"That powerful?"
Hearing Wang Xu's words, Yu Zecheng's heart was stirred.
Now, his main task was to provide supplies for the Central Hebei Base Area and cover for comrades of the Underground Party.
Some time ago, the comrades in the White Yang Lake area had several clashes with the enemy, resulting in heavy casualties for the team.
The Guerrillas lacked ammunition, weapons, and supplies, but their most urgent need right now was medicine.
This batch of Anti-inflammatory drugs would be merchandise in Tianjin, but in the base area, it meant lives.
At the thought of non-combat casualties, Yu Zecheng felt a sharp pain in his heart; this kind of grief was something modern people could neither experience nor relate to.
At the very least, what Wang Xu was thinking about now was how much money he could make, rather than devoting himself to the great revolution.
Modern people talk about patriotism more than anyone else.
When it comes to action, they're off traveling to Japan and buying Japanese cars; most are just keyboard warriors.
Wang Xu felt that as long as he earned a bit less, his conscience would be clear.
As for giving it away for free, that was impossible; in "family, country, world," family comes first, then the country.
"It's powerful, but this kind of medicine isn't cheap." Wang Xu spoke as a businessman; before traveling through time, he had considered dealing in medicine.
A box of penicillin, containing twenty vials, would cost about two hundred yuan.
However, selling medicine in Japanese-occupied areas was not a good business; you'd lose your head if caught, so Wang Xu had given up on the idea.
Since Yu Zecheng wanted it, he thought for a moment and said, "My medicine is for injection, sold by the vial. One hundred vials for one gold bar."
One hundred vials of penicillin, which is five boxes, was worth one thousand RMB.
One Small Gold Bar weighs about 50 grams; if sold, it would be worth around 10,000, which seemed like a huge profit.
But the math couldn't be done that way.
Was this price expensive? In this era, it was absolutely not.
When penicillin first arrived in China, a box of ten vials could sell for half a gold bar; one hundred vials would be fifty bars.
Wang Xu believed this was definitely a fair price, and the penicillin brought from modern times would be better than foreign goods.
"One hundred vials for one gold bar? Isn't that too expensive?" Hearing this price, Yu Zecheng frowned slightly.
Wang Xu didn't mind and countered, "Is that expensive? Currently, a bottle of Baibao Dan on the market sells for ten Silver Dollars, which is almost half a gold bar. Old Yu, revolution isn't a dinner party; when it's time to act, you have to be a bit ruthless!"
Despite those words, Yu Zecheng was still a bit hesitant.
The base area wasn't wealthy; if they spent one gold bar, the soldiers would have to tighten their belts and save from elsewhere.
As everyone knew, economic construction had always been a weakness within the Party during this period.
The Japanese conducted Mopping-up operations, the National Army carried out Encirclements, and every few days, Traitors would come to cause trouble.
If they had to pay, they could manage it by gritting their teeth; what Yu Zecheng worried about was that Wang Xu's medicine might not be as good as he claimed, and they would be wasting money.
"What, don't trust me?" Sensing Yu Zecheng's attitude, Wang Xu understood somewhat.
Within his power, he didn't mind lending Our Party a helping hand.
After thinking for a moment, Wang Xu said, "I'll deliver the goods first and take the money later. You can see the effects for yourselves first. How about that?"
"Really?" Yu Zecheng asked back.
Wang Xu waved his hand and said, "No need to lie to you. I'll bring a hundred vials first. No need to prepare a deposit either; just get some antiques ready for me."
"Alright, it's a deal." Hearing that he didn't want gold but only antiques, Yu Zecheng's smile deepened.
Wang Xu didn't realize it at first, but after Yu Zecheng left, he belatedly remembered that Our Party had the habit of Fighting the landlords during this period.
Gold went without saying; it was a hard currency that could be used like Silver Dollars.
Antiques, on the other hand, were inconvenient to sell and their prices fluctuated wildly; he estimated a truckload could be brought from the base area.
"Haha, it's a win-win!" Wang Xu smiled; this was already a huge profit for him, but compared to his family, it was still a business with overhead.
His family members were even shrewder than him, their abacuses clicking away; in the end, it was still a business with no overhead.
No, harmony, stay harmonious; this matter couldn't be publicized, a secret chuckle would do.
After seeing Yu Zecheng off, Wang Xu was overjoyed, stroking the incense burner and the scroll as if he couldn't bear to let go.
He couldn't rush; it was afternoon now, with many eyes around, and the shuttle gate was on the street, so it was hard to guarantee he wouldn't be discovered when traveling.
This was Wang Xu's treasure trove; he wasn't doing a one-time deal, so it wouldn't do to be discovered.
After all, others couldn't see the shuttle gate, but they could see him.
In broad daylight, if a living person walked through a wall and was seen, it would scare them half to death.
Wang Xu stayed in the hotel, patiently lurking, until the middle of the night.
Tianjin in 1940 could not be compared to later generations; because of the Japanese, people rarely went out at night.
In the dead of night, Wang Xu took the incense burner and scroll in a bag and quietly left alone.
Along the way, there were few pedestrians; occasionally, Japanese patrol teams passed by, but Wang Xu avoided them in advance.
Half an hour later, he reached Qingyu Street, where the shuttle gate was located; the gate he had arrived through was still embedded in the wall.
Wang Xu didn't dare be careless; he pretended to squat down to wipe his shoes while observing the situation on the street.
There were no pedestrians on the street, and the shops and houses on both sides were closed; it looked peaceful.
He looked at the intersections ahead and behind; no one was there either, everything was quite calm.
"Goodbye, 1940!" Wang Xu walked along the corner of the wall, and when he reached the front of the shuttle gate, he darted inside.
"Eh?" Just as Wang Xu's figure disappeared, a sneaky head peeked out from around the corner.
If Wang Xu were still there, he would definitely recognize the person following him as Xie Ruolin.
Ever since being rejected by Wang Xu, Xie Ruolin had been trying every possible way to figure out what business Wang Xu and Yu Zecheng were involved in.
Yu Zecheng was an ace agent, so following him was unrealistic; therefore, Xie Ruolin's main target was always Wang Xu.
Tonight, Wang Xu's suspicious departure had already caught Xie Ruolin's attention.
For an agent from the Central Statistics Bureau capable of going toe-to-toe with Yu Zecheng, following a rookie like Wang Xu was beyond simple.
Sure enough, after following him all the way, Wang Xu had looked back several times without discovering him, which made Xie Ruolin very proud.
Who was he? An intelligence officer for the Central Statistics Bureau; let alone an ordinary person, even a slightly inferior agent wouldn't hope to discover him in advance.
But soon, Xie Ruolin could no longer smile, because Wang Xu had disappeared—disappeared in the blink of an eye.
"Is this a joke? How could a person just disappear? Could it be that his real identity is an actor, and he came out late at night to perform a disappearing act?" Xie Ruolin was stunned and hurriedly walked up, searching the surrounding walls.
Unfortunately, Wang Xu could use the shuttle gate because he and the gate had been struck by lightning together, making them one.
Xie Ruolin had no such opportunity; he searched back and forth for a long time, and besides becoming more certain that Wang Xu could perform magic, he found no clues at all.