Chapter 3: Sacrifice

Chapter 3: Sacrifice

“A gun!”

“They’re going to kill someone!”

“Mum! Mum! Mum!”

“Little girl! Little girl! Little girl!”

The scene instantly descended into chaos.

Seeing the number of enemies closing in around him, Old Liao knew it would be difficult to break out.

“Ding ding dang, ding ding dang!”

The tram was getting closer.

Old Liao raised his head and glanced at it. At most, another thirty seconds and the tram would arrive at the stop.

Cheng Qianfan would get off and come for the rendezvous.

“Comrade Flame may be young, but he is an experienced veteran of the struggle. He should be able to control himself and won’t act rashly!”

Flame was Cheng Qianfan’s codename.

But Old Liao knew that under these circumstances, even if Comrade Flame merely glanced in this direction once, or showed the slightest abnormal expression, it would attract the enemy’s attention.

Most importantly, he was Comrade Flame’s sole contact. Once he was arrested, according to organizational discipline, Comrade Flame would have to relocate immediately.

This had nothing to do with whether Comrade Flame trusted him to withstand the enemy’s brutal torture.

This was organizational discipline.

“Old Liao, Comrade Flame is extremely important. You must protect him well.”

Those were the words Comrade Zhulin had spoken while gripping his hands with both of his own when assigning him to be Flame’s contact.

At the end of last year, the Shanghai Special Branch organization had been destroyed by the enemy and suffered catastrophic losses. Comrade Zhulin had also been arrested and heroically sacrificed his life.

This was the final mission Comrade Zhulin had given him.

Old Liao understood what Comrade Zhulin meant. It was not merely protecting Flame’s life.

He also had to protect Flame’s legitimate identity.

Under the current brutal circumstances of the struggle, a comrade who had successfully infiltrated the concession police force and possessed a spotless background capable of withstanding enemy investigation was simply too precious.

Old Liao touched the bottle of liquor in his hand.

Determination blossomed in his eyes.

From the first day he joined the revolution, he had already cast aside all concern for his own life and death.

He had imagined a day like today countless times.

He was mentally prepared.

If he could not escape, he would not hesitate to sacrifice his life at the final moment, cutting off the danger with himself.

Under no circumstances could the Party organization’s safety be threatened.

And in the present situation, under no circumstances could Comrade Flame’s safety be threatened.

Old Liao suddenly thrust a hand into his coat.

“Careful, the old man’s got a gun!”

Bang!

Bang!

One of the team members fired first, and one shot struck Old Liao in the chest.

“Bastards, who told you to open fire?!”

“We need him alive.”

Wang Kangnian came rushing down from upstairs with his men, furious.

At that moment, he was one hundred percent certain that the old man had come today to meet with the Communists.

“Save him! Stop the bleeding!”

This old man could not die.

Cheng Qianfan had just stepped off the tram when he heard a gunshot, Bang!

His heart instantly leapt into his throat.

Amid screams, the crowd at the scene and the passengers disembarking from the tram dissolved into chaos, everyone scrambling for their lives.

Hidden among the crowd and using it as cover, Cheng Qianfan glanced toward the source of the gunfire.

Two more shots rang out, Bang! Bang!

“Old Liao?!”

Although it had only been a fleeting glance, Cheng Qianfan was absolutely certain. The familiar figure, the slightly stooped elderly man who had been shot and fallen to the ground, was Old Liao, the veteran Party member preparing to rendezvous with him, his loyal comrade on the revolutionary road.

Cheng Qianfan’s heart sank to the bottom.

“Old Liao!”

Through the gaps in the crowd, his gaze met that of Old Liao lying on the ground.

A secret agent was pressing hard against Old Liao’s chest, trying to stop the flowing blood.

The dark red blood seemed eager to soak into the earth, pooling behind Old Liao into a small crimson puddle.

Cheng Qianfan’s eyes reddened.

Old Liao’s body convulsed. Using the last of his strength, he deliberately turned his head away from that direction. When he turned back, a faint smile lingered at the corner of his aged eyes.

Wang Kangnian’s heart stirred, and he looked up.

All he saw was a mass of panicked civilians.

He found no suspicious individuals.

The moment Wang Kangnian sensed something, Cheng Qianfan had already taken advantage of the chaos. Concealed and swift, he turned around and hid himself among the fleeing citizens.

Flowing with the stream of escaping people, without looking back once, he left!

His steps were quick. Slightly bent forward, he protected the bottle of liquor in his hand, as though that bottle were Old Liao himself, lying on the ground in a spreading pool of blood.

Not far behind him, Old Liao lay quietly there.

His aged body rested beside the black-and-white steps of the tram platform, just like the black earth and white mountains of his homeland.

Flowing blood merged with the yellow rice wine spilling from the shattered bottle...

A smile remained on Old Liao’s face, as though he were saying: Old woman, children, I’ve completed the mission. I’m coming to find you now.

“Damn that crazy bitch!” Ding Naifei rapidly searched Old Liao’s entire body, then spat at the corpse. “This old man fooled us. He didn’t have a gun!”

Hearing this, Wang Kangnian’s expression grew even darker.

The old man’s action had been intended to trick the action team into opening fire.

He had been seeking death!

This man had been willing to sacrifice his own life to protect the person he was meeting.

That could only mean one thing.

The person he was protecting was extraordinarily important.

Such a huge fish had slipped through his fingers just like that.

Wang Kangnian was so furious he wanted to kill someone.

He turned and slapped Ding Naifei across the face.

“Useless fool!”

Tweet! Tweet! Tweet!

The police officers of the French Concession arrived at last, blowing their whistles.

“Team Leader, the police are here,” one of the action team members said anxiously.

The Party Affairs Investigation Department had no authority to enforce the law inside the French Concession. Especially since shots had been fired this time, the incident had become a major affair.

If they were caught by the police, the French would be delighted to teach them a lesson.

Wang Kangnian felt grief and indignation.

This was the territory of his own country, yet it had been occupied by foreigners under the euphemism of a concession. It was truly a humiliation to the soldiers of the Nationalist government.

Wang Kangnian first glanced toward a team member standing in a corner.

A camera hung around the man’s neck.

The man nodded to him.

Wang Kangnian let out a breath and ground out a single word through clenched teeth.

“Withdraw!”

A car screeched to a halt.

Wang Kangnian and that team member quickly climbed aboard. The driver immediately stepped on the accelerator and sped away.

The remaining team members, under Ding Naifei’s leadership, scattered and disappeared into the maze of large and small alleyways as if fleeing for their lives.

Lu Dazhang, the police sergeant of Avenue Joffre, arrived with several patrol officers. After glancing at the corpse on the ground, he muttered a curse and ordered people to remove the body.

The crowd that had scattered moments earlier gradually gathered again.

Some watched with numb expressions.

Some showed pity.

Others pointed and discussed the incident among themselves...

“Old Liao, I will never let your blood be shed in vain.”

Cheng Qianfan’s pace was brisk, but his heart was weighed down by immeasurable grief and sorrow.

Old Liao’s sacrifice filled him with anguish and rage.

For one brief moment, he had almost been unable to stop himself from rushing in and trying to rescue his comrade, his brother-in-arms, from the enemy encirclement.

But he had ruthlessly crushed that thought himself.

It was not because he was cold-hearted.

Rather, those who remain alive sometimes carry a burden heavier than the dead.

Every survivor carries upon their shoulders the hopes and final wishes of so many fallen comrades!

That was the cruelty of underground work.

To witness a comrade’s sacrifice with one’s own eyes, powerless to help, able only to turn away and leave, what a cruel and agonizing torment that was.

Especially Old Liao’s final resolute look.

Cheng Qianfan would never forget it for the rest of his life:

Go! Go! Hurry and go!

“Old Liao, farewell. Perhaps one day in the future, I too will die at the hands of the enemy. Then we shall fight side by side again in the courts of King Yama, and battle that man-eating lord of death for eight hundred rounds.

If I am fortunate enough to live until the day of victory, I will bring news of that victory to your grave.

I will drink with you and chat with you, and tell you:

We Chinese are not slaves to be butchered at the whim of others!

We Chinese have stood up.

We Chinese are living well...”

Carrying the liquor, Cheng Qianfan did everything he could to keep his face calm and unchanged from usual.

He went to Wanzhenxing Delicatessen and bought Wanzhenxing pig trotters and fatty pig head meat dripping with grease.

After wandering around for a while, he bought a roast chicken, 0.25 kg (~0.55 lb) of stinky tofu, braised soybeans, and 1 kg (~2.2 lb) of pan-fried buns.

He also bought some salt-roasted peanuts and pickled vegetables.

“Anfu Lane.” Cheng Qianfan waved and climbed into a rickshaw.

The rickshaw moved through the busiest districts of the French Concession.

Fashionable women in qipao dresses carried handbags on their arms and swayed gracefully as they walked.

Old-school Shanghai gentlemen wearing fedoras stood beside easels, while young girls looked on with admiration.

The dazzling lights and flourishing pleasures of great Shanghai appeared only in black and white to Cheng Qianfan.

The rickshaw puller ran with all his strength, sweat dripping despite the cold weather.

There were tears on Cheng Qianfan’s cheeks as well.

He lowered his hat to hide his sorrowful eyes.

Cheng Qianfan wiped his face and forced a smile. He hummed a tune, its melody cheerful.

He could not allow anyone to notice his grief...