Hidden Radiance

The rain intensified.

In the mass graves on the outskirts of the French Concession, the soil, tainted with the stench of decay, churned in the cold rain.

Two South Manchuria Railway agents worked together to lift the sack and throw it into the shallow pit that had just been dug.

Mud splashed all over them. One of them spat, "These die-hards, just throw them in the suburbs to feed the dogs, why bother?"

"Alright, we've given the orders from above." The other man wiped the rain off his face and shoveled mud one shovelful at a time.

The mud mixed with rainwater quickly filled the shallow pit.

After hastily burying the body, the two drove away.

The taillights disappeared into the rain.

Several dark figures emerged from the bushes.

The shopkeeper picked up a shovel and quickly cleared away the loose soil.

The sack was cut open, revealing Old Zhao's face.

Pale white. His chest and back of his neck were covered in dark red bloodstains, remnants of a burst blood pack.

The shopkeeper probed the carotid artery with two fingers.

The pulse is weak, but present.

"Quick, take him to the clinic."

Two men lifted the stretcher and disappeared into the rainy night.

The shopkeeper turned around and dragged a corpse out from behind the bushes.

The nameless prisoner executed by the military police the day before yesterday was buried that very night next to this mass grave. When he was pulled out in the afternoon, his size and build were correct, but his face was swollen and deformed, and his features were unrecognizable.

He took out his Browning pistol and screwed on the silencer.

A bullet to the back of the neck.

A bullet to the chest.

Smear blood on the muzzle. Push the body into the pit, cover it with soil, and tamp it down.

The rain is getting heavier.

A car crashed through the rain and came to a stop on the side of the road.

Gu Yunqiu got out of the car, her leather boots still wet. The rotten smell in the air made her frown.

He grabbed a shovel and dug out the body in a few quick movements.

He was shot once in the back of the neck and once in the chest. The bullet hole locations and calibers are correct.

But the body was already stiff.

A person who has just died won't die that quickly.

Gu Yunqiu squatted in the mud, rainwater dripping down the brim of his hat and onto the corpse's face.

She stared at that face whose features were indistinguishable for a long time.

They pushed the body back into the pit and reburied it.

He stood up and patted the mud off his hands.

He glanced back in the direction of the safe house.

The lights had already been turned off.

Mei's office, section chief's office.

Nakajima changed into a kimono and sat on the tatami mats to brew tea. The light was dim, casting shadows on his face.

Gu Yunqiu stood at the door, soaking wet. The soles of her leather boots were covered in reddish-brown mud.

"Section Chief, he fired." Her voice was flat. "One shot in the back of the neck and one in the chest."

Nakajima looked up, his gaze lingering on her face for two seconds.

"Did you hesitate before firing?"

"No," Gu Yunqiu replied crisply. "He was inside for less than five minutes when two gunshots rang out, very close together."

Nakajima picked up his teacup and blew on it.

"You've worked hard. Go back and rest."

Gu Yunqiu turned and walked towards the door. She placed her hand on the doorframe and paused for a moment.

There was no turning back.

The door closed.

Nakajima sits alone in the tea room.

He put down his teacup and picked up the phone.

"Minghui, is it convenient for you to come over?"

After receiving a reply, Nakajima hung up the phone.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

Lu Minghui pushed open the door and came in, his whole body damp.

"I feel bad for calling my junior over so late." Nakajima pushed the tea he had poured over to him. "Sit down."

Lu Minghui sat down and accepted the teacup. The tea was emerald green, bitter at first, but with a sweet aftertaste.

"Is it a pity that we killed an important communicator of the Red Party?" Nakajima seemed to be chatting casually.

"Whether it's a pity or not is not important." Lu Minghui put down his teacup. "It's just that catching another one won't be so easy."

"Ono-kun has already sealed off the area; he can't escape." Nakajima took a sip of tea, put down his cup, and said in a somber tone, "That coachman is a minor matter. The real trouble is just beginning."

Lu Minghui did not respond.

"I agreed to your recommendation of She Aizhen and the reinstatement of Sun Yaozu." Nakajima stood up, walked to the map on the wall, and turned his back to him. "You think I was just doing this for your sake?"

The finger traces its path from the French Concession, across the International Settlement, over the Suzhou Creek, and encompasses the entire city of Shanghai.

"To deal with the Green Gang, only Green Gang members are the most effective. But the person I use must be someone I trust."

Nakajima turned around.

"Minghui, I need you to represent the Mei Agency and unify Shanghai. Gather all the forces that can be integrated, including gangs and chambers of commerce. What Li Shiqun couldn't do, you will do."

Lu Minghui held his teacup, his expression revealing just the right amount of embarrassment.

"Nakajima-kun, I'm just an office worker..."

"From now on, the forces of 76 and the Special Higher Police are at your disposal. If necessary, the Military Police Battalion will also be at your command, and Ono-kun will cooperate." Nakajima returned to his seat and slowly sat down. "Power, money, and people—I'll give them all to you."

He picked up the teacup and blew on it to cool it down.

"What is given out can also be taken back."

The tea room was quiet for a few seconds.

Nakajima took a document out of the safe and placed it on the table.

The cover is gray, with several Japanese characters printed on it: Sugi Project Draft.

"Project Sugi. Besides the chief and me, you're the third person who knows this name."

Lu Minghui looked at those words but didn't reach out.

"I'll take the job." He picked up his teacup and took a sip. "I won't look at the proposal. If you have any instructions, just tell me directly, Section Chief."

Nakajima stared at him.

Three seconds later, he laughed.

Put the documents back in the safe and lock it.

"Alright. The plan isn't finalized yet. We'll discuss it together once the special envoy from the Matsu Agency and the special representative from the Sugi Studio arrive."

Nakajima glanced at the clock on the wall. It was past eleven.

"Go back first. I'll arrange for you to meet a few people tomorrow."

Lu Minghui stood up, bowed, and went out the door.

The corridor was long. The sound of leather shoes clicking on the wooden floor was hollow.

The Ford sedan drove into the rainy night.

Lu Minghui turned the steering wheel with his right hand and adjusted the angle of the rearview mirror with his left.

Through the lens, a black sedan was slowly following behind, maintaining a distance of about ten meters.

It bit very hard.

He recognized the car.

Gu Yunqiu's.

Lu Minghui neither slowed down nor changed lanes. He turned the steering wheel half a turn to the left, aligning the front of the car with the direction of the Grand World.

Eleven o'clock at night is already very late for ordinary people, but it is the busiest time at the Grand World.

The neon lights drew a crimson glow from the rain curtain, and the puddles reflected the distorted light.

"Commander Lu, won't you buy me a drink?"

Lu Minghui had just ordered a drink at the counter when he heard Gu Yunqiu's voice.

"Secretary Gu is in a good mood," Lu Minghui replied casually, then said to the bartender, "Bring this young lady a drink."

The bartender asked Gu Yunqiu, "Miss, what would you like to drink?"

Gu Yunqiu smiled and said, "Whatever Commander Lu drinks, I'll drink too."

The bartender looked at Lu Minghui with suspicion; this officer was drinking strong liquor.

Lu Minghui tapped on the counter. "Do as she says."

Gu Yunqiu took the wine, a hint of amusement in her eyes: "Commander Lu, are you sure you want to drink here?"

Lu Minghui turned around and stared at Gu Yunqiu.

A full three seconds.

Turning to the bartender, he said, "Take us to the private room."

The bartender led the two to a private room.

Upon entering the private room, Lu Minghui casually tossed out two silver dollars and instructed the bartender, "No one is to disturb us without my permission."

The bartender quickly agreed.

As soon as the door closed, Gu Yunqiu didn't sit down. She first walked around the private room, her fingertips tracing the wall, pausing in front of the ventilation grille, and listening intently. Then she drew back the curtains and glanced out the window—a dead end, with no windows opposite.

She drew the curtains before leaning against the sofa armrest.

"Not going home so late at night, Commander Lu, is something on your mind?"

Lu Minghui put down his wine glass without replying.

"It's clear that Commander Lu isn't a big drinker." Gu Yunqiu swirled his glass but didn't drink. "I'm not a big drinker either."

Lu Minghui remained silent. He held a wine glass in his left hand and rested his right hand on his waist.

Gu Yunqiu looked at his hand on her waist, her smile undiminished.

"You are a member of the Red Party."

Three words, light and airy.

The singing from the stage outside drifted in through the door, muffled and strained.

Lu Minghui didn't move. He held the wine glass in his left hand, the rim of the glass to his lips, but didn't drink.

He put the wine glass back on the table.

He drew his gun and pointed it at Gu Yunqiu's forehead.

He didn't speak.

Gu Yunqiu stared at the gun barrel without backing away.

"I examined the body tonight," she said, emphasizing each word. "The rigor mortis wasn't right. That body wasn't your coachman."

Lu Minghui tightened his grip on the gun.

"In other words, Commander Lu fired two shots in the safe house tonight, killing someone who was already dead." Gu Yunqiu's gaze went past the gun barrel and fixed on his pupils. "You switched the body out alive."

Lu Minghui's gun did not deviate even slightly.

"Secretary Gu discovered something amiss with the body, but when he got back, he reported to Section Chief Nakajima that I had fired the gun." His voice deepened. "You didn't tell the truth either."

Gu Yunqiu's lips twitched slightly.

"That's right. I wasn't telling the truth," she said calmly. "Because we're on the same side."

There was a two-second silence in the private room.

Lu Minghui did not put away his gun.

"Without my secret signal, how did Old Ghost and his men get the switchboard password?" Gu Yunqiu took a step forward, the gun almost touching her forehead. "How did they manage to move twenty boxes of gold so easily? How did Old Zhao manage to survive until today?"

Lu Minghui stared at her.

The password—very few people know it.

That night at the vault, thirty elite soldiers from the South Manchuria Railway were lured to the east alley by Lao Gui and his men with a single password, leaving the vault's main entrance empty for a full twenty minutes. During those twenty minutes, Lao Zhao's men drove in a truck and took all the gold.

Not a coincidence.

Someone opened the door for them.

"Just for saying that, you should stay in interrogation room number 76." Lu Minghui did not remove his gun.

"Then shoot." Gu Yunqiu's gaze didn't waver. "This gun on my waist was handed to me by Nakajima tonight. He told me to keep an eye on you from the shadows—"

Lu Minghui's thumb rested on the hammer, without moving.

He glanced at the Nambu Type 14 pistol at her waist. That gun had been in Nakajima's hands yesterday.

What do you want?

Lu Minghui slowly holstered his pistol. Gu Yunqiu's words were credible, yet not entirely so. According to the information Old Zhao had previously relayed, Gu Yunqiu had been an adversary of Old Gui when he was with the South Manchuria Railway.

"Let's get one thing straight first." Lu Minghui didn't put the gun back in its place; he held it in his hand, letting it hang at his side. "You say you're a Communist, and Old Ghost is a Communist too. You—"

"We're not on the same line," Gu Yunqiu continued. "Single-line leadership, no one is subordinate to the other. He doesn't know me, and I don't know him. This gold operation exposed too much, so the higher-ups decided to connect the two lines."

They are not the same line.

Old Zhao belongs to one system, and Gu Yunqiu belongs to another. When she was fighting against Lao Gui at the South Manchuria Railway Company, neither of them knew they were fighting their own people.

Lu Minghui tucked the gun back into his waistband.

"Intelligence." Gu Yunqiu walked to the window, her back to him, "Intelligence regarding the Special Higher Police."

Lu Minghui placed his hand back on the table. "What I know, you know too. What I don't know, you still know."

"No, there's at least one thing I don't know." Gu Yunqiu turned around, "I don't know about the thing Nakajima told you tonight."