When Wang He Di leaves the small village he grew up in, to find work in the streets of glamourous and dangerous Shanghai, the first thing that catches his eye is the beautiful Shen Yue, a young woman also trying to make her fortunes in the "Paris of...
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The shrill bell of the telephone piercing the atmosphere, the persistent clacking of the typewriters and the gentlemen's heels tapping on the wooden floors, make up the eclectic soundscape of the office afternoon. The heat baked day is going slowly, sucking what little energy is left in He Di's body, but he knows he cannot afford to relax. He is always on high alert at work because of the bully in charge. But He Di is determined... determined not to make any mistakes, determined not to give Smith an excuse to disparage him, and determined to keep his great work ethic intact. After ten minutes of reading the same line over and over again, there is a knock on the door.
"Come in." Says He Di.
Cheung Wei, Smith's assistant, or more like indentured servant depending on the lens viewed from, walks into the room looking down trodden.
"Wang He Di, Mr Smith is requesting an audience with you." He says listlessly.
He Di sighs heavily, feeling thoroughly put off at this new development. He was hoping to escape an encounter with Smith today, having made it to "3 p.m." without seeing him. Cheung Wei doesn't even wait for a response, moving onto whatever he has been tasked with next. He Di gets up from his desk and takes a deep breath... he may as well get this over and done with.
He makes his way up the stairs to where Smith's office is situated, and waits to be let in by his secretary. After ten minutes of sitting He Di finally enters the room and finds Smith standing and looking out the window with a glass of scotch in his hand.
"Mr Smith, you wanted to see me?"
"Ah yes, Wang He Di." Drawls Smith in a condescending voice. "Sit down, sit down, and let's get straight to it shall we?"
Smith goes to his chair and He Di does as he is told, sitting down stiffly, his whole body on guard for the inevitable attack.
"Where to begin, where to begin?" Continues Smith, swirling the dark amber liquid around his glass. "I was at lunch at the Britain Club today, and you will never guess who I ran into?"
He Di says nothing waiting for Smith to carry on.
"Well go on... guess?" Urges Smith.
"You are right sir, I will never guess." He Di replies plainly.
Smith roars with laughter and says,
"And I here I thought you were an expert in English. Oh alright I will spill, bloody hell you are no fun at all are you Wang? Anyway my good friend Gordon Watson, the Native Commissioner, was having lunch with Lord Arundel Bromley of the South East Ceylon Tea Company, so naturally I joined them for a bit of grub."
He Di freezes when he hears the tea company name. Smith continues.
"You are probably wondering why they were having lunch together, after all Bromley is a lord and Watson is merely a civil servant with no great family name to back him, but nonetheless a good one. However I digress, you see whenever a Chinese wants to join one of our companies, old Watson is the man who does the background checks on you lot, to make sure that the criminal elements do not infiltrate our hallowed halls. Bromley is very hands on when it comes to every aspect of his businesses, that is why he is number one and we are number two in the world of tea. Any of this ringing a bell?"
