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Wang Xuesen's gaze fell on the boxes of medicine on Yang Hongchang's desk, and he pointed to them.
"Old Yang, do you know how much these sulfonamide antibiotics are being sold on the black market right now, like fentanyl, aspirin, and especially the newly released fentanyl?"
Yang Hongchang raised his eyebrows but didn't reply.
Wang Xuesen flicked his cigarette ash and said casually.
"These things are now priced in US dollars and gold."
"Is it a big deal for you to just let a little bit slip out of your hand?"
"That's just a matter of filling in a number."
Yang Hongchang's expression changed abruptly, and he lowered his voice: "Brother, you can't say things like that carelessly."
He got up, opened the door, and glanced outside to make sure no one was eavesdropping before locking the door and returning: "Drugs are strictly controlled now; the Public Works Department comes to check every few days."
"We just conducted a round of investigations last month, and it threw the entire French Concession pharmacy and hospital into chaos."
"To even consider this is tantamount to playing with one's life."
Wang Xuesen smiled.
"Brother, you're just too honest."
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