Spy game? Stop guessing, I really am an undercover agent!

Chapter 162 The plan begins

Shanghai, September 17, 1938, sunny.

The lingering summer heat of 1938 still gripped Shanghai's lifeline.

The broad leaves of the sycamore trees lining Ferguson Road in the French Concession drooped listlessly, motionless.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, the heavy black gate of the Tang Mansion, studded with copper nails, opened silently, and a figure in a long robe walked out. The person bowed to the inside and then left.

Not far from the main gate, Zhang Zixian and several of his men sat in the shadows, cautiously surveying their surroundings.

"Longhair, take some men and investigate who that person who just came out is," Zhang Zixian ordered, but Longhair behind him did not react.

When Zhang Zixian turned around, he saw that Changmao's eyes were bloodshot and he had an absent-minded expression. Instantly, he understood what was going on.

"What? You lost a lot of money?"

Longhair snapped out of his daze and gave a relieved smile: "It's alright, team leader, we can handle it."

Zhang Zixian patted Changmao on the shoulder: "After this operation is over, there will be a reward from above. I'll lend you some of it. Be careful in the future, and don't gamble anymore."

A hint of gratitude appeared in Longhair's eyes. Before he could speak, he suddenly caught a glimpse of several figures in short jackets walking towards them out of the corner of his eye.

"Brother Zhang, I'm going to the restroom." As soon as he finished speaking, Long Hair dashed off.

The other figures followed closely behind the long-haired man.

Meanwhile, on Ferguson Road, a man and a woman walked hand in hand, like lovers in the throes of passion, carrying large and small bags.

The two chatted and laughed all the way, with the woman leaning against the man without any hesitation, almost clinging to him.

"Team leader, look," one of the subordinates said, immediately showing a surprised expression upon seeing the woman's appearance.

Zhang Zixian was usually very generous and had taken them to Jinyulou a few times, so the agent knew Cuicui. Now, seeing this woman brazenly following a man around the streets, he felt a surge of indignation.

Zhang Zixian looked up at the sound and his face instantly darkened: "Damn it, bitch!"

"I can't stand it anymore after just a few days without seeing her."

"You two watch, I want to see who's so reckless as to touch my woman, he doesn't want to live anymore."

Before his two subordinates could stop him, he rushed out.

At that very moment, on the rooftop of a residential building on Ferguson Road, Zhao Lijun watched Zhang Zixian leave with a slight smile on his lips.

Tap tap tap, a series of soft footsteps sounded, and Xie Zhipan appeared behind Zhao Lijun.

"Stationmaster, we've dealt with Changmao. What about Zhang Zixian?"

Zhao Lijun put down his binoculars and said in a deep voice, "This man cannot die. We still need him to hold off the Japanese. Tell Grey Pigeon to go easy on him and lock him up. We'll release him in two or three days."

"Yes, Captain Xie, it's 2:21 now. We'll start our operation at 3:00. Have someone take care of those two guard dogs first."

"We'll work together on this mission. We'll complete it within ten minutes, eliminate Tang Shaoyi, and evacuate the Tang mansion."

"Yes," Xie Zhipan saluted...

3 PM, Tang Mansion.

Two figures dressed in long gowns appeared at the entrance of the Tang Mansion.

Zhao Lijun, who was walking in front, was holding a brocade box that was about 80 centimeters tall in his hands.

Xie Zhipan, half a step behind, moved with a deliberate restraint, like a leopard that had folded its claws.

The two stopped in front of the door, and Zhao Lijun's sharp eyes swept across the shadowy corner opposite.

There were two figures there with their heads drooping, as if they were asleep.

Xie Zhipan made a gesture indicating that everything was going well, and Zhao Lijun nodded slightly before stepping forward and knocking on the door.

With a creak, the gate to the Tang mansion opened, and the gatekeeper leaned out halfway, sizing up Zhao Lijun and Xie Zhipan.

"Excuse me, we were introduced by Boss Chang. We just came from Beiping. We heard that Mr. Tang is quite interested in antiques. We happen to have a rare piece that we would like to ask Mr. Tang to appraise."

The doorman hesitated for a moment, then relaxed slightly when he saw the box, which was about 80 centimeters tall, in Zhao Lijun's hand: "Please wait a moment, I'll go find Butler Tang."

"Alright, thank you for your trouble, brother," Zhao Lijun said nonchalantly, handing the other man a pack of Hademen cigarettes. In modern times, this would be equivalent to someone giving a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes to a doorman, who would naturally be beaming from ear to ear.

He hurriedly closed the door, but it reopened in less than two minutes.

An elderly man with his hair neatly combed and wearing a crisply starched dark blue long gown came out.

He bowed slightly, his face displaying the respect honed over many years: "How shall we address you, gentlemen?"

Zhao Lijun quickly cupped his hands and said, "No, no, my surname is Zhao, and this is my brother, surnamed Xie."

“We came from Beiping and just happened to find a treasure. The owner said it was a royal treasure that came from the Imperial Household Department. We would like to ask Mr. Tang to take a look at it.” As he spoke, Zhao Lijun opened the box in his hand halfway, revealing what looked like half a vase.

Tang De glanced at them, then at the vase in their hands, and slowly said, "Mr. Zhao, Mr. Xie, please come in..."

"Thank you, thank you so much..."

Tang De opened the gate of the Tang Mansion and led the two through the foyer with its smooth terrazzo floor tiles to a corridor.

The walls on both sides of the corridor are decorated with calligraphy and paintings. Light shines in through the high windows and is cut into slanted beams by the blinds. The air is filled with a faint scent of aged books and the subtle fragrance of expensive wood.

Tang De silently pushed open the heavy teak door to the study.

The light suddenly brightened. It was a spacious study with floor-to-ceiling dark teak bookshelves on all four walls, filled with heavy books.

A large rosewood desk was placed by the window, with writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones arranged in an orderly manner.

A gaunt old man with white hair and beard, dressed in a dark silk robe, stood with his back to the door, gazing out the window at the few sparse green bamboos in the courtyard.

Hearing the sound, he slowly turned around.

Tang De said respectfully, "Mr. Zhao, Mr. Xie, this is our master."

"Uncle Tang, I have long admired your name. I apologize for my impolite visit and hope you will forgive my lack of courtesy," Zhao Lijun said respectfully.

Tang Shaoyi did not respond; his gaze fell on the brocade box in Zhao Lijun's hand, revealing a hint of genuine interest.

Zhao immediately understood and quickly placed the brocade box on the desk: "I've heard that Master Tang is an expert in appreciating Song porcelain, especially the charm of official kilns."

"By chance, Mr. Zhao acquired a rare item, which he dared not keep to himself. He has come here to ask Elder Tang for his expertise and guidance."

As the two were talking, Xie Zhipan silently took half a step forward, his position naturally positioned between Tang Shaoyi and the study door, his gaze lowered, as if focused only on the brocade box.

Tang De stood silently inside the door, his hands folded in front of him, like a silent sculpture.

Zhao Lijun's finger movements were gentle and solemn, as if he were handling a rare treasure.

He untied the silk ribbon from the brocade box, opened the lid, and carefully took out the item inside, which was wrapped in bright yellow soft satin.

As you peel back the layers of soft satin, a vase with an antique and elegant shape, a clear and lustrous glaze like jade, and fine crackles like ice cracks are revealed in the soft light of the study.

The glaze was a clear, lustrous blue, like the sky after rain, with a gentle and understated feel. Several crackled lines on the bottle's surface meandered, as if they had captured the essence of history.

A genuine light instantly shone in Tang Shaoyi's eyes—the pure enthusiasm of a scholar encountering a rare treasure—temporarily overshadowing the vigilance brought on by the political vortex.

He leaned forward instinctively, his aged fingers slightly raised, as if wanting to touch the cool glaze.

"Northern Song Dynasty official kiln?"

"Hmm, the shape, the glaze, the crackle..."

At this moment, he was completely attracted by the vase in front of him, and involuntarily took another step forward, almost standing side by side with Zhao Lijun in front of the desk.

Bending down and tilting his head slightly to one side, Tang Shaoyi wanted to examine more clearly the subtle burn marks on the bottom of the bottle.

At this very moment…

Xie Zhipan, who had been silent like a shadow, suddenly unleashed his murderous intent.

His right hand darted swiftly into the wide sleeve of his long robe.

A cold glint, carrying the aura of death, instantly shattered the tranquility of the study…

(End of this chapter)