Hidden Radiance

The night wind was cold in the French Concession.

The Ford sedan sped along the empty streets. Lu Minghui gripped the steering wheel with one hand, a half-smoked cigarette between his other.

Ah Bing's face lingered in my mind.

Shortbread, scratches, secret codes...

All correct.

But Ah Bing shouldn't have appeared at Yongchang Grocery Store.

Working underground, with no communication lines. Even if Old Zhao is recovering from serious injuries, his mind is definitely clear; he would never allow his successor to directly contact the shopkeeper.

This violates the discipline of underground workers.

The wheels rolled over a puddle of water, splashing water onto the chassis with a dull thud.

Moreover, Ah Bing said that Lao Zhao overheard the conversation between the Japanese next door. Safe House No. 2 in the French Concession had excellent soundproofing, and crucially, it was guarded by Gu Yunqiu's men.

Ah Bing is lying.

Or perhaps the person behind him is lying.

Then look at Gu Yunqiu. Landing at Wusongkou, water surface vigilance. This explanation is flawless.

One side says the special envoy is a front, and the real executor, "The Gardener," has arrived. The other side says the special envoy is traveling by water, and the train station is a trap.

The two pieces of information contradict each other.

Lu Minghui crumpled the half-smoked cigarette and threw it out the window.

We need to find the person codenamed "Gardener." Once Gardener shows up, it will be immediately clear who is real and who is fake.

But the gardener's affair remained unsolved, and the matter with Wang Puchen could not be delayed any longer. If the Military Intelligence Bureau's assassination attempt ran into Nakajima's trap, the entire operation would be lost.

The car turned into a dead end. Lu Minghui got out of the car, climbed over two brick walls, and landed in an abandoned monastery.

Moonlight streamed through the broken stained glass windows and fell onto the floor.

Wang Puchen stood in the shadow of the altar, a cigar in his hand. Paper Hawk stood on the second-floor staircase, his gun pointed at the ground.

"You're late," Wang Puchen said in a low voice.

"The intelligence has changed." Lu Minghui walked to the altar and said bluntly, "Tomorrow morning, there are three possible locations for the special envoy to get off the vehicle: the South Square, the North Square, or the Wusongkou Wharf."

Wang Puchen paused, his hand holding the cigar still.

"Ono has deployed a large force at the South Square," Lu Minghui said rapidly. "I'm in charge of the North Square. Wusongkou is the naval surface patrol zone."

Wang Puchen paused for two seconds, then put the cigar in his mouth without lighting it.

"Three locations, three plans," Wang Puchen sneered. "Nakajima is fishing. He doesn't even believe you."

"Of course he doesn't believe me," Lu Minghui said, looking at him. "He doesn't believe anyone."

Wang Puchen turned around and looked at the night sky outside the stained glass.

"The intelligence is too mixed, and it's hard to distinguish between truth and falsehood. The Military Intelligence Bureau's action team in Shanghai cannot afford to suffer losses." Wang Puchen spat out his cigar. "Tomorrow's operation is canceled. Everyone, silence."

"It cannot be cancelled." Lu Minghui stood firm.

Wang Puchen turned around abruptly, his eyes sharp: "Knowing it's a trap, you still want to jump in?"

"If you cancel, Nakajima will know I leaked the information." Lu Minghui stared intently at him. "The pocket in the South Square is empty, and I, as the security chief, become the prime suspect. If I die, your connection with No. 76 and the Mei Agency will be completely severed."

"Then what do you want?" Wang Puchen suppressed his anger. "To send men to their deaths in the South Square?"

"Yes. Send men to the South Square to die."

Lu Minghui's tone remained unchanged, as if he were not talking about a human life, but about an expense that needed to be paid.

The kite on the second floor moved slightly, and the muzzle of the gun rose half an inch.

"Are you teaching me how to do things?" Wang Puchen took a step closer, the bitter smell of his cigar wafting over with his breath, the two less than a foot apart.

"I'm teaching you how to maximize your profits." Lu Minghui didn't back down. "I need two snipers. The first one goes to the South Square. It doesn't matter if his marksmanship is a little bad, but he must be good at escaping and familiar with the terrain. He's only responsible for firing, making it look like an assassination, and drawing Ono's fire."

"Barefoot." Wang Puchen narrowed his eyes.

"Second sniper, go to the North Plaza," Lu Minghui continued. "I need your best man. His marksmanship must be absolutely accurate."

"Is the special envoy not in the South Square, but in the North Square?" Wang Puchen asked.

"Where the envoy is isn't important. Perhaps there isn't an envoy in any of the three places." Lu Minghui placed his hands on the altar. "What's important is that Nakajima needs to see the attack. He needs to see my reaction to the attack."

"Who is the sniper in the North Square targeting?" Wang Puchen stared at Lu Minghui.

"First shot, aim at the special envoy. Whether the person getting out of the car is the real special envoy or a double, miss him." Lu Minghui raised his hand, pointing to his left shoulder. "Second shot, aim at me."

No one speaks.

The wind blew in through the broken window, making the candlestick stand clang.

Wang Puchen's hand, holding the cigar, froze in mid-air. His lips bit down on the filter, his cheeks taut as if he wanted to chew the cigar to pieces and swallow it. He stared at Lu Minghui for a full half minute.

"You're crazy," Wang Puchen spat out those three words.

"I'm not crazy." Lu Minghui lowered his hand. "Someone has to bleed in this. If no one takes the bait, Nakajima will suspect his bait."

"If you miss, you'll die."

"That's why I want the best person from you." Lu Minghui turned his head and looked at the kite on the second floor. "He'll go."

The kite remained silent.

Wang Puchen took a match from his pocket and struck it. The light illuminated the wrinkles around his eyes. He lit a cigar, took a deep drag, and exhaled thick smoke onto Lu Minghui's face.

"Fire blanks in the South Square to lure away the military police. Then open fire in the North Square. The assassination attempt on the special envoy fails, but the head of the 76th Confidential Office is seriously wounded." Wang Puchen pondered this insane plan. "Lu Minghui, you've taken a huge gamble."

"Will you do it or not?" Lu Minghui only asked about the outcome.

Wang Puchen tapped the edge of the altar with his fingers, which were holding a cigar.

"Tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. North Square. High point number three, the clock tower." Wang Puchen turned and walked towards the back door. "Wear something warm."

The kite disappeared on the second floor.

Lu Minghui stood there, watching Wang Puchen leave.

He raised his hand and touched his left shoulder.

8:00 AM the following morning. Shanghai Railway Station.

Dark clouds loomed overhead, and the wind whipped up discarded newspapers from the ground, making them swirl around on the platform.

Lu Minghui, wearing a black trench coat, stood on the edge of the platform in the North Plaza. Lin Zhijiang and his team were scattered around, while Sun Yaozu's convoy was parked at the exit, its engines still running.

"Director Lu," Lin Zhijiang said, walking over and lowering his voice, "Over at the South Square, Ono-sama's military police have already set up a trap. Aren't we just standing here quietly, getting our backs sore?"

"Standing is better than lying down." Lu Minghui's gaze swept across the clock tower opposite. "If Captain Lin feels bored, he can go to the South Square to help Xiao Ye catch people."

Lin Zhijiang chuckled twice and retreated.

8:45.

A steam train, whistling its horn, slowly pulled into the station. White steam billowed out, obscuring the view.

Lu Minghui had his hands in his trench coat pockets.

He wore a thick wool vest under his trench coat, with two layers sewn onto the left shoulder. He altered it himself last night. The stitching was rough, and it made his ribs itch slightly.

8:50.

The car door opened. Two rows of heavily armed Japanese soldiers rushed off the vehicle and lined up on either side.

Then, a middle-aged man in a dark suit and top hat stepped out of the carriage. He kept his head down, walked very quickly, and was followed closely by four plainclothes bodyguards.

Lu Minghui went to meet him.

boom!

A muffled gunshot rang out from the direction of the South Square.

Chaos erupted instantly on the platform. Sirens blared everywhere.

"There's trouble to the south!" Lin Zhijiang shouted, drawing his gun.

"Lin Zhijiang, take your men and guard all the exits! Sun Yaozu, bring the car over here!" Lu Minghui shouted the order, drawing his Browning pistol and rushing towards the man in the suit.

The man in the suit quickened his pace, protected by bodyguards.

Lu Minghui's gaze swept across the clock tower opposite.

Nine o'clock sharp.

A faint reflection flashed through the gaps in the shutters at the top of the clock tower.

Lu Minghui lunged at the man in the suit.

boom!

A second shot rang out.

The bullet grazed the top hat of the man in the suit, shattering a "GG" sign behind him. Glass shards exploded.

"Sniper! Take cover!" Lu Minghui roared, shoving the man in the suit against the back of the luggage cart.

He knelt on the ground, blocking the man in the suit, his left shoulder exposed outside the cover, the muzzle of his gun pointed towards the clock tower.

On the clock tower, the crosshairs of the kite caught on Lu Minghui's left shoulder.

The index finger is on the trigger.

Lu Minghui looked at the clock tower without looking away.

boom!