such a place as Shanghai, this amount of money, really not enough to spend.
The good thing was that there was no need to spend money on a place to live.
After the meeting of the remaining staff, the executives and middle managers of the four banks left one after another, and those who stayed behind basically did not have much work to do. Cheng Mo basically stayed in the Salt Warehouse for the day, tidied up the inside a bit, and made preparations for the next encampment.
He also recovered and fused some of his memories, which was what allowed him to understand and familiarize himself with what kind of person he was.
Memory fusion was simple, but the fit of thinking personality would take some time, fortunately, he had time now.
Digging deeper into his memories, this Cheng Mo was left behind, it really wasn’t entirely because he was being counted on, he had a reason, a reason that he couldn’t even say to his sister Cheng Hua.
Because he has to wait for someone, and he doesn’t know when this person will come.
He also does not know how long he can live, anyway, since he stayed, then as a witness to history, if he can personally kill a few Japanese devils, then it is not in vain to come to this world for a time.
At night, taking advantage of the darkness to go back, Cheng Mo packed his own belongings, riding Norton side tricycle back to the four rows of warehouses without any attachment.
The motorcycle went through the gate and drove directly into the Salt Warehouse.
Now the four rows of warehouses, nothing else, rice, noodles, oil, food, drink that is a lot, open a box of canned goods, and the old Shanghai salt water.
A breath of spin down, or the flavor of the old stuff is good to drink.
The last four lines to stay although there are many people, but now the four lines of the warehouse almost can not see a ghost shadow, and even wild cats can not see one.
This night, in addition to loneliness, or loneliness.
Loneliness is the greatest enemy of mankind.
Light a cigarette, Cheng Mo sat in front of the cluttered desk, Suzhou River on the other side of the river is brightly lit, singing and dancing, a song and dance, but here is silent as a mass grave, only sporadically can see a few houses through the little light.
To Zhabei power supply is Jiangwan Power Plant, that side has long been controlled by the Japanese, they can pull the switch at any time to limit the power.
But the four lines of the warehouse from the public lease across the road to pull the power lines over, so there is still electricity available.
Cheng Mo sat withered, staring at the table lamp, he came to this era has been a day, shock, uncertainty of the emotions have passed, the next in front of him is the biggest question, is where to go from here?
In the next period of time, he will not leave the four rows of warehouses, at least stay here than to go outside is much safer.
Even if he ended up withdrawing into the rented area, it would be a matter for later.
If he wanted to save his life, it was very simple, but he also figured out now that he didn’t want to be a spectator who didn’t do anything, then he would despise himself from the inside.
Thinking about all the tragedies in his mind that might be coming next made his mood quite irritable and difficult to calm down.
There was also what Cheng Mo himself was going to do, ai, this was all karma, one could not shake it off.
Came to the window, took a look at the blue sky, the lights on the other side of the river, lights and wine, from the outbreak of the war will be only four days, and the brutal outbreak of the four rows of the defense war in fact there are still more than two months, he still has time to adapt to this war.
Being in a warehouse, although the news was somewhat closed, he could still hear some of it, both on the radio and in the newspapers, and he messed around with an old radio, from which he heard that the Japanese marines had been constantly provoking for days, and had even stormed our positions in an attempt to shift the blame for firing the first shot to the national government.
Such restraint will eventually lose its patience as the Japanese continue to test the waters, and whoever fires the first shot will be the one to blame for starting the war, at least on the surface.
On the following day, shots were fired in the direction of the Bazhajiao Bridge.
The trigger for the Battle of Songhu had finally come.
There was news that the airport security team had killed seven or eight Japanese marines who had crossed the border to provoke a fight, and the Japanese were clamoring for the Chinese to hand over the murderers and at the same time withdraw the airport security team as well as dismantle the fortifications.
This was rejected outright by the Chinese.
The two sides were at once at loggerheads.
In the evening, a company of the 1st Security Regiment under the Beijing-Shanghai Police Command marched into Zhabei and took over the defense of the area.
Cheng Mo ate and lived in the Four Row Warehouse, which would soon be used as the operational headquarters for the Battle of Songhu, and there was no telling how long he would be able to stay there.
As expected, on the night of the 12th, as the main force of the National Army drove into Zhabei through the Songhu Railway in a steady stream, the Four Row Warehouse was requisitioned because of its superior location as well as its sturdy fortifications.
Cheng Mo was supposed to be cleared out and left, the others fled as soon as they saw the opportunity to leave, only he stayed, the reason being, he had nowhere to go and wanted to stay and fight with the Japanese together.
Cheng Mo’s identity is no problem, just arrived in Zhabei’s national army also need to familiar with the local environment of the people, the peak agreed.
He was going to be drafted into the army, but Cheng Mo politely declined; he wanted to stay in Shanghai, but did not want to join the army, at least not now.
He then became a supernumerary logistician.
Cheng Mo began to train with the regular army in Zhabei, hungrily absorbing their combat experience. He began to familiarize himself with the world, and became friends with the national army officers and soldiers.
After the heavy workload, as a pragmatic typist, Cheng Mo felt that something was missing if he didn’t write something every day.
No computer, no cell phone, only a fountain pen, is “he” in Japan to study when the purchase, “SSS” company production 2, iridium nib. (There really is this brand of fountain pen, made in Japan, refused to switch to the military industry in World War II and went bankrupt.)
It took him three months of hard work and thrift to buy it.
This pen has been with him for five years.
Some things are more meaningful to record, and can let future generations understand more clearly the history of the nation’s resistance to invasion.
Please collect!