Chapter 41: Older Ginger Is Still Spicier

Chapter 41: Older Ginger Is Still Spicier

After a brief moment of thought, Cheng Qianfan understood Qin Detai’s intention.

To cover it up.

A traitor had emerged from the police station. This was a major scandal.

If this matter were exposed, the repercussions would be extremely bad. As one of the top figures at the Central Police Station, Qin Detai would inevitably be affected first.

Compared to a traitorous policeman being killed, a policeman hanging himself looked much better on the surface.

Moreover, the reason for this policeman’s suicide was supposedly his deep loyalty and devotion to family. If anything, it might even evoke a wave of sighs and sympathy.

As for whether people who knew Old Mo’s character would believe it, those were insignificant details.

Once Qin Detai had defined the nature of Old Mo’s death, then that became the official truth.

Cheng Qianfan could not help admiring Qin Detai’s methods and ability. Older ginger really was spicier.

He had given the matter no chance to ferment or spread. Decisively and cleanly, he had directly established the official conclusion.

That was good as well. Although it could not be ruled out that Qin Detai might privately investigate the cause of Old Mo’s death, at least on the official level, such a conclusion was an excellent outcome for Cheng Qianfan.

Moreover, Cheng Qianfan could not help maliciously speculating that, judging from Qin Detai’s attitude toward Old Mo, Old Mo’s death might well have been something Qin Detai was happy to see.

Especially if Old Mo truly was a traitor. He was a landmine. Had he exploded any later, Qin Detai would inevitably have been implicated as well. After all, it was Qin Detai who had arranged for Old Mo to enter the police station.

“I wonder which hero got rid of Old Mo...” He Guan twirled his police cap on a finger, looking thoroughly cynical and carefree.

However, the longing in his eyes allowed Cheng Qianfan to discern something.

This kid was very interested in the person who had eliminated Old Mo. To be precise, He Guan held a trace of admiration for the heroes who resisted Japan and eliminated traitors.

Cheng Qianfan had no choice but to repeatedly remind He Guan not to reveal such emotions to any outsider.

“What are you afraid of? Great Shanghai is still Chinese territory.” He Guan was unconcerned.

“This is the French Concession. It’s French territory.” Cheng Qianfan replied with a cold laugh.

“You really are no fun.” He Guan muttered unhappily. He pulled several strips of 9mm Browning ammunition from his pocket and tossed them to Cheng Qianfan. “Take them for self-defence.”

Cheng Qianfan pulled out his service pistol, removed the magazine, and tossed it to He Guan. Then he took out his own empty magazine and leisurely pressed the bullets into it.

“I’m off.” He Guan waved his hand.

Watching the fellow’s departing figure, Cheng Qianfan shook his head slightly. He Guan’s admiration for the heroes who eliminated traitors reassured him, but also worried him somewhat.

After He Guan left, Cheng Qianfan’s expression became serious.

He was now eighty percent certain that Liu Bo was working for the Japanese.

Regarding Liu Bo’s identity, Cheng Qianfan had two theories.

Liu Bo was Chinese. In that case, he was a traitor.

Liu Bo was actually Japanese. In that case, he was a Japanese spy.

Most people would probably never suspect that Liu Bo might be Japanese.

Cheng Qianfan was different.

During his studies at the East Asia Common Culture Academy, Cheng Qianfan had deeply realized both the extent of Japan’s ambitions toward China and how deeply those ambitions were concealed.

Many Japanese students spoke Chinese. Their lifestyles and eating habits were entirely in accordance with Chinese customs.

Even when cursing, these Japanese used Chinese dialects, achieving a level of disguise that was completely convincing.

It could be said that there was virtually no difference between their words and actions and those of Chinese people.

The Japanese purpose in cultivating these agents, who were more Chinese than the Chinese themselves, was obvious.

Cheng Qianfan could already imagine that in every profession across China, there were certainly many such Japanese agents lying hidden.

They were the eyes and ears of the Japanese invaders, their greedy and vicious gazes sweeping across the land of China.

Regarding Liu Bo, Cheng Qianfan reminded himself that he had to remain highly vigilant. The thought that a Japanese spy might be hiding right beside him, and that they even had a good relationship, sent a chill down his spine.

In an alleyway, He Guan lightly slapped his own face. Thinking about how he had actually suspected Cheng Qianfan of being the one who had killed Old Mo, he felt he had wronged his good friend.

Now he was reassured. Based on his observations, Cheng Qianfan’s surprise and fleeting flash of happiness upon hearing of Old Mo’s death were enough to prove that the matter had nothing to do with him.

Yet after eliminating Cheng Qianfan from suspicion, a faint trace of disappointment inexplicably arose in the young policeman’s heart.

Cheng Qianfan stir-fried several dishes.

A plate of dried shrimp and eggs.

A plate of braised pork.

And a dish of pan-fried small yellow croaker.

“Haozi, off work already?”

“Yep, just got off work. Hello, Granny Ma.”

“Haozi, here to see your Brother Fan?”

“Yeah. Is Brother Fan home?”

“He is. Didn’t see him go out this afternoon.”

“Haozi, something incredible happened. Your Brother Fan nearly lost his life today.”

“Ah!”

“That’s right. Listen while I tell you all about it.”

The half-closed door could not block the conversation from the alley. Cheng Qianfan soon heard Li Hao hurriedly push the door open and rush in.

“Brother Fan, are you alright? I just heard...”

“I’m fine.” Cheng Qianfan smiled. “Dinner’s ready. Time to eat.”

Li Hao set the bottle of liquor he was carrying onto the table and bounded forward in a few strides. He looked Cheng Qianfan up and down repeatedly, only relaxing after confirming that he was not injured.

“I told you I’m fine.” Feeling Li Hao’s concern, Cheng Qianfan smiled. “Go wash your hands.”

“Okay.”

During dinner, Li Hao repeatedly asked what had happened that morning.

Unable to fend him off, Cheng Qianfan gave him a rough account.

“What is it?” Cheng Qianfan put down his chopsticks and looked at the unusually silent Li Hao.

“Brother Fan, it’s my fault. I didn’t protect you properly.” Li Hao raised his head, his eyes red. “I didn’t come this morning.”

“Come on, what’s that got to do with you?” Cheng Qianfan said with a smile. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m perfectly fine. Besides, it’s fortunate you didn’t come. Otherwise, you’d have been in danger too.”

“I’m not afraid of danger.” Li Hao lifted his chin stubbornly. “I’m willing to take a bullet for you, Brother Fan.”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Cheng Qianfan became angry.

“Brother Fan, I’m serious.” Li Hao wiped away his tears. “I’m not afraid of dying. I’m only afraid something will happen to you. Ever since I was old enough to remember things, you’ve been the only person who treated me well. You’re my brother. If something happens to you, I’ll have no family left. I’d rather something happen to me if it means protecting you.”

Cheng Qianfan looked at Li Hao, whose face was covered in tears and mucus. Listening to these words, he felt a warm current rise within his heart. “I can protect myself. Don’t say things like that again. I don’t want anything to happen to you either.”

“Brother Fan, my life is worthless. You’re more important than me.” Li Hao spoke stubbornly.

“Shut up!” Cheng Qianfan slapped the table. Seeing Li Hao’s frightened and bewildered expression, he sighed. “Haozi, remember this. Your life is not worthless. I don’t want to hear you say such things again.”

“Brother Fan, I...”

“Haozi, remember this forever.” Cheng Qianfan’s expression was incomparably serious. “You, Li Hao, are no less than anyone else. Your life is precious. You have dignity. You have the right to pursue a happy life. You are Li Hao, an upright Chinese man. You are my younger brother, Cheng Qianfan’s younger brother. You are my family. Do you understand?”

“Brother Fan, I understand.” Li Hao’s eyes were red. Gritting his teeth, he nodded heavily, as though he wanted to chew those words to pieces, swallow them into his stomach, and merge them with his very being.