Chapter 15: Japanese Agents

Chapter 15: Japanese Agents

Old Liao chose to sacrifice himself to protect Cheng Qianfan.

Using his own life as the price, he completed the task the organization had assigned him: “Protect Comrade Flame.”

Disregarding his own safety, Cheng Qianfan had not chosen to immediately evacuate Shanghai.

He had his mission.

He had his convictions.

This was the final assignment given to him by his direct handler, Comrade Zhulin, before Zhulin’s arrest: find the spy and avenge the comrades who had died on the night-school front!

On a late night in early winter of 1935, a double-death case occurred in a private residence on McKee Road.

Two female tenants renting the house were discovered hanged to death inside.

The French Concession authorities ultimately concluded the case as having no signs of homicide and ruled that the two women had committed suicide by hanging.

The disturbance caused by the incident amounted only to a newspaper report stating, [Two Female Lodgers, Destitute and Impoverished, End Their Lives with Three Feet of Hemp Rope], prompting readers to sigh in sympathy.

Cheng Qianfan received orders from Comrade Zhulin to uncover the truth and avenge the fallen comrades!

The true identities of the two female tenants were teachers at one of the Party’s anti-Japanese night schools.

The two female comrades secretly organized female workers from cotton mills in the Japanese Settlement to attend evening classes.

They taught the workers to read and write.

At the same time, they used geography exhibitions to display the magnificent landscapes of their homeland, combining images and text and letting facts speak for themselves while embedding deeper meanings, inspiring patriotic enthusiasm among the masses and promoting resistance against Japan.

They were highly popular among the female workers.

One of those female comrades was Ms. Luo Huijun, the wife of Comrade Zhulin.

Cheng Qianfan had met Aunt Luo several times through Comrade Zhulin.

Aunt Luo had a hearty laugh.

Being from northern China, Aunt Luo could make dumplings filled with a mixture of meat and vegetables and could also fry meatballs. Sanxian dumplings.

They were delicious.

Her eyes seemed to shine.

They sparkled with faith in the revolution’s victory and in the certainty of victory against Japan.

Not long after receiving the assignment, Comrade Zhulin was arrested in the subsequent mass roundup.

Despite severe torture, he remained steadfast and unyielding.

In the end, he was escorted to Yuhuatai in Nanjing and heroically gave his life.

In Cheng Qianfan’s heart, even sacrificing his own life would be worth it if he could complete the final mission entrusted to him by Comrade Zhulin.

He became friends with Forensic Doctor Liu at the police hospital on Route Tallas.

After getting Doctor Liu drunk during a drinking session, Cheng Qianfan was able to see the confidential autopsy report from the case.

The report stated that both women had marks around their necks consistent with belts or similar restraints, along with numerous severe bruises from beatings.

This confirmed that they had been tortured during interrogation before being murdered, after which the scene had been staged to resemble suicide by hanging.

The most important piece of information had been obtained half a month earlier.

Li Hao had learned that on the night of the incident, a young beggar had been sheltering from the cold beneath a nearby roof overhang.

He had been driven away by a policeman.

Policemen did not patrol deep into the night unless they had some other purpose.

Because visibility was poor and the child was too frightened to look up, he never saw the policeman’s face.

Cheng Qianfan had every reason to suspect that a French Concession policeman had participated in the crime.

Most likely, the man had been standing watch outside.

The reason he did not suspect an impersonator was because, although the beggar had not seen the policeman’s face, he had noticed a brief flash of light from the policeman’s chest.

It was moonlight reflecting off something.

The day before the murders, the French Concession had distributed commemorative medals celebrating victory in the First World War and required all policemen to wear them on their chests.

Two days after the murders, the medals were withdrawn following protests from the Germans.

Therefore, policemen wore those medals only during those two days.

Moreover, the medals had been distributed exclusively to policemen and had never entered public circulation.

For that reason, Cheng Qianfan ruled out the possibility of someone impersonating a policeman.

Cheng Qianfan quietly began investigating inside the police force.

There were enormous numbers of policemen, making the task extremely difficult.

What truly caused him to suspect Old Mo was something he heard during casual workplace gossip.

The situation was unstable.

Even street thugs knew that the Japanese were eyeing Shanghai greedily, so worries were inevitable.

Once, after getting drunk, Old Mo had bragged to a group of hangers-on.

“No need to be afraid when the Japanese arrive. Boss Mo will make sure you eat well and live well.”

He had then pulled something from his pocket and waved it around proudly.

Before anyone could see it clearly, he put it away again.

Everyone else treated it as drunken boasting.

Old Mo was always bragging and talking nonsense.

Nobody took it seriously.

Cheng Qianfan treated the intelligence very seriously.

Especially the item Old Mo had displayed.

It might be the most direct piece of evidence.

Unfortunately, Old Mo was an expert at burglary and pickpocketing.

Obtaining something from him was extremely difficult.

Cheng Qianfan had attempted it several times but ultimately abandoned the idea.

It was too risky.

If Old Mo became suspicious, Cheng Qianfan’s identity could be exposed.

Therefore, Cheng Qianfan’s decision to seize upon the opportunity and beat Old Mo unconscious had served three purposes at once.

Cherry blossoms.

Japanese.

Cheng Qianfan pondered.

Previously, he had suspected agents of the Party Affairs Investigation Department.

Now, it appeared far more likely that Japanese operatives had committed the murders.

Cheng Qianfan strongly suspected that Old Mo had ties to the Japanese.

It was even possible that he was directly working for a Japanese intelligence organization.

His memory was exceptional.

In his mind, he recalled the blurred character engraved on the back of the token.

Tian?

Jing?

Tian?

It was difficult to tell.

And easy to guess incorrectly.

It seemed he would have to pay Old Mo another visit.

Murderous intent flickered in Cheng Qianfan’s eyes.

That was the most direct method.

At dusk.

Route Père Robert.

Shuanglong Lane Residence.

Outside a room on the third floor, a young delivery boy carrying an insulated food container knocked on the door.

“Sir, your meal delivery.”

No one answered from inside.

The boy knocked again.

Still no response.

“Sir, I’ll leave it outside the door. Remember to pick it up. I’ll come back later for the container.”

The boy set down the insulated container and turned to leave.

At the corner of the corridor, Song Fuguo was waiting in concealment with several men.

“Xitou, how was it?”

“No answer.”

Xitou shook his head and whispered.

“Doesn’t seem like anyone’s there.”

“Big Eyes.”

Song Fuguo spoke in a low voice.

A skinny young man with narrowed eyes, dressed like a gang member, handed his pistol to a companion.

After checking the dagger at his waist, he gritted his teeth and approached the room.

About thirty seconds later, the door opened.

Big Eyes silently pushed it wider and slipped inside with a catlike roll.

Everyone stared toward the room.

The companion holding Big Eyes’ pistol looked tense, ready to rush in and provide support at any moment.

Then Big Eyes poked his head out and gave a hand signal.

“Bloody hell!”

Deputy Team Leader Liao Zhishen cursed and quickly led his men across the corridor into the room.

The entire room had been cleaned spotless.

Not even half a scrap of paper remained.

“Team Leader, we’re too late.”

After conducting a thorough inspection, Deputy Team Leader Liao Zhishen reported to Song Fuguo.

“It doesn’t look like he stepped out temporarily. It looks more like he relocated.”

“Damn it!”

Song Fuguo’s face darkened as he cursed.

They had already lost track of the target.

Then, just when all seemed lost, hope had appeared.

Liao Zhishen, who handled field operations, had received intelligence.

One of their field operatives working as a rickshaw puller had picked up a passenger on Route Père Robert who matched the suspected surveillance target.

The man wore a hat that concealed half his face.

What truly aroused suspicion was that the passenger had muttered a curse in Japanese while riding in the rickshaw.

The information had been reported immediately.

Liao Zhishen was a local Shanghai native with extensive gang connections.

Using those connections, he finally identified this location within Shuanglong Lane Residence.

Although Song Fuguo had already guessed that the target would relocate immediately after realizing he was being followed, he still retained a sliver of hope.

The result, however, was exactly as disappointing as he had expected.

“Mr. Fu, are you home? My family made wontons, and you...”

A middle-aged man knocked on the door.

The door was open.

He pushed it and walked in.

The moment he saw a group of fierce-looking men holding pistols inside the room, he froze in terror.