Chapter 34: The Bait

Chapter 34: The Bait

Cheng Qianfan had previously judged that Old Mo’s corpse would be discovered sometime during this morning at the earliest.

He realized he had overlooked one thing: Old Mo’s extremely poor interpersonal relationships at the police station.

Old Huang’s complaints in the duty room, and the anger he displayed, felt more like a performance.

He was making it clear that he had not neglected Old Mo.

It was Old Mo himself who had failed to come to the medical room for a dressing change.

After finishing his complaints, Old Huang belched from drink and staggered off.

“Old Huang, why don’t you go check on Old Mo at his house?”

Liu Bo teased.

“No.”

Old Huang immediately shook his head and stiffened his neck.

“Why should I?”

“Old Huang, a healer’s heart is compassionate.”

He Guan called out in a strange tone.

Pretending not to hear, Old Huang clasped his hands behind his back and wobbled away.

He was heading toward the canteen.

“Liu-ge.”

Cheng Qianfan tossed over a cigarette.

Liu Bo caught it and casually thanked him.

Cheng Qianfan put a cigarette in his own mouth, then handed cigarettes to He Guan and the friendly Big-Head Lu as well.

He casually tossed the cigarette pack onto the table.

“Anyone who wants one, help yourselves.”

Amid the clouds of smoke, Cheng Qianfan pondered Liu Bo’s earlier remark.

On the surface, it seemed like nothing more than a casual joke directed at Old Huang.

Perfectly normal.

But to Cheng Qianfan, who was deliberately paying attention, it carried a different implication.

No one else had joked about having Old Huang check on Old Mo.

Why had Liu Bo brought it up?

Going a step further, why Liu Bo specifically?

Liu Bo and Old Mo had never gotten along particularly well.

Cheng Qianfan’s intuition told him that Liu Bo was indeed paying attention to Old Mo.

The attention was simply very well concealed.

Without deliberate analysis, it would have been difficult to notice.

With nothing better to do, everyone began speculating about why Old Mo had failed to show up for his dressing change.

Big-Head Lu waggled his eyebrows.

“I heard Old Mo has a sweetheart. Since he’s off duty and resting at home, he’ll probably be working overtime.”

“Overtime my ass.”

One constable chuckled.

“Considering how badly Old Mo got beaten by Xiao Cheng...”

Cough, cough, cough.

Cheng Qianfan immediately started coughing repeatedly.

“Oh right, Old Mo was injured in the line of duty. Looking at how miserable he was, he’d be lucky just lying in bed waiting for someone to feed him.”

“Old Mo can’t move, but someone else can.”

Someone raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Everyone burst into knowing laughter.

Cheng Qianfan and He Guan, the two younger men, did not understand.

Still, they pretended to understand and joined in the laughter.

Big-Head Lu and the others became increasingly animated.

They exchanged looks and grins as though communicating in secret code.

You understand, he understands.

After listening for a while, Cheng Qianfan and He Guan finally understood.

The two young men blushed bright red and retreated to smoke in a corner.

“Vulgar!”

He Guan cursed softly.

Then he looked up and saw Clerk Peng from the records office crossing the courtyard.

For some reason, the swaying hips and flirtatious mannerisms of Clerk Peng, which he had always found annoying, suddenly seemed much less irritating.

In fact... they looked rather nice.

“Shameless!”

“The free and noble France is merely an illusion. Fundamentally, they are no different from the Japanese. They are both old imperialist powers, preaching freedom and democracy while remaining filthy scavengers at heart. Having grown accustomed to privilege, they are terrified of newly rising imperialist powers.”

“The French and the British keep retreating. They hope the Japanese will be satisfied once they’ve eaten their fill and stop further encroaching upon their interests in China. They are nurturing a tiger that will eventually bring disaster.”

Fang Muheng shouted from his prison cell.

In the neighboring cell, Zhu Yuan had initially managed to join in with a few slogans.

Now he rolled over, deliberately aggravating his wounds and letting out a cry of pain.

“Zhu Yuan, are you alright?”

Hearing the noise, Fang Muheng quickly asked.

“I’m fine.”

Zhu Yuan gritted his teeth.

“What you’re saying is absolutely right. There isn’t a single good imperialist power.”

“I only dare use my pen and my voice to shout and vent my fury.”

Through the bars separating the cells, Fang Muheng saw the wounds covering his fellow prisoner’s body.

He felt both anger and admiration.

“I don’t dare take real action. Compared to people like you, I’m far inferior. You’re a true hero who fought the Japanese with real weapons on the Northeastern front.”

“No.”

Zhu Yuan replied with a serious expression.

“You use your voice and your pen to enlighten the public and awaken patriotism and resistance. That’s extremely important as well.”

Then he sighed deeply.

“I... I’m simply unwilling. I didn’t die on the anti-Japanese front lines, yet I’m about to die at the hands of those dog lackeys. I refuse to accept it!”

“I won’t just stand by and watch you die.”

Fang Muheng’s eyes blazed.

“I’ll be released very soon. I’m a journalist. I’ll publish your story. I’ll make all of Shanghai and all of China know that a great hero who fought bravely against the Japanese in the Northeast didn’t fall on the battlefield, but was arrested by the French Concession and may even be extradited to the National Government and murdered.”

“What bitter irony. What profound injustice.”

“It will bring sorrow to loved ones and joy to enemies.”

“I’ll use public outrage and the power of public opinion to rescue you!”

Fang Muheng clenched his fists.

One hour later, Wu Shanyue, chief of the Operations Section of the Shanghai Special District of the Party Affairs Investigation Department, received a telephone call.

The bait had been released today.

The fish had taken the hook.

The following morning.

Old Mo still had not come to the police station medical room to have his dressing changed.

Ma Yishou finally gave instructions.

If Old Mo still failed to appear tomorrow, Old Huang was to visit his house and check on him.

At noon, Cheng Qianfan placed a telephone call to the Fang residence.

The maid answered.

He asked her to inform Tang Xiaoye that Fang Muheng would be released that evening.

At the intersection of Avenue Albert and Avenue Joffre in the French Concession stood a bookstore that had been open for less than six months.

Behind the bookstore was a storage room.

The night was already deep.

No electric lights were on inside.

Only a kerosene lamp burned.

Its shade blocked most of the light.

Bamboo blinds had been lowered over the windows, and paper stuffed into the gaps.

Several workers were busily occupied.

They were printing the latest issue of Red Flag Newspaper.

Zhou Hongsu paced continuously at the doorway.

He was both standing watch and waiting for news.

Earlier that evening, a comrade infiltrated within Shen Bao had sent a signal requesting an emergency contact meeting.

This left Zhou Hongsu extremely nervous.

A lower-level operative requesting an urgent meeting with a superior was a procedure reserved for the gravest emergencies.

Had that comrade been exposed?

Had another comrade been arrested?

Or was another major sweep about to begin?

Knock, knock, knock-knock-knock, knock-knock.

Someone knocked at the side door.

The knocking was extremely soft.

Had Zhou Hongsu not been listening attentively, he might not have heard it at all.

Zhou Hongsu signaled everyone to be cautious.

Puff!

Someone immediately extinguished the kerosene lamp.

Others grabbed table legs, bamboo poles, and various other perfectly ordinary “weapons.”

Zhou Hongsu quietly stepped outside.

“Who is it?”

“Old Guan.”

“What do you want?”

“We’re out of lard at home. I came to borrow 0.15 kg (~0.33 lb) of vinegar.”

Zhou Hongsu opened the side door.

“Our friend has been released. This is a photograph he took at the time.”

“There’s also a newspaper. It’s very important.”

“It was just printed. It’ll be published tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you for your hard work. Stay safe.”

The courier did not enter.

He did not even glance inside.

He departed quickly and disappeared into the night.