Hidden Radiance

Fog blanketed the Huangpu River. A Ford sedan was parked outside the gate of the South Manchuria Railway Shanghai office.

Lu Minghui pushed open the car door and strode up the steps. Two Japanese guards raised their rifles to stop him.

Lu Minghui pulled out Special Pass No. 76 and slapped it directly on the guard's chest. Without stopping, he walked straight through the corridor and pushed open the door to the office of the director of the South Manchuria Railway Investigation Office.

Zhong Xigong sat behind a large mahogany desk. He was wearing a sharp suit, a fountain pen in his hand, and was reviewing documents. Hearing the door being broken down, he looked up and his gaze fell on Lu Minghui.

"Director Lu." Zhongxi Gong put down his pen, his tone flat, "In the heavily guarded South Manchuria Railway Bureau, the reach of No. 76 has gone too far."

Lu Minghui walked to the desk, placed his hands on the surface, and leaned forward.

"Director Zhongxi," Lu Minghui looked directly into his eyes, "Half a ton of explosives was just discovered at the North Station. The Red Party is targeting the sealed carriages of today's military train."

Zhong Xigong's expression remained unchanged. He leaned back in his chair.

"The train has already departed. The inspection is the responsibility of the Special Higher Police. Director Lu has come to the wrong place."

"The investigation was incomplete." Lu Minghui lowered his voice. "The explosive charge was equipped with a timer. The Communist Party most likely placed a spare detonator under the train or in a hidden compartment. If the train explodes while traveling at high speed, the entire Zhejiang-Jiangxi Railway will be paralyzed."

The two looked at each other.

The sound of patrolling military police could be heard coming from the corridor outside the door.

Zhong Xigong did not respond immediately, but put the pen back on the pen holder.

Twenty-five carriages, a top-secret dispatch from the Army Headquarters. For him, a civilian official of the South Manchuria Railway, to order the train to stop was tantamount to gambling with his own future.

But what if the bomb is real?

The train was destroyed and the goods were lost, paralyzing the Zhejiang-Jiangxi Railway. When the Army Headquarters investigated, I, as the director of the South Manchuria Railway Investigation Office, could not shirk my responsibility.

"The military train has already passed Songjiang," Nakanishi said. "Without solid evidence, ordering the train to stop arbitrarily will result in the Army Headquarters directly holding the South Manchuria Railway Company accountable."

"If the bomb detonates in Jiaxing, the car will be destroyed and everyone will die." Lu Minghui remained unyielding. "Those held accountable won't just be the Army Headquarters, but also the Cabinet. Can Director Nakanishi bear that responsibility?"

Zhong Xigong's fingers rested on the telephone receiver. He didn't pick it up.

He stared at Lu Minghui's face for three seconds.

Then pick up the red hotline and dial the dispatch room.

"Order Train 03 to immediately stop at the nearest station, Fengjing Station. Train 04 to suspend departure." Zhong Xigong gave the order into the microphone. "Conduct a second bomb disposal test on the entire train. Do not start the train without my order."

He hung up the phone. Zhong Xigong looked at Lu Minghui.

"Director Lu, the train has stopped. If the bomb isn't found, I will personally hold Shinichi Nakajima accountable."

"Director Nakanishi is doing his job well, Section Chief Nakajima will understand." Lu Minghui straightened up, turned around and walked out of the office.

The door closed. The corridor was empty.

He didn't turn around. His steps quickened slightly compared to when he came.

Jiaxing.

Water mist pressed onto the river surface. The railway bridge spanned the wide river channel, its piers constructed of bluestone and cement, as solid as a bunker.

The bridge is not deserted. There is a guard post on both the east and west sides of the bridge, where two railway guards, armed with Type 38 rifles, patrol in a crisscross pattern every fifteen minutes.

9:40 AM. East guard post.

A man in a railway worker's uniform walked onto the bridge carrying a toolbox. He flashed his fully iron maintenance worker badge at the guard post.

"Dispatch room notification: Replace turnout bolts."

The line guard peeked out and glanced at his name tag. Then he looked behind him—another worker in the same uniform was carrying a crowbar.

"Hurry up, a car will be passing by in half an hour." The guard retreated to his post and continued to warm himself by the fire.

The two men walked to the middle of the bridge. The one in the lead squatted down and opened his toolbox. At the bottom of the box were wrenches and nuts. Lifting the lining revealed explosives wrapped in tarpaulin.

Without hesitation, he stuffed the explosives into the gap between the rail and the sleeper, wrapping the rope around it three times and securing it tightly. Another person, twenty meters away, repeated the same action at a second rail joint.

The lead wire was pulled down along the outside of the bridge railing and into the bushes next to the bridgehead.

Footsteps came from the direction of the guard post on the east side. The line guards came out, carrying guns, and walked across the bridge.

"Why isn't it done yet?"

"Right away." The leader stood up, dusted off his knees, and picked up his toolbox. The two walked back to the east side of the bridge, facing the guards.

As they passed the guard post, the man carrying the crowbar suddenly turned around and swung it horizontally. The metal struck the guard on the back of the head with a dull thud. He collapsed to the ground, his rifle falling into the grass outside the bridge railing.

The other one had already circled around to the west guard post. A swift stroke of the knife followed.

Ten seconds. The bridge surface is cleared.

The two climbed over the railing, slid down the maintenance ladder on the bridge pier to the riverbank, and crawled into the bushes.

"ignition."

Two matches were struck before the first one lit. The first was extinguished by the rising steam from the river. The fuse hissed, and sparks flew along the outside of the railing toward the two explosive charges.

The two covered their ears with their hands and buried their faces in the mud.

boom--

Two muffled thuds erupted almost simultaneously. The rails were ripped and snapped at the point of impact, the sleepers shattered into charred fragments, and two gashes appeared on the track surface. The twisted rails rose up, poking into the grayish-white mist.

The bridge piers remained unmoved. The bridge itself still lay across the river.

However, the 30-meter section of track was completely destroyed; the rails were broken and deformed, the ballast was blown away, and half of the roadbed collapsed. Any train that rushed onto it would derail and plunge into the river.

From the bushes, the officer in charge raised his head from the muddy water and glanced at the bridge.

Waved.

"withdraw."

Fengjing Station.

The first military train stopped beside the platform. A large number of Japanese military police searched back and forth under the train and at the junctions between the carriages.

The Japanese captain leading the team stood on the platform, his face anxious.

The communications soldier came running with a telegram in hand.

"Report! The railway tracks at Jiaxing Bridge ahead have been blown up by unidentified armed forces! The railway is disrupted!"

The captain grabbed the telegram and stared wide-eyed.

"Baka!"

The train stopped in Fengjing, its path blocked. The sealed carriages, filled with toxic bacteria, were completely trapped on the tracks.

Safe house on Avenue Joffre in the French Concession.

The transmitter indicator light flashed. Paper Kite, wearing headphones, placed his finger on the telegraph key.

Lu Minghui stood by the window, looking at the gray sky outside.

"Send an urgent, confidential telegram," Lu Minghui ordered.

The paper kite nodded, ready to take notes.

"First," Lu Minghui said rapidly, "it has been confirmed that the military train is carrying biological and chemical weapons from Unit 1644. The target is the Zhejiang-Jiangxi Airport."

The paper kite is tapped with fingers.

"Secondly, the Loyal and Patriotic Army has been used to blow up the railway tracks of Jiaxing Bridge. The military train is currently stuck at Fengjing Station. Coordinates: 30°53'N, 121°01'E."

Paper Kite's fingers paused as he tapped the key. The Loyal and Patriotic Army only obeyed Boss Dai's orders. Lu Minghui, a station chief, couldn't mobilize those soldiers.

But he didn't ask. He kept knocking.

"Third," Lu Minghui turned around, staring at Paper Kite's back, "a secret telegram was leaked last night, the Special Higher Police had made advance preparations at the North Station. There are Japanese spies infiltrating the Military Commission. This must be thoroughly investigated."

The kite's breathing became heavier. This telegram, once sent, signaled an impending earthquake for the General Staff.

"Fourth. The bridge piers are not destroyed, and the Japanese army will take at least twelve hours to repair the railway. The window for the military trains to remain stationed is extremely short. Please report this immediately and order the American bomber group at Quzhou Airport to carry out indiscriminate bombing of the military trains at Fengjing Station. This is extremely urgent."

The keystrokes of the telegraph keys rang out rapidly. Paper Kite finished typing the last character and took off his headphones.

Lu Minghui took the draft of the telegram, lit a match, and burned it.

No. 19, Luojiawan, Chongqing.

Dai Li sat behind a large desk. Two telegrams lay in front of him.

One of them was a secret telegram from last night, sent by Paper Kite.

The other one was just translated; it was also a special urgent telegram from Zhiyuan.

Wang Puchen stood to the side, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his head bowed.

Dai Li picked up the newly translated telegram, his gaze lingering on the five characters "Loyal and Righteous National Salvation Army".

"How could a mere Shanghai station chief command the Loyal and Patriotic Army to blow up a bridge?" Dai Li's voice turned cold.

Wang Puchen coughed. "Director, Mao Sen has the code for the emergency mobilization order."

Dai Li slammed the telegram on the table.

Zhiyuan had no military power, but Mao Sen did. Zhiyuan forced the train to stop, and Mao Sen ordered the bridge to be blown up. The two joined forces in Shanghai to defy orders, forcibly tearing a gap in the "routine sweep" assessed by the Military Commission's General Staff.

"There's something fishy going on in the Military Commission." Dai Li stood up and grabbed his military overcoat from the back of his chair.

The fact that the Special Higher Police had laid surveillance in advance proves that the coded telegram from last night was indeed leaked. This is no small matter.

"Director, what about the General Staff..." Wang Puchen asked.

"We won't go through the General Staff Headquarters." Dai Li put on his overcoat, strode towards the door, and said, "Prepare the car. We're going to the Huangshan official residence."

76 Jessfield Road.

When Lu Minghui entered the office, the phone on the desk was ringing.

He didn't answer it. He walked to the window, opened it, and lit a cigarette.

The military train at Fengjing Station is still stuck. The railway tracks at Jiaxing Bridge are broken. Mao Sen's telegram has been sent; the Loyal and Patriotic Army is retreating.

But the bridge piers did not collapse. The Japanese engineers only needed to lay temporary tracks, which would take at most twelve hours.

If Chongqing cannot mobilize US bombers within twelve hours, the military trains will still pass through.

The phone was still ringing.

Lu Minghui put a cigarette in his mouth, walked over, and answered the receiver.

"Stationmaster," Paper Kite's voice was extremely low, "Chongqing has replied."

"read."

The kite paused for a moment.

"The President has approved. Chennault's 23rd Fighter Group of the 14th Air Force is scrambling. Two hours later, precision bombing of Fengjing Station will commence. Shanghai Station, please provide ground guidance signals."

Lu Minghui took the cigarette out of his mouth.

Ash from between his fingers fell onto the table, spreading out in a small patch of grayish-white.

"Ground guidance," he repeated.

"Yes," said Paper Hawk. "Someone needs to light signal flares near Fengjing Station to mark the targets for the bomber group."

The sealed train carriages stopped at Fengjing Station. They were heavily guarded by Japanese troops.

Someone needs to sneak in and ignite a signal flare thirty seconds before the plane arrives.

Then the bombs fell.

"I'll go," said the kite.

Lu Minghui did not answer immediately.

Outside the window, the dark clouds hung low, casting a hazy gray glow over the entire Jessfield Road. The shadows of the plane trees were mostly swallowed by the mist, and the distant rooftops blurred into leaden streaks.

"No." Lu Minghui stubbed out his cigarette. "You're like a radio station; if you die, the connection is cut off. I'll make other arrangements."

He hung up the phone.

I stood there, staring at the ash on the table.

Two hours later. Fengjing Station. Signal flare.

He needed someone who could sneak into the heavily fortified Japanese territory alive.

Shanghai, Hongkou District, Meiji Government Office.

An underground evidence laboratory. The incandescent light is stark and harsh.

Nanzo Yunzi, wearing a white lab coat and a mask, stood in front of the lab table.

On the table were six explosive charges seized from the North Station. The canvas casings had been dismantled.

A Japanese military technical expert uses a dropper to apply a transparent reagent to black stains on the surface of a canvas.

When the reagent came into contact with the stain, it instantly emitted a faint blue light.

The expert looked up at Nanzao Yunzi.

"Section Chief," the expert said, removing his mask, "the test results are in. The stains on the canvas are engine oil. But we extracted high concentrations of magnesium powder and special phosphides from the engine oil."

Nanzo Yunzi accepted the test report.

"This is a unique formula for Noborito Research Institute's specialty inks," the expert added.

Specialty ink. The explosion at Warehouse No. 3 reduced half a ton of ink to ashes. Now, the recovered explosive charges bear remnants of this specialty ink.

Li Kaifeng detonated the ink. Did the Red Party go to the ruins and retrieve the ink-stained canvas to make explosives?

Nanzo Yunzi folded the report and held it in her hand.

She took off her white lab coat, turned, and walked out of the laboratory. Her military boots made a crisp sound on the concrete floor.

Back in her office, she walked to the window and opened the blinds.

My gaze passed over the layers of rooftops and landed in the direction of the French Concession.

Chengda Company. A detector box made from a discarded ink can. An explosive charge taken out of the box. Ink residue on the canvas.

A chain. Every link points to the same person.

Lu Minghui brought the explosives with him into the car.

Nanzo Yunzi turned around, about to grab the landline phone on the table, but the phone rang by itself. She didn't answer.

The bell rang three times and then stopped.

Nanzo Yunzi stared at the microphone. Her fingers hovered above the receiver, not falling.

The bell rang again.

She answered the call.

"Yunzi." Lu Minghui's voice came through the receiver, urgent. "Something's happened at Fengjing Station. The railway tracks on Jiaxing Bridge have been blown up, and the first military train is stranded."

Nanzo Yunzi held the receiver, her gaze fixed on the test report on the table.

"Mr. Minghui, what do you mean?"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"I suspect the explosives on the military train weren't thoroughly checked; a second check is needed." Lu Minghui's voice became more urgent. "Let's go together."

Nanzo Yunzi's thumb rubbed the threads on the edge of the receiver. Once, twice.

"Okay." Nanzo Yunzi gripped the receiver tightly. "When do we leave?"