Chapter 21: Interrogation

Chapter 21: Interrogation

Cheng Qianfan landed lightly on the ground and rolled with the momentum.

He got up and leaned into the corner by the wall.

Using the dim moonlight, he surveyed the room.

The furnishings were simple.

A table, a bed, and a wardrobe.

There was no one on the bed.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar.

He crept over to the doorway and, through the crack, could vaguely see light on the first floor.

It was more or less as he had guessed. Old Mo was injured and had difficulty moving, so he would most likely be resting on the first floor.

Although Old Mo looked rather miserable, his injuries were basically external wounds. After Old Huang from the medical room had given him a simple bandaging, arrangements had been made to send Old Mo home.

He only needed regular dressing changes.

Jin Kemu had also waved his hand generously and granted Old Mo a week’s medical leave.

Sure enough, when Cheng Qianfan quietly descended to the first floor, he saw that the bedside lamp in the small downstairs bedroom was on. Old Mo’s head, hands, and feet were all wrapped in bandages, and he lay on the bed like a mummy. Perhaps because of the pain, he slept restlessly and occasionally let out a low groan or two.

Cheng Qianfan casually took a towel from a shelf and walked to Old Mo’s bedside.

One hand seized Old Mo’s chin and squeezed hard.

“Ah!”

Half asleep and half awake, Old Mo was jolted awake by the pain and opened his mouth wide to scream.

Cheng Qianfan’s other hand swiftly stuffed the towel into Old Mo’s mouth. The pain made him struggle on the bed, but all he could produce were muffled whimpers.

His face was swollen like a pig’s head, clearly affecting his vision as well. He forced his terrified eyes open, but all he could see was a blurry shadow before him.

During the day, Cheng Qianfan had paid special attention to Old Mo’s face for precisely this reason.

Cheng Qianfan hauled Old Mo up and threw him into a chair. Then, with a ripping motion, he tore the bedsheet into strips and skillfully bound him to the chair.

After finishing all this, he did not begin the interrogation immediately.

Instead, he turned and left, returning from the kitchen carrying a salt jar.

Old Mo was terrified and struggled desperately, to no avail.

“No rush, no rush,” Cheng Qianfan said in a hoarse voice. His tone, however, was exceptionally gentle. Using his dagger, he cut open the bandage on Old Mo’s hand, slowly unwrapped it, then grabbed a handful of salt and sprinkled it directly onto the bloody, mangled palm.

“Ughhh!”

Cheng Qianfan casually pulled over a stool and sat opposite him, expressionless as he watched the man tied to the chair struggle frantically, shaking as though stricken by a violent fever. Finally, Old Mo’s eyes rolled back, and he fainted from the intense pain.

Cheng Qianfan picked up the foot basin beside the bed and dumped the water inside over him.

Looking at the revived Old Mo, Cheng Qianfan clapped his hands.

“Good. Officer Mo, you should be awake now. We can have a proper talk.”

“Mmph, mmph.”

“I’m taking out the towel now. I hope Officer Mo will cooperate and not shout. If you disturb the neighbors in the middle of the night, I’ll be very angry.” Cheng Qianfan patted Old Mo on the head. “If you can do that, nod.”

Old Mo nodded frantically.

“Very good. I like obedient people.” Cheng Qianfan removed the towel.

Just as the man opened his mouth to shout, Cheng Qianfan slapped him across the face.

“Hold it in!”

The facts proved that Old Mo was a real “tough guy.” He forcibly endured the pain, gritted his teeth, and did not dare make a sound.

“Very good.”

Cheng Qianfan nodded.

“Officer Mo, let me introduce myself. I’m from the National Government’s Special Service Office. My surname is Mo. Look at that, we’re from the same clan. What a coincidence.”

“Speak up. Say hello.” Another slap landed. “You’re very rude.”

“M-Mr. Mo, I don’t know how I’ve offended an esteemed gentleman like you. Please enlighten me.”

“Officer Mo, now you’re being dishonest. You should know very well what our Special Service Office does.” Cheng Qianfan sneered. “Tell me, other than matters involving the Japanese, what else could make me come all this way in the middle of the night?”

“Mr. Mo, don’t joke around. I... I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Old Mo said in a trembling voice.

“Officer Mo, you’re not being honest, and I don’t have the best temper.”

He walked to the bedside cabinet, rummaged through it, and took out the token.

“I’m very interested in what this token represents. Please explain it to me.”

Old Mo opened his mouth but said nothing.

Seeing that the man was still trying to deny everything, Cheng Qianfan wasted no more words. He stepped forward, drew his pistol, and pressed it against Old Mo’s forehead.

“I’m a crude man, and I don’t have much patience. I’ll count from one to ten. If Officer Mo still refuses to cooperate, I’ll shoot.”

With that, he began counting.

“One, two, three...”

The barrel was pressed directly against Old Mo’s skull. His whole body trembled violently, yet he still did not speak.

“Six!” Cheng Qianfan said coldly.

“You skipped four and five!” Old Mo was terrified and shouted in a trembling voice.

“My apologies. I’m impatient. Nine!” Cheng Qianfan moved his thumb, disengaging the safety on the Mauser pistol. The crisp sound was terrifyingly clear in the tense silence.

That broke Old Mo completely.

“I’ll talk, I’ll talk.”

Old Mo had been thoroughly frightened by Cheng Qianfan’s coldness and cruelty. He wished he could confess everything in a single breath. His instincts told him that if he did not start talking, this Special Service agent surnamed Mo really would pull the trigger.

Before Old Mo became a police constable, when he still drifted around making a living on the streets, he had become acquainted with a medicinal-herb merchant named Huang San. The two could be considered drinking companions.

Because of Old Miao’s connections, Old Mo became a police constable in the French Concession, and Huang San’s dealings with him became even more frequent.

The two often spent time together. Old Mo loved gambling, and whenever he was short of money, Huang San would lend him large sums without batting an eye.

Gradually, as Old Mo’s debts grew larger and larger, Huang San came to collect.

Old Mo was a shameless rogue. After becoming a police constable, he grew even more arrogant. He turned hostile and refused to acknowledge the debt, intending to default on it.

Huang San immediately changed his attitude and revealed his identity as a Japanese agent.

Huang San gave Old Mo two choices. One was to work for the Japanese and enjoy money and women. The other was to repay the debt with his life.

Thus, under Huang San’s threats and inducements, Old Mo was “forced” to begin serving the Japanese.

Of course, that was Old Mo’s version of events. Cheng Qianfan dismissed it with contempt.

Based on his understanding of Old Mo’s character, and on the boasting he had done while drunk that one time, there may indeed have been some coercion. More likely, however, it was the temptation of benefits that won him over. Nine times out of ten, he had willingly worked for the Japanese, and was probably quite pleased with himself, thinking he had found a powerful backer.

“What is Huang San’s Japanese name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where does he live?”

“The Hundred Herbs Medicine Shop on Avenue Joffre. He owns it.”

“This token.”

“On the fifth day of every month, I can use the token to collect operating funds.”

“Where do you collect them? From Huang San?” Cheng Qianfan immediately pressed.

“No. After that incident, Huang San stopped contacting me... He told me not to look for him again. The funds...” At this point, Old Mo hesitated.