Chapter 5: Taking Precautions Before the Rain

Chapter 5: Taking Precautions Before the Rain

Cheng Qianfan had refined features and carried a distinctly scholarly air.

The moment he put on the black police uniform and donned his police cap, the scholarly air was concealed, replaced by a natural firmness and heroic bearing between his brows.

He did not leave immediately.

Instead, he sat down and carefully cleaned his firearm.

This was his service pistol, not the gun he had carried with him yesterday.

The firearms used by the French Concession police were generally designated by metric calibres, with the Browning series being the most common.

Different ranks used different weapons.

Chinese and Annamese police officers in the French Concession used the 9 mm Bergmann-Bayard M1903 pistol.

Because there was a small horse emblem on the grip, people habitually referred to this pistol as the Horse Brand Luger.

The 9 mm ammunition used by the Horse Brand Luger was highly distinctive. It was rarely seen on the open market, and only police officers in the French Concession used this weapon, making its origin extremely obvious.

Therefore, when carrying out operations, Cheng Qianfan usually carried another pistol, a Mauser handgun he had purchased on the black market.

Mauser pistols were not only widely issued to Nationalist government regular forces and regional troops, they were also extensively used by Nationalist agents, Communist operatives, members of the Green Gang, bodyguards, and river bandits.

With such a commonplace firearm, tracing a person through the gun was practically impossible.

After repeatedly practicing several rapid draws from the holster,

Cheng Qianfan took a deep breath.

Old Liao’s sudden sacrifice was shrouded in mystery.

He did not know whether he had also attracted the enemy’s attention.

Perhaps he would be surrounded and arrested by Nationalist agents the moment he stepped outside today.

Perhaps he would be taken away by the French Concession Political Department as soon as he arrived at the police station.

Cheng Qianfan had never considered leaving.

If he had wanted to leave, he could have departed Shanghai immediately after Old Liao’s sacrifice yesterday.

He intended to remain and continue fighting.

He could not allow Old Liao’s sacrifice to have been in vain.

From the very first day he joined the revolution, Cheng Qianfan had prepared himself to sacrifice his life for the nation and the people at any moment.

The great Chinese nation, the Chinese nation burdened by profound suffering, required people to rise up and make sacrifices.

If necessary, he was willing to become one of those honoured individuals.

If once gone, never to return, then so be it.

To die for a worthy cause, what greater joy could there be?

The neighbours of Yande Lane watched Cheng Qianfan emerge leisurely in his crisp police uniform.

Although their expressions were somewhat complicated, most did not display much disgust or contempt.

Many of these elderly aunts and uncles had watched him grow up.

Police officers did not enjoy a particularly good reputation, but people were still willing to believe that this young man had a good heart.

Besides, having an acquaintance who was a police officer was hardly a bad thing in such troubled times.

“Brother Fan, save me! My dad’s going to beat me to death!” a half-grown boy came running over for help.

Cheng Qianfan promptly helped the boy’s father restrain him.

“Beat him. If your father doesn’t, I will.”

This little brat had recently been associating with several ”three-lights drifters”.

Sooner or later he would go bad.

The three-lights drifters were people who had eaten everything, spent everything, and pawned everything. Penniless, yet experts at eating, drinking, gambling, and womanizing.

For money, they would even sell their own parents.

“Brother Fan.”

Li Hao was crouching at the entrance of the alley smoking a cigarette, shivering from the cold. The moment he saw Cheng Qianfan emerge, he hurriedly stood up.

“I found something out.” Li Hao lowered his voice. “A few days ago, someone saw those people go to National Tongji University.”

“Did they arrest anyone?” Cheng Qianfan asked.

“Didn’t hear anything about it.” Li Hao shook his head.

“Good work.” Cheng Qianfan patted Li Hao on the shoulder.

“It was nothing.” Li Hao sniffed, pleased by the praise. “Brother Fan, then I’ll head to work.”

“Go get yourself a bowl of wontons or some pan-fried buns.” Cheng Qianfan pulled out several yuan in legal tender and stuffed it directly into Li Hao’s hand.

Not allowing any refusal, he gave him a light kick.

“Get lost. It’s freezing. Eat something hot.”

Li Hao sniffed again and grinned foolishly.

Li Hao’s nickname was Rat.

His parents had died when he was young, and all he knew was that his surname was Li.

He had been a hoodlum despised by both people and dogs.

Once, he had been beaten half to death and nearly froze to death outdoors during the winter.

Cheng Qianfan had saved his life with a bowl of hot wonton soup.

From then on, he followed Cheng Qianfan.

Whatever Cheng Qianfan told him to do, he did.

He had worked as a rickshaw puller.

He had done odd jobs at a pharmacy.

Now he was a conductor on French Electric Tram Route Two.

Watching Cheng Qianfan’s departing figure, Li Hao’s eyes reddened.

He never considered why Cheng Qianfan asked him to do those things.

He only knew that without Cheng Qianfan, he would have frozen or starved to death long ago and never survived until today.

And there was one more thing.

Brother Fan truly treated him like a human being.

Even the name Li Hao had been given to him by Brother Fan.

Cheng Qianfan did not hire a rickshaw.

Every day he walked to the police station.

From Yande Lane, it was less than a thirty-minute walk to the Central Police Station at 22 Rue Vallon.

Cheng Qianfan signed in.

After joking around with his colleagues for a while, he gradually drifted over to Ma Yishou.

“Master, you’re looking pretty good today. Made a fortune?”

Ma Yishou was a deputy sergeant.

After Cheng Qianfan graduated from the supplementary course at the Shanghai French Concession Police Academy last year and was assigned to the Central Police Station, he had worked under Ma Yishou.

Ma Yishou was his master.

No matter how successful Cheng Qianfan became in the future, he would always have to acknowledge this master-disciple relationship.

“Damn it!” Ma Yishou cursed. “Fortune my ass!”

Cheng Qianfan chuckled and topped off Ma Yishou’s cup with hot water without saying anything further.

He understood Ma Yishou’s temperament.

The man could never keep things bottled up.

There was no need to ask.

Sooner or later, he would speak on his own.

Quite a bit of intelligence had been obtained by Cheng Qianfan through exactly this method, from Ma Yishou’s casual remarks.

Yet today, Ma Yishou only hesitated and muttered vaguely, saying nothing more.

This secretly surprised Cheng Qianfan.

Ma Yishou glanced at Cheng Qianfan several times, wanting to say something, yet ultimately keeping it to himself.

Not long afterward, Sergeant Jin Kemu arrived and summoned Deputy Sergeant Ma Yishou to a meeting.

Only after the two superiors left did the atmosphere in the police hall become lively again.

Without needing to inquire deliberately, Cheng Qianfan was able to roughly piece together what had happened from everyone’s conversation.

That morning, while Ma Yishou had been smoking and boasting outside the police station, Xi Neng, chief of the Political Department Investigation Squad, had arrived.

Ma Yishou had immediately saluted and greeted him.

Unexpectedly, the Frenchman seemed to have swallowed gunpowder and launched into a furious tirade right in Ma Yishou’s face.

Xi Neng had been speaking French, so naturally nobody understood either why he was angry or what exactly he had said.

“Anyway, he was cursing fiercely. Old Ma couldn’t understand a word, which only made him more frightened,” Liu Bo said with a laugh.

Cheng Qianfan was considering the information Li Hao had uncovered.

Those agents had appeared at National Tongji University.

Yet no arrests had been made.

Nationalist agents constantly monitored student movements at universities.

The presence of agents there did not seem particularly unusual.

But Cheng Qianfan did not see it that way.

His instincts told him that Old Liao’s sacrifice was probably connected to this matter.

No arrests...

No, that only meant there had been no public arrests!

Then...

Could it have been a secret arrest?

Cheng Qianfan’s heart skipped a beat.

That was indeed a possibility.

He quietly recorded this analysis and speculation in his mind.