SFS Chapter 337 Industry Credit Protection Private Banquet
Chapter 337 Industry Credit Protection Private Banquet
(Thanks to "崇宫竹道" for the gift king! Thank you for your support! Thanks to "观察者泡泡" for the master certification! Two updates today, more than 10,000 words~)
October 26, 1990. Friday.
Four o'clock in the afternoon.
In the Japanese-style room of the main residence of Saionji Temple, Shuichi knelt before the table, with five reply slips for the invitations spread out in front of him.
Each document was written with a brush by the recipient's secretary, using respectful language and refined wording.
"Respectfully replying, awaiting your arrival"—this style of writing was rarely seen in the business world during the late Showa era. Only among truly established families and powerful clans did this old-fashioned tradition still exist on paper.
Shuichi's fingertip paused briefly on the fourth receipt.
Sumitomo Light Metal Industries. The president didn't come; he sent the managing director instead.
He arranged the five reply slips according to seating order, then looked up at Satsuki, who was sitting at the low table to the side.
Satsuki was holding the Wedgwood cup, her gaze fixed on the seating chart on the table.
Today she was wearing a navy blue kimono, her hair loosely tied up, looking like a young lady helping her father with household chores.
"The president of Sumitomo Light Metals didn't come; he only sent the managing director," Shuichi said.
"As expected." Satsuki put down her teacup. "Light Metals is the smallest of the companies that are directors of the White Water Association. The president himself coming here is tantamount to publicly taking sides."
"Sending an executive officer is both polite and leaves room for retreat."
"How should the seating arrangement be?"
"The executive director can sit at the end of the table. Let him see and hear. He'll naturally relay to the president tonight's events verbatim when he gets back."
Xiu nodded and placed the fourth receipt at the bottom.
He reviewed the list again.
Sumitomo Metal, Sumitomo Chemical, Sumitomo Electric Industries, Sumitomo Light Metals.
Four manufacturing companies. Four representatives from different backgrounds.
"Satsuki".
"Um?"
Shuichi withdrew his hand from the receipt and placed it on his knee.
"You're not showing up tonight...?"
"He won't show up."
Why?
Satsuki tilted her head slightly.
The late autumn sunlight filtered through the shoji paper and shone on her profile.
"Father, the average age of the presidents of the Sumitomo Group is sixty-two."
"Would they be willing to open up to a seventeen-year-old girl?"
Shuichi was silent for two seconds.
"And—" Satsuki placed the teacup back on the saucer, the bottom of the cup making a very soft clinking sound. "Tonight's theme is 'credit protection.' Credit is something that relies on seniority, connections, and respectability."
She looked at Shuichi.
"Father has all three of these."
Xiu Yi lowered his eyes. His fingers tightened slightly on his knee, then relaxed.
"...There's only one thing." His voice lowered slightly. "The Sumitomo family are old acquaintances; Yoshio's father and your grandfather helped each other after the war."
"I don't want people to think that Saionji is taking advantage of the situation."
Satsuki did not answer immediately.
The sound of a gardener pruning pine branches came from the courtyard—the shears snipped crisply, followed by the soft rustling of twigs falling to the ground.
"So only Father is suitable to speak tonight."
She stood up and left the seating chart on the table.
"I'll go check on the preparations in the kitchen."
……
6:45 PM.
The ryotei (traditional Japanese restaurant) annex in the main residence.
This Japanese-style room is rarely used on ordinary days.
The room had six tiers of floor space, rosewood bedposts, and a white plum blossom painting by Maruyama Okō hanging in the alcove—an old item purchased by my great-grandfather from a nobleman in Kyoto. It was painted on silk with colors, and the ink on the signature had faded to a pale brown. (Note: "Painted on silk with colors" refers to applying colors to silk fabric; it is not a misspelling.)
Shuichi stood in front of the alcove and straightened his cuffs.
He's wearing a kimono tonight.
The dark gray fabric is plain, with a very faint Saionji family crest embroidered on the silk haori—a three-line pattern that can only be discerned upon close inspection, so subtle that it almost blends into the fabric.
This was his own judgment.
A suit signifies "negotiation." A kimono signifies "catching up."
With just one word difference, the degree of relaxation in the other person's shoulders when they sit down is completely different.
Old Fujita stood at the corner of the corridor and bowed slightly to him.
"Master, Sumitomo Metal's car has arrived at the gate."
Shuichi took a deep breath.
"please."
Next up is his home turf.
……
At 6:55, all four guests had arrived.
Koichi Uchida, president of Sumitomo Metal, is 64 years old.
His gray hair was neatly combed, his back was slightly hunched, and he took his time taking off his shoes as he entered, his left knee seemingly not in good condition. But his eyes were clear—the first thing he did after sitting down was to scan the room's furnishings, pausing for two seconds on the painting of white plum blossoms by Yuanshan Yingju.
Yukimasa Murata, acting president and executive director of Sumitomo Chemical, is 58 years old.
He was the youngest of the four and the only one who came in a suit.
As she entered, her gaze lingered briefly on Shuichi's kimono before she quickly adjusted her posture, straightening her back even more.
Heiji Kawaguchi, Managing Director of Sumitomo Electric Industries, is 61 years old.
He was not tall, and his fingers were short and thick. There was a layer of calluses on the first joint of his left middle and ring fingers—a mark that only people who had worked in factories in their early years would have.
When he entered, he only said "Excuse me" in a low voice, but every word was clear.
Tatsuya Hashimoto, the managing director of Sumitomo Light Metals, is 55 years old. He was the last to arrive.
His seat was placed in the lower seat closest to the sliding door by the host family—which perfectly reflects the relatively marginal status of light metals in the Sumitomo group.
When Fujita led him to the cushion, he muttered "Excuse me" under his breath. After sitting down, he put most of his weight on his knees, his posture tense, as if he were ready to get up and leave at any moment if the atmosphere became awkward.
The food will be served starting at seven o'clock.
The appetizers are persimmon white and え (persimmon mixed with tofu paste).
The vessel is a small Shino ware bowl, with a warm, lustrous glaze, and the food inside is clean and bright in color. (Shino ware: a traditional type of pottery originating in the Mino region (present-day Gifu Prefecture) during the Azuchi-Momoyama period (late 16th century) in Japan.)
Next comes Mukozuke—seasonal yellowtail sashimi. (Mukozuke: one of the core main dishes in traditional kaiseki cuisine)
Slice it thinly and place it on a bowl of ice; the surface has a very faint sheen.
The sake is chilled. It's a Dassai 2/3 oz. (Dassai is an internationally renowned sake brand produced by Asahi Shuzo in Yamaguchi Prefecture, Japan. The 2/3 oz is its top-of-the-line flagship sake.)
Shuichi personally poured the first cup for each guest.
The conversation started with alcohol.
"This Dassai is a limited edition from last year by Asahi Shuzo in Yamaguchi Prefecture." Shuichi gently placed the sake bottle back on the table. "Their master sake brewer retired the year before last, and the new master brewer's style is lighter, with aromas of pear and white peach."
Uchida picked up the glass and smelled it. "It's definitely lighter. I've had their '3/9' cut before, and I remember it being thicker." (3/9' cut: ...That's complicated. Just know that the process is 'expensive'. You can look it up if you're interested.)
"Times are changing," Xiu Yi said with a smile, his tone casual.
The conversation shifted from wine to the seasons, and from the seasons to the recent sudden drop in temperature. Then, quite naturally—
"It's probably going to be cold this winter," Shuichi said.
Uchida put down his chopsticks.
He glanced at Xiu Yi.
"Are you talking about the weather?"
Shuichi did not avoid that gaze.
He finished the cold wine in his glass and put it down.
"President Uchida, how have your company's overseas raw material procurements gone this year?"
The air in the Japanese-style room seemed to freeze for a moment.
Murata's chopsticks froze in mid-air. Kawaguchi lowered his head, looking at the liquid in his glass. Hashimoto pressed his back against the shoji door behind him.
Uchida remained silent for three seconds.
"...To be honest, Mr. Saionji," he said in a low voice, "last month, our supplier in Hamburg sent a letter raising our letter of credit confirmation rate by 0.3 percentage points."
"What's the reason?"
"No reason was given. It only stated 'in view of the recent credit rating adjustment of your affiliated financial institution'."
Xiu Yi nodded slightly. He didn't press for details about which "affiliated financial institution" it was—everyone present knew the answer.
Murata spoke at this moment. His voice was a bit more urgent than Uchida's.
"Mr. Saionji, the situation at Sumitomo Chemical is more serious."
He put down his chopsticks and rested his fingers on his knees.
"Our monthly imports of ethylene and benzene are close to 80,000 tons, all settled in US dollars."
Last week, Citibank notified our finance department that the standby letter of credit limit was "temporarily frozen for review".
The words "frozen review" echoed briefly in the quiet Japanese-style room.
Shuichi did not respond immediately.
He poured Murata another glass of wine.
The movement was very slow, and the wine flowed slowly from the spout into the glass, making almost no sound.
Kawaguchi then looked up.
"Mr. Saionji, Sumitomo Electric Industries has three signed overseas engineering contracts totaling 7.2 billion yen. The delivery date is next March."
"If our credit situation with the banks continues to deteriorate, we won't even be able to issue a performance guarantee."
"If a guarantee cannot be issued, a penalty will be imposed. The penalty is 10% of the contract amount."
720 million yen.
No one speaks.
Shuichi placed the sake bottle back on the table.
He looked around at the four people present.
Veteran Uchida's expression was calm, but the vertical lines between his brows were deeper than when he entered.
Murata's fingers pressed lightly and alternately on his knee, as if there were words stuck in his throat.
Kawaguchi was quiet, seemingly very interested in the utensils on the table, staring at them without moving.
Hashimoto—Hashimoto Zaiki. His gaze kept sweeping over the expressions of the other three.
Shuichi took a deep breath.
Then he spoke.
"Ladies and gentlemen, banks will have their share of storms."
"But the fire of manufacturing cannot be extinguished because of the mud and water in the ledgers."
The Japanese-style room was silent for a full five seconds.
Uchida's breathing became slightly heavier.
Murata stopped.
Kawaguchi raised his head and looked directly at Shuichi.
Shuichi continued—
"The Saionji family upgraded Saionji Trading Company last month to specialize in handling cross-border trade settlements and foreign trade channels."
"Commercial entities can now independently issue letters of credit."
"The dollar channel is open."
He paused for a moment.
"If in the future—and I'm just saying if—you encounter any temporary difficulties in your overseas financing channels."
"Saionji Corporation can provide assistance with opening letters of credit, forwarding export guarantees, and accounts receivable factoring."
Shuichi didn't use the word "cooperation." He used the word "assistance."
Everyone present understood this point of view.
"Of course." Xiu Yi smiled slightly. "This is just in case; hopefully, we won't need to use it."
He poured wine for everyone again.
"Come on, it's a rare treat tonight. Let's eat the fish first."
Shuichi gently steered the conversation back to everyday life.
We chatted for a while about the climate in Kansai, then a bit about golf, and then about Sumitomo Metal's newly built alloy steel research institute.
But everyone was still processing what those words had just been said.
The Saionji family has US dollars.
Saionji Commercial Firm can issue letters of credit.
They are willing to "help".
These three messages are like three seeds that have already fallen into the soil.
……
8:45.
The banquet was drawing to a close.
The dessert was chestnut yokan (sweet bean jelly) served with sencha (steamed tea).
As Kawaguchi put down his teacup, he suddenly asked a question.
"Mr. Saionji".
Xiu looked at him.
"If Sumitomo Bank's letter of credit limit is reduced by overseas banks—" he phrased very cautiously, "Could Saionji Trading Co., Ltd. issue a standby letter of credit on my behalf?"
This is the first question tonight that directly addresses the operational level.
Uchida's chopsticks stopped in his hand. Murata turned his head slightly. Hashimoto's back moved away from the shoji door.
Shuichi placed the teacup back on the table.
He did not answer immediately.
two seconds.
Then he bowed slightly.
"Specific matters will be confirmed by the practical personnel of both parties."
"But the Saionji family is willing to do its part for Japanese industrial credit."
Kawaguchi looked at him.
Those calloused hands, with their short, thick fingers, clenched their fists slightly on their knees.
Thank you.
……
9:15.
The guests took their leave one after another.
Shuichi saw each person to the door in the entryway and personally held an umbrella for the elderly Uchida—although the rain had stopped, the puddles on the floor tiles still reflected the light from the porch.
One by one, the car lights came on, and the car drove off the stone road and disappeared into the night.
Shuichi stood under the porch, watching the last taillight disappear around the corner.
Footsteps sounded behind me.
Old Fujita.
"Master of the house."
"Um."
"The young lady is waiting in the study."
Xiu Yi relaxed his slightly hunched shoulders and let out a long breath.
The white moisture dissipated in the night breeze at the end of October, disappearing without a trace in the blink of an eye.
"understood."
……
study.
Satsuki sat behind the table; the black tea in front of her had already been replaced once.
She looked up when Xiu Yi pushed the door open and came in.
"Thank you for your hard work, Father."
"It's alright." Shuichi sat down opposite her and took the hot towel Fujita handed him to wipe his hands. "Much easier than the progress meeting in Odaiba."
Satsuki smiled.
"How is the situation?"
Shuichi placed the hot towel on the plate.
"Sumitomo Metal's Uchida was the most cautious. He didn't say anything throughout, but he shook my hand separately when he left. His hand was stronger than when he came in."
"Murata from Sumitomo Chemicals is the most anxious. He's probably already on the phone in his car."
"Kawaguchi from Sumitomo Electric Industries—" Shuichi paused. "He asked directly about opening letters of credit on behalf of others."
Satsuki's fingertips paused briefly on the rim of the cup.
"Did Kawaguchi ask that?"
"Yes, I asked in person."
Satsuki lowered her eyes.
Heiji Kawaguchi. Managing Director, Sumitomo Electric Industries. 61 years old.
People who raise specific business issues in this kind of setting either don't understand the rules or are so anxious that they don't care about the rules anymore.
Given Kawaguchi's qualifications, it's highly likely he's the latter.
"What about that Sumitomo Light Metal guy?"
He didn't say a word the whole time, but his eyes were constantly looking at other people.
Satsuki nodded.
Shuichi remained silent for a few seconds.
He looked at the tea on the table—deep red, like a small amber plate under the light.
"Satsuki".
"Um?"
"Tonight... I don't think they distrust the Saionji family." Shuichi's voice was very soft. "They're afraid."
"What are you afraid of?"
"I'm afraid of being caught in the middle." Shuichi tapped his fingers lightly on the table. "The people from the White Water Association are still sitting in their positions at the bank. No matter how anxious the presidents are, they don't dare to openly bypass them."
"That's why they need a decent way out," Satsuki said.
Shuichi looked at her.
"Tonight's banquet—it's that step."
Satsuki picked up her black tea and took a sip.
Her expression was calm, but Shuichi noticed a very faint curve at the corner of her mouth.
At that moment, Fujita walked silently from the other end of the corridor.
He stopped at the door of the study and bowed slightly.
"Young Miss".
"What is it?"
"The secretary accompanying Murata, the managing director of Sumitomo Chemicals, found the doorman alone before leaving."
Fujita handed a business card to Satsuki. On the back of the card, written in pencil, was a line of text—
"Please provide the contact information for the person in charge of the Settlement Department of Saionji Trading Company."
Satsuki looked at the line of pencil writing.
The handwriting is somewhat messy. The person who wrote it probably did so hastily in the few seconds before the car door closed, while they were in the car.
She put the business card back on the table.
Outside the window, the stone lanterns in the courtyard were wet with the evening dew, their surfaces gleaming with a dull luster.
The maple leaves are a bit redder than last week—the top few have turned completely deep vermilion, as if they're about to burst into flames on the branches.
"The first ticket has arrived."
Satsuki said.
Shuichi looked at his daughter's profile.
The light fell on her forehead and eyebrows, on her seventeen-year-old face, and her eyes reflected the dark red of the tea.
He wanted to say something more, but in the end he just stood up.
"I'm going to rest."
"Yes. Goodnight, Father."
"Before midnight—"
"understood."
Xiuyi walked out of the study. His footsteps faded away on the wooden floor of the corridor, until a soft creak of a sliding door came from the end of the corridor.
Satsuki sat alone behind her desk.
She picked up the business card, flipped it over, and looked at the pencil writing again.
Then she opened the Sumitomo Group related cash flow chart on the table and placed the business card on the box for "Sumitomo Chemical".
Red pen.
She circled "Sumitomo Chemicals".
Then close the report and put the pen cap back on.
The chirping of insects outside was almost inaudible.
In Tokyo at the end of October, the crickets are almost done singing their season's songs.