Courtyard House: Home Alone

The door opened a crack, revealing half of an aged face. The old servant recognized Dai Yunong, his pupils contracted sharply, but he dared not utter a sound. He simply widened the crack in the door and bowed, stepping aside.

Several wintersweet bushes were growing in the courtyard, their buds just forming, their fragrance so pure it was almost chilling. A dim light shone through the paper windows of the main house, and a shadowy figure could be vaguely seen moving about, holding a brush, each stroke exuding composure.

Dai Yunong stopped under the eaves, took off his overcoat and handed it to the old servant, then straightened the collar of his Zhongshan suit. He suddenly remembered that on a similar winter night in 1935, Chen Gongshu personally killed Zhang Jingyao on the roof of the Six Nations Hotel.

At that time, he was thirty-six years old, the age when he was at the peak of his talent. After the shooting, he was able to calmly retreat from the sewers and appeared at the victory banquet at Tianjin Station the next day, drinking three cups of Fenjiu liquor without changing his expression.

"Brother Yu Nong, since you're here, why stand in the wind?"

A voice came from inside the door, not loud, but clearly cutting through the night. Dai Yunong pushed open the door and saw Chen Gongshu sitting at his desk, holding a wolf-hair brush in his hand. On the paper was half of the "Preface to the Orchid Pavilion Gathering," and the ink was still wet when he came to the line "Life and death are indeed momentous."

"Brother Gongshu, you have a refined taste."

"What else can a person under house arrest do besides write?"

Chen Gongshu didn't look up, his wrist hovering, drawing out the last stroke to an extremely long length. "We can't kill anyone else."

Dai Yunong walked to the desk and his gaze fell on the calligraphy. Chen Gongshu's calligraphy had strength, but it lacked its usual sharpness, as if something had dulled its edge. He suddenly noticed a celadon bowl on the corner of the desk, half-filled with leftover tea, the tea leaves sinking to the bottom and turning white from steeping.

"It's been a while, Brother Gongshu, you've lost weight."

"A broad mind leads to a plump body, a narrow mind leads to a thin body."

Chen Gongshu finally put down his pen and looked up. His temples were now streaked with gray, and the lines around his eyes were deeper, but his eyes were still bright, as bright as two deep wells, making it impossible to fathom their depths. "Brother Yu Nong's late-night visit surely isn't just to admire my calligraphy."

Dai Yunong took the bronze seal out of his pocket, placed it on the table, and gently pushed it in front of Chen Gongshu.

The seal gleamed warmly under the light, and the three characters "Beiping District" were engraved very deeply. There was a tiny scratch on the corner—it was from when Chen Gongshu fell on the platform of the train station when he retreated from Beiping in 1937.

Chen Gongshu's gaze remained fixed on the seal, without moving.

"The principal sent me," Dai Yunong said.

"Principal?" Chen Gongshu suddenly laughed, his voice slightly hoarse. "Does the principal still remember me?"

"Not only will I remember, I'll also use you."

Dai Yunong pulled up a chair and sat down. The chair was made of wicker and creaked when he sat on it. "A 'ghost' has appeared in Beiping. Have you heard of him, Brother Gongshu?"

Chen Gongshu tapped his fingertips lightly on the edge of the table, the rhythm of "Three Variations on Plum Blossom." "I've heard of it. Killing Japanese devils, killing traitors, killing so many that the North China Expeditionary Army lost five commanders."

He paused, then said, "Brother Yu Nong, do you know what I regret most these past two years?"

"What?"

"I regret that shot missed." Chen Gongshu's voice was soft, as if he were talking about something unrelated to himself. "Zeng Zhongming died for Wang Jingwei, and Wang Jingwei lived for the Japanese. If I had hit my target, the situation today might be different."

Dai Yunong did not respond. The study was silent for a moment, with only the fragrance of winter plum blossoms wafting in from outside the window.

"The principal wants 'Ghost'."

He finally spoke, "We need someone alive, capable, and able to serve the Party and the country. Brother Gongshu spent seven years in Beiping; his connections, informants, and undercover agents are still there. This matter cannot be accomplished without you."

Chen Gongshu picked up the seal and twirled it in his palm. The coldness of the bronze reminded him of the winter wind in Beiping, sharp as a knife, cutting painfully into his face.

He thought of the courtyard house and the woman in Nanluoguxiang, the antique shops in Liulichang, and the woman who sang drum songs in the Eight Great Hutongs—are they still there?

"What are the conditions?"

"Once it's done, 'Beiping District' will be returned to you." Dai Yunong took out another document from his pocket.

"Furthermore, according to the principal's written order, past transgressions will be forgiven. The assassination attempt on Wang Jingwei is now considered closed."

Chen Gongshu took the imperial edict, but without reading it, he folded it and tucked it into the *Zizhi Tongjian* (Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government) on his desk. On the title page of that book was a line he had written in pencil years ago: "Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated."

When do we set off?

"The day after tomorrow. A special plane will take you to Xi'an, and then you'll travel to Beiping." Dai Yunong stood up. "Xu Zheng is already in Beiping; he'll cooperate with you."

"Xu Zheng?" Chen Gongshu frowned slightly. "Those kids from the Linli class?"

"Third place in the Special Operations Division, your junior."

"I know him." Chen Gongshu picked up his pen again and added a seal to the calligraphy he had just seen. "I met him once in Beiping in 1937."

Back then, he was just a naive young man, learning to track targets from Zhao Lijun. He lost track of his target and wandered the alleyways for three hours.

Dai Yunong walked to the door, then stopped. "Brother Gongshu, there's one more thing."

"explain."

"The spokesperson for 'Ghost' is Tang Baolin of the Xingyi School. He's currently in charge of all external affairs in Beiping. Xu Zheng suffered at his hands. When you arrive in Beiping, the first person you need to figure out is this man."

Chen Gongshu paused, a drop of ink falling onto the paper, spreading into an ever-growing circle. "Tang Baolin, heh, an old acquaintance. This guy's got a tough ego; I didn't expect 'Ghost' to have taken a liking to him too."

Dai Yunong pushed open the door and went out. The night wind blew in, making the papers on the table rustle. Chen Gongshu did not get up to see him off, but simply pressed the copper seal against the corner of the "Preface to the Orchid Pavilion" and then spread out a new sheet of Xuan paper.

He wanted to write a new piece of calligraphy and take it to Beiping.

Outside the window, the fragrance of winter plum blossoms grew stronger. An old servant came in to refill the tea, and saw that four large characters had already been written on the new paper on the table, the strokes vigorous and powerful, completely different from the "Preface to the Orchid Pavilion" he had just written—

"Making a comeback".

The scene returns to Beiping. Early the next morning, when there were hardly any people on the empty streets, Xu Zheng arrived at the Tang residence with two of his men.

Last night, Xu Zheng contacted Boss Dai and was reprimanded. Eager to prove himself, he opened his eyes and led his men to the Tang residence, perfectly missing the telegram announcing the suspension of the operation. However, it was only a matter of time before he was captured.

The three men had barely entered the front courtyard of the Tang residence when Shi Tou and his men disarmed them and tied them up. They were then blindfolded and taken to the pharmaceutical factory. Throughout the entire ordeal, they didn't even get to see Old Master Tang.

Shi Tou locked the three men in three separate, unrelated dark rooms, instructed the guards to watch over them, and then returned to the Tang residence to report back.

Three days passed in the blink of an eye. During these days, Lin Yifan did not go anywhere. He spent his days laughing and playing with Yu Wenxiu and the others in the east courtyard, and occasionally teaching He Yuzhu some martial arts. He lived a carefree life.