Chapter 120: Speaking in Riddles

“Hmph.”

Seeing that Cheng Qianfan was busy talking only with He Xuelin and had paid no attention to him, Xiu Gongshen let out a cold snort.

“Wait here, I’ll cook the wontons for you.” He Xuelin said happily, glaring at her husband before hurrying off.

“Teacher.” Cheng Qianfan grinned and saluted Xiu Gongshen, placing the gift box on the tea table. “How could Qianfan forget you? This is fine tea I specially brought back for you from Hangzhou.”

“Oh? Tea from Weng Longsheng.” Xiu Gongshen looked at the tea tin, a smile appearing on his face. “This isn’t cheap.”

Weng Longsheng was Hangzhou’s foremost tea merchant. Founded in the seventh year of the Yongzheng reign of the Qing Dynasty, in 1729, its founder was Weng Yaoting, a native of Haining. The shop was originally established at Meidenggao Bridge in Hangzhou.

After the Taiping Rebellion, the Weng family relocated the shop to Qinghefang, then the city’s commercial district, to expand its business. They also built a five-storey Western-style building and decorated the entrance with a lion-ball emblem as a registered trademark. The establishment took on a completely new and impressive appearance, attracting customers with its reputation as a century-old shop selling genuine goods.

The Weng Longsheng tea house had endured through the years and become famous both in China and abroad.

Its Fuchun tea, specially supplied as ”Three Early Harvest Emerald Leaves”, was expertly roasted and renowned for its colour, aroma, and flavour.

Its top-grade Lion Peak Longjing tea had even won an award certificate at the Panama Exposition.

Xiu Gongshen was a tea enthusiast and naturally knew of this old and prestigious Hangzhou tea merchant.

“A senior officer surnamed Yu knew of your fondness for tea and therefore gifted this to you, asking me to bring it for Teacher’s enjoyment,” Cheng Qianfan said quietly.

These two tins of tea had indeed been given to him by Zhao Yansheng shortly before his departure.

According to Zhao Yansheng, Deputy Director Yu had entrusted him with bringing them back to Shanghai for an old friend whose name was extremely difficult to pronounce.

Yu Ping’an had not explicitly stated who the recipient was.

But Cheng Qianfan understood perfectly well.

Xiu Gongshen gave Cheng Qianfan a long look and said with a smile, “It seems your trip to Hangzhou has been quite fruitful.”

Seeing Cheng Qianfan about to speak, Xiu Gongshen waved his hand.

“No need to tell me about it. As long as I know you’re doing the right thing, I’m at ease.”

Cheng Qianfan had previously been puzzled.

Yu Ping’an’s gift of tea indicated that he knew Xiu Gongshen.

However, he had not explicitly instructed Cheng Qianfan on how to handle the matter.

As a result, Cheng Qianfan had spent considerable effort considering how to manage his relationship with Xiu Gongshen, and whether he should selectively disclose information about his trip to Hangzhou.

That was why he had merely mentioned that the tea was a gift from a senior officer surnamed Yu and had said nothing further.

Sure enough, Xiu Gongshen immediately understood whom Cheng Qianfan was referring to.

He then prevented Cheng Qianfan from saying anything more.

At that moment, Cheng Qianfan finally understood why Yu Ping’an had not explained the details explicitly, yet had not worried about how Cheng Qianfan would report the matter to Xiu Gongshen.

This box of tea was merely the medium.

Without a single written note or spoken message between them, Yu Ping’an and Xiu Gongshen had already completed their communication.

Yu Ping’an knew how Xiu Gongshen would respond.

And Xiu Gongshen had not disappointed Yu Ping’an.

Cheng Qianfan understood some things, but not others.

What he understood was that this incident confirmed that Xiu Gongshen belonged to the National Government camp, or at the very least had some form of tacit understanding with it, and was acquainted with Yu Ping’an.

It was even possible that Xiu Gongshen himself was a member of the Special Service Office.

Furthermore, through this attitude, Xiu Gongshen was telling Cheng Qianfan that they would continue to maintain their previous relationship as teacher and student, as well as the relationship between family friends and uncle-and-nephew, while pretending not to know each other’s true identities.

What he did not understand was the riddle communicated through those two tins of tea between Xiu Gongshen and Yu Ping’an.

The exact meaning of that silent exchange was likely known only to the two men themselves.

“Qianfan, come try the wontons your Teacher’s Wife made.” He Xuelin personally brought over a large bowl of freshly cooked wontons.

“It smells wonderful already.” Cheng Qianfan accepted the chopsticks and swallowed a wonton.

The heat made him bare his teeth and grimace, yet he still shouted, “Teacher’s Wife, where’s the vinegar? Bring me a dish of vinegar.”

“This child, be careful, it’s hot.”

“Aunt Wu, bring Qianfan a dish of vinegar.”

Xiu Gongshen and He Xuelin watched Cheng Qianfan’s inelegant manner of eating.

Their eyes were warm, and gentle smiles rested on their faces.

Fang Muheng was in a terrible mood.

He had never imagined that Zhu Yuan, whom he regarded as a patriotic anti-Japanese hero, generous in spirit and unyielding in character, would turn out to be a traitor who had defected to the Japanese.

The Communists appeared to be using the execution of the traitor Zhu Yuan to demonstrate both their determination to resist Japan and their resolve to eliminate traitors and collaborators.

For that reason, not only had they not concealed the matter, but although they had not actively publicised it on a large scale, they had essentially allowed news of it to spread freely among the public.

Several tabloid newspapers embellished the story and reported it extensively.

As a result, Fang Muheng quickly learned that Zhu Yuan was in fact a traitor and had already been executed by the Communists.

This left Fang Muheng, who had previously been shouting support for Zhu Yuan and praising him as a fine son of China, feeling deeply embarrassed.

Even his younger sister Tang Xiaoye mocked him, saying that if the Communists had not obtained intelligence from beyond the passes confirming Zhu Yuan’s treachery, then her brother would have ended up aiding the enemy and greatly helping the Japanese.

Though it was merely a young girl’s teasing remark, it made Fang Muheng feel even more stifled.

In the end, he simply went out to drink away his troubles.

This was a rather lavishly decorated tavern.

Fang Muheng downed an entire bottle of Jardine beer in one go.

The Jardine Brewery had been established in Shanghai by the British firm Jardine Matheson in the twenty-third year of the Republic, and in only three years Jardine beer had become the best-selling locally produced beer in Shanghai.

Already slightly drunk and irritated, Fang Muheng lit a cigarette.

After taking one puff, he seemed to forget about smoking altogether and simply sat there in a daze.

A burst of laughter and noisy conversation came from the small private room next door.

The two booths were the innermost private compartments in the tavern, offering excellent privacy, and happened to be adjacent to each other.

Although the voices next door were not particularly loud, Fang Muheng was sitting quietly by himself, sulking and lost in thought.

As a result, he could just barely make out what was being said.

He Guan clinked glasses with Liu Bo.

Excitement gleamed in both men’s eyes.

“That felt good.” He Guan was clearly quite drunk and no longer guarded his tongue. Raising a thumb toward Liu Bo, he said, “You were right. Only by getting rid of that Japanese bastard could we finally vent this anger. I feel better all over.”

As he spoke, He Guan opened another bottle of beer and filled Liu Bo’s glass.

“Brother Liu, many thanks. Only through the combined efforts of the two of us could this succeed.”

Liu Bo also appeared somewhat drunk.

One hand rested on He Guan’s shoulder while the other waved about.

“I only gathered information and lured that little Japanese over there. That Japanese fellow was simply too greedy for money and easy to trick. The one who really did the work was Young Master Guan.”

Since Jin Kemu had been promoted to Deputy Chief Inspector of the Central Police Station, He Guan’s life had become increasingly comfortable.

Many people had begun privately addressing him seriously as Young Master Guan.

After leaving the tavern, He Guan and Liu Bo supported each other as they staggered down an alley.

The night breeze carried a slight chill.

Blowing against their faces, it sobered them somewhat.

Liu Bo wiped his face carelessly with his hand, then turned to He Guan.

“We were far too careless just now. Walls have ears. If someone overheard us, we’d be in serious trouble.”

A trace of fear also rose within He Guan.

“Don’t worry. The booth next door was very quiet. I didn’t hear anyone there,” Liu Bo said.

To keep He Guan company, he had drunk too much himself and his reactions were somewhat slow.

However, when leaving the tavern, he had glanced into the neighbouring booth.

It had indeed been empty.

At that moment, He Guan suddenly felt the urge to urinate.

He stopped walking and relieved himself against a wall.

Just as he turned his head, he caught sight of a shadowy figure flashing past behind them.

A cold sweat instantly broke out across He Guan’s back.

He shot Liu Bo a meaningful glance.