Courtyard House: Home Alone

"The Military Intelligence Bureau has its own 'ghost' agents," Lin Yifan interrupted him. "You only need to agree to one condition."

"What are the conditions?"

"From this day forward, Chen Gongshu, your gun will only be pointed at three types of people."

Lin Yifan held up one finger, "Japanese invaders."

The second one reads, "Traitor to the country."

The third speaker paused, "And then there are the parasites who prey on the people and profit from the national crisis. It doesn't matter if they're wearing the skin of a puppet army or the uniform of the Party-state."

Chen Gongshu's pupils contracted again. This third point was like a knife, stabbing directly into the most hidden festering sore of the Military Intelligence Bureau.

He thought of the trading company run by the bureau chief's relative by marriage, the antiques and paintings of unknown origin in Dai's mansion, and the traitors' property that mysteriously disappeared after each "sanction" operation.

"Chen…" He swallowed hard. "Chen has been with the Military Intelligence Bureau for ten years and knows many secrets. If I defect, how could Dai Yunong allow me to live?"

"So you have to choose the 'ghost' yourself."

Lin Yifan's voice suddenly softened, "Dai Yunong knows Ghost's methods better than anyone else. If you make your decision, Chen Gongshu will disappear, disappearing into Beiping under Ghost's control."

That way, you can appear as someone else. Even if you stand right in front of Dai Yunong, he won't recognize you. As for others, I know not many people will truly know you; you just need to be a little careful.

Chen Gongshu's knuckles turned white as his hand, gripping the empty gun, slowly fell to his sides. The ashes in the fireplace finally cooled, leaving only a wisp of smoke that meandered upwards and dissipated among the beams.

"Disappear..." He murmured the word, then suddenly chuckled, a laugh tinged with the weariness accumulated over ten years of military intelligence service. "Young Master Lin, do you know that what I, Chen, am best at in this life is disappearing? Tracking, infiltration, assassination—making someone vanish from this world without a trace—these are my specialties."

He raised his head, his gaze meeting Lin Yifan's for the first time: "But now, it is I who am about to disappear."

"Station Chief Chen's skills are superb, and that's exactly what 'Ghost' valued."

Lin Yifan got off the daybed and looked at Chen Gongshu: "Alright, go back to the backyard next door and give me a reply as soon as possible. The day after tomorrow is the first day of the Lunar New Year, and I hope to hear good news."

Chen Gongshu stood up from his chair: "Then..."

"I've already returned the bullets to you. They're useless to me. Even if I gave them to you, they wouldn't be of any use to me. If you don't believe me, you can draw your gun and try it now," Lin Yifan said coldly, looking at him.

Chen Gongshu's hand hovered above the gun handle, his knuckles trembling slightly.

He slowly drew his Browning, the metal scraping against the leather with a soft clatter. The magazine felt familiar, like his own flesh and blood—full. The crisp click of a bullet being chambered echoed clearly in the quiet room. The spare magazine at his waist hung heavy with its own weight.

"Good tactic." He finally uttered only these three words, his voice hoarse with a sense of resignation.

Lin Yifan had already sat back on the daybed and brewed another pot of hot tea. In the rising steam, his face was blurred like a faded painting: "Station Chief Chen, I'm not showing off. 'Ghost' always gets things done in a way that commands respect."

What if I am not convinced?

"What's lying here now is a corpse."

Lin Yifan's tone was as calm as if he were discussing the weather, "But 'Ghost' investigated you. In 1937, you covered the evacuation of a group of students in Tianjin; in 1939, you personally executed your uncle who was a traitor; last year, you withheld 30% of the funds for the Hanoi operation and sent it to the families of the fallen brothers."

Chen Gongshu's shoulders trembled slightly. These matters were not even in the Military Intelligence Bureau's files.

"Dai Yunong didn't know,"

Lin Yifan took a sip of tea. "But 'Ghost' knows. So we're willing to take this gamble—gambling that deep down, Chen Gongshu, you're still a Chinese person who wants to kill the Japanese and protect the people."

In his past life, Chen Gongshu, due to a personal feud with Dai Yunong, ultimately betrayed his cause in Shanghai and joined the 76th Division. In this timeline, Lin Yifan will not allow such a thing to happen.

Because, in his previous life, Chen Gongshu personally carried out more than two hundred assassinations against Japanese soldiers and traitors before his betrayal.

With a success rate exceeding 80%, this top-notch agent, who struck fear into the hearts of the Japanese and their collaborators on the enemy's rear battlefields, ultimately chose the path of defection to the enemy due to infighting and personal grudges within the Military Intelligence Bureau.

"Chen..." Chen Gongshu's voice was somewhat hoarse, "Chen needs to think about it."

"Think about it."

Lin Yifan put down his teacup. "But not for too long. There are plenty of people in Beiping who want to kill the Japanese, and 'Ghost' doesn't need you. What we lack is someone who understands the methods of the Military Intelligence Bureau and is willing to point their guns at the real enemy."

Chen Gongshu turned and walked towards the door, pausing at the threshold. He didn't turn back, but whispered, "Young Master Lin, that Asaka Palace... was it really execution by slow slicing?"

"To be cut into a thousand pieces, not a single cut will be spared."

Lin Yifan's voice came from behind, "At Caishikou, three layers of people surrounded the execution ground. With each cut, ten thousand cheered. The last cut was one I personally handed over."

Chen Gongshu closed his eyes. He recalled the news that had been relayed through various channels when Nanjing fell, and the deliberately downplayed photos he had seen in the internal archives of the Military Intelligence Bureau.

Three hundred thousand people. This number, which was once just a symbol on paper, now resonated in his ears with the cheers of the three layers of people at Caishikou.

He stepped across the threshold, a gust of cold wind hitting his face. The moon gate leading to the backyard next door was ajar. Long Xiaoni was sitting in a chair. Seeing him return, she quickly stood up and said softly, "I can't cook, but I've already asked Xiaolan to stew a chicken. I'll bring it over when it's ready."

Just now, I had my maid bring over five chickens, two geese, a pig's hind leg, and two jars of ten-jin Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor). You just stay here with me for a few days. If there's anything else, we can talk about it after the New Year.

"Xiao Ni, thank you for your trouble." He forced a smile and sat down by the stove.

The door to the west room was open, and you could vaguely see a brand-new cotton quilt on the kang (a heated brick bed), with a blue background and white flowers, which was the most common style in Beiping (Beijing).

"You like things clean," Long Xiaoni said, following behind him. "I specially changed the mattress. There's hot water in the kitchen. After you eat, wash up and get a good night's sleep. You probably haven't had a proper rest these past few days."

"Xiao Ni, since coming here, I feel like I've returned to the human world."

Chen Gongshu's voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something. He reached out and tested the temperature above the stove wall; the charcoal fire was blazing, making his palms hot. This heat was real and tangible, completely different from the perpetually cold office at the Military Intelligence Bureau headquarters.

Long Xiaoni didn't reply, but instead took out a set of coarse cloth clothes from the cupboard, folded them neatly, and placed them on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed): "This was left at home by Jiaxing. He's about your size, so you can make do with it for now."

Chen Gongshu nodded, then turned to look at Long Xiaoni: "Is that person really only eight years old?"