Hidden Radiance

Morning, No. 76, third floor.

Gu Yunqiu pushed open the office door but did not step in immediately.

My gaze passed over the glasses and landed on the desk. The pen was still in its place. The desk mat was untouched. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

She walked over and pulled open the second drawer on the right.

The extremely short black cotton thread was gone from the gap in the drawer. The order in which the documents were stacked remained the same, but a tiny speck of cigarette ash clung to the corner of the top file.

Someone came in.

Gu Yunqiu picked up the bit of cigarette ash with her fingertips, rubbed it, and found it to be a yellowish-gray color. She put the ash into a small paper bag and closed the drawer.

I walked to the window and opened the blinds.

In the courtyard, Li Shiqun's Chevrolet sedan sat quietly. Two thugs from the action team leaned against the car, smoking and chatting.

It's too quiet.

Yesterday on Qingyun Road in Zhabei, she led her men and drew their guns against the No. 76 SWAT team. Given Li Shiqun's temperament, he will undoubtedly put pressure on her this morning through Section Chief Nakajima or the Nanjing authorities.

But no. Li Shiqun didn't even ask.

Gu Yunqiu turned around and quickly walked out of the office.

Underground interrogation room.

Old Zhao was tied to the rack, his head hanging low, his breathing heavy.

Gu Yunqiu stood in front of him and stared at him for two seconds.

"Put him down."

The South Manchuria Railway agent standing nearby paused for a moment, then said, "Secretary Gu, this…"

"Find a death row inmate of similar build. Smash his face, put this outfit on him, and tie him up and take him back." Gu Yunqiu spoke rapidly. "Immediately and secretly transfer this person to Safe House No. 2 in the Meiji Agency's French Concession. Apart from the two of you, if anyone asks, say he's still at No. 76."

"Yes, sir!" the agent replied immediately.

Gu Yunqiu watched as Lao Zhao was dragged away, her eyes filled with coldness.

Li Shiqun didn't make trouble because he had other plans. This basement was no longer safe.

Night falls. No. 76 compound.

The searchlight swept back and forth.

Lu Minghui sat in his third-floor office, the lights off. The curtains were slightly ajar, revealing the commotion in the courtyard. On the table sat the pocket watch, its second hand ticking away.

It was exactly 11 p.m.

Snapped.

All the lights in No. 76 went out instantly. The compound was plunged into darkness. There were no alarms. The backup generator did not start.

Lu Minghui remained motionless in the darkness. The luminous hands of his pocket watch had just passed 11:01.

Three black sedans without license plates slammed into the iron gate of the backyard. The tires screeched as they rolled over the broken glass.

The car door opened, and more than twenty men dressed in black jackets poured out, carrying Thompson submachine guns. Without saying a word, they headed straight for the basement entrance.

She Aizhen sat in the passenger seat of the first car, a cigarette dangling from her mouth, and did not get out.

Two hidden sentries from the South Manchuria Railway Company peeked out from the basement entrance.

Da da da—

The submachine gun swept across, and the two men fell to the ground.

Two smoke bombs were thrown by the Green Gang thugs, filling the corridor with thick smoke. The iron door to the interrogation room was kicked open, and the thugs rushed in, cutting the ropes and carrying the mangled body from the rack as they ran out, not caring whether the body was dead or alive.

It took less than three minutes in total.

"withdraw!"

They stuffed the man into the trunk and jumped into the car. Before the South Manchuria Railway agents could catch up, the three cars roared out of No. 76 and disappeared into the night.

Lu Minghui watched the taillights disappear into the distance from the third-floor window, closed his pocket watch, and put it in his pocket.

On the edge of the French Concession, on the eastern section of Avenue Joffre.

The rain has stopped, but the road is slippery.

Three cars belonging to the Green Gang sped past.

A garbage truck was parked at the intersection, blocking half the road. The driver of the lead truck was honking his horn frantically and swerving the steering wheel sharply.

boom!

The lead vehicle's right front tire ran over a wooden plank with long nails, causing the tire to burst instantly. The vehicle lurched to a stop at an angle on the side of the road. The two vehicles behind it braked sharply.

Several Green Gang thugs got out of the car cursing and stood guard with their guns at the ready.

"What's going on?" She Aizhen rolled down the car window.

"Ma'am, I have a flat tire. There's a garbage truck blocking the way."

"Change the tire! Quickly!"

In the shadows by the roadside, a drunkard in a tattered long robe staggered over. He carried a bottle of liquor in his hand and hummed an unknown tune.

Owner of Yongchang Grocery Store.

He stumbled and fell right into the trunk of the second car.

"Get out of the way!" One of the thugs raised his gun butt and smashed it.

The shopkeeper rolled to the side, dodging the gun butt. The bottle in his hand smashed on the ground, shards of glass scattering everywhere.

"Oh my god..." the shopkeeper yelled, his hand digging twice into the gap in the trunk. Two long, one short.

A muffled groan came from the trunk.

The shopkeeper lay on the ground, his ear pressed against the car body, his nose close to the gap in the trunk.

The smell of blood. The smell of damp cotton.

It doesn't smell like tobacco.

Old Zhao was a heavy smoker; even if he didn't smoke for three days, the smell of cigarettes would linger on his body. This man, however, was impeccably clean.

It's not Lao Zhao!

"Someone's been killed..." The shopkeeper scrambled to his feet and stumbled into the alley next door.

The thugs didn't have time to chase after a drunkard; they quickly changed the tire.

The three cars restarted and headed towards the suburbs.

Deep in the alley, the shopkeeper watched the car taillights disappear into the distance. Two employees emerged from the shadows.

"Boss, aren't you going to do it?" the waiter asked.

"The person isn't right." The shopkeeper's voice was cold and hard. "Notify Old Ghost that the situation has changed, the rescue is canceled. Find out the whereabouts of the real Old Zhao."

An abandoned warehouse in the suburbs.

Li Shiqun stood under the gas lamp, his face ashen.

Sun Yaozu stood to the side, holding the basement defense map in his hand, barely daring to breathe.

The thugs from the two action teams untied the sacks and dumped the people inside onto the ground.

A bucket of cold water was poured on it.

The person on the ground twitched, and the blood on their face was washed away.

Li Shiqun stepped forward and used the tip of his leather shoe to lift the man's chin.

He recognized this man. He was a Kuomintang agent involved in the assassination of Ji Yuqing, whom he had personally arrested. He was imprisoned in the basement of No. 76, sentenced to death, but the sentence hadn't been carried out yet.

"Is this what you call foolproof?" Li Shiqun suddenly turned around and slapped Sun Yaozu across the face.

Snapped!

Sun Yaozu was so badly beaten that he spun halfway around on the spot before collapsing to his knees with a thud.

"Director! The diagram is real! The diagram is absolutely real!" Sun Yaozu covered his face, his voice trembling. "The positions of the sentries all match up. When the Green Gang went in, they didn't encounter any decent resistance at all!"

Li Shiqun gritted his teeth and stared at the death row inmate on the ground.

The picture is real. The sentry was correct. The Green Gang's prison break went extremely smoothly.

But the person is fake.

Someone else got there first, took the real item, and left the shell for him to snatch.

Li Shiqun squatted down, pulled out his gun from his waist, and pressed the muzzle against the condemned prisoner's forehead.

boom.

She got up, took out a handkerchief, and wiped the bloodstains splattered on her sleeve.

The drawing was stolen by Sun Yaozu from Gu Yunqiu's office. Gu Yunqiu had moved the prisoner beforehand. So, did Gu Yunqiu draw the drawing herself, or was it deliberately placed there for Sun Yaozu to steal?

He turned and glanced at Sun Yaozu.

Sun Yaozu knelt on the ground, his face covered in sweat, not daring to raise his head.

"Who gave you the map?" Li Shiqun asked in a low voice.

"I found it in Gu...Gu Yunqiu's office drawer. Director Lu said—" Before he could finish speaking, Sun Yaozu froze, his words stuck in his throat.

late.

"What did Director Lu say?" Li Shiqun repeated those four words.

He didn't hit anyone again. He put the cigar back in his mouth, his teeth grinding against the mouthpiece, his cheeks puffing out twice before deflating again.

Sun Yaozu's forehead hit the ground with a loud thud.

Li Shiqun folded the handkerchief and put it back in his pocket.

"Dispose of this body." Li Shiqun turned and got into the car. "Back to No. 76."

The next day, in the morning.

Number 76, Confidential Office.

Lu Minghui sat at his desk, reviewing the telegrams from the previous night.

The door was pushed open. Gu Yunqiu walked in, her jaw clenched, without uttering a single word of greeting.

"Secretary Gu, good morning." Lu Minghui didn't even look up. "I heard that No. 76 was burgled last night, and the basement was ransacked?"

Gu Yunqiu walked to the table, placed her hands on the surface, and looked down at him.

"Commander Lu is really well-informed."

"The power went out in the middle of the night, and gunfire erupted everywhere. It would be hard not to know." Lu Minghui closed his folder, looked up, and asked, "That Communist Party member we arrested, is he missing?"

"It's lost." Gu Yunqiu stared into his eyes. "A group of men in black, their methods clean and efficient, leaving no survivors. Commander Lu, do you think this is the style of the Red Party?"

"The Red Party has always been cunning and treacherous. Hiring gangsters to break people out of prison is not impossible." Lu Minghui picked up his teacup and blew on the floating leaves.

Gu Yunqiu pressed the corners of her mouth down.

"The Red Party has the capability to attack No. 76, but they won't wait until now."

She leaned forward, staring intently at Lu Minghui, her voice low.

"I'm more inclined to believe that someone within No. 76 didn't want me to uncover anything. For example, Director Li."

Lu Minghui took a sip of tea and put down the cup.

"Secretary Gu, you can't say things like that lightly. Director Li is the head of No. 76. Would he really break his own prison?"

"That's why I've come to ask Commander Lu for advice." Gu Yunqiu straightened up and crossed her arms. "The people who broke into the prison last night got what they wanted. But they'll soon find out it was just a fake."

Lu Minghui put his teacup back on the table, the bottom of the cup tapping against the glass countertop.

"A fake?"

Gu Yunqiu didn't reply immediately. She stared at Lu Minghui's face, scanning from his forehead to his chin.

three seconds.

Lu Minghui didn't urge him or ask any questions. He picked up the pen on the table, unscrewed the cap, and opened a new document. His movements were casual, as if he were waiting for something.

Gu Yunqiu withdrew her gaze.

"I felt the basement was damp last night, which wouldn't be good for the prisoner's wounds to heal. So I moved him ahead of schedule." A mocking smile played on his lips. "The one left there is a death row inmate."

Lu Minghui looked at her, holding the teacup, but not drinking from it.

"Secretary Gu's foresight is admirable." Lu Minghui nodded. "Since the person is still in your hands, let's interrogate him as soon as possible. Section Chief Nakajima is still waiting for the results."

Gu Yunqiu didn't reply. Her gaze no longer swept over his face, but instead fell on his hand resting on the table. The five fingers gripping the cup were evenly clenched and relaxed, and the nails were a normal pink.

There was nothing there.

The tea didn't even slosh around.

Gu Yunqiu withdrew her gaze.

"I'll find out." She turned and walked towards the door.

"Secretary Gu," Lu Minghui called out to her.

Gu Yunqiu turned around.

"Number 76 is full of people, factions, and intrigue. Don't tell anyone where he is." Lu Minghui picked up his pen. "If we get kidnapped again, we won't have that many death row inmates to exchange for."

"No need for Commander Lu to trouble himself."

Gu Yunqiu opened the door, walked out, and closed it behind her. The door lock clicked very softly.

Lu Minghui put down his pen, tapped his fingers twice on the table, and then stopped.

Gu Yunqiu reacted too quickly. Upon discovering the intrusion into the office, she moved everyone there that same day.

Li Shiqun, holding a fake in his hand, must have already realized what was going on. The picture was given to him by Sun Yaozu, but the person was a fake. Li Shiqun wouldn't believe this was a coincidence.

The real Lao Zhao is in Gu Yunqiu's hands.

The red dedicated phone on the table suddenly rang.

Lu Minghui stared at the phone for a second, then picked up the receiver.

"Minghui." Shinichi Nakajima's voice came through the receiver, carrying a rare hint of weariness.

"Section Chief."

"I heard about what happened at No. 76 last night." Nakajima's voice was deep. "Gu Yunqiu moved that coachman to Safe House No. 2 in the French Concession."

Nakajima told him the location directly.

Lu Minghui switched hands to hold the microphone, clenched his free right hand under the table for a moment, and then released it.

"Section Chief, Secretary Gu's actions seem to be overstepping her authority."

"No, I authorized it," Nakajima interrupted him. "That coachman is very important. I need you to go to Safe House Number Two tonight."

"To interrogate?"

"Go and silence them."

Nakajima pronounced those three words.

"Even if the driver doesn't spit out what's in his mouth, it's better than it falling into someone else's hands." Nakajima paused for two seconds. "I don't trust Gu Yunqiu."

The conversation ended there.

"Don't let Gu Yunqiu know about this. Keep it clean."

The phone hangs up.

The receiver was busy.

Lu Minghui slowly put down the microphone.

Gu Yunqiu wants to interrogate, while Nakajima wants to kill?

Lu Minghui opened the drawer, took out the Browning pistol, ejected the magazine, pulled out two bullets, and pushed it back in.

He tucked the gun back into his waistband, stood up, and walked toward the archives.