Hidden Radiance

A rainy night. A Ford sedan is parked on the corner of Fort Kelsen Road.

The engine stalled.

Lu Minghui opened his eyes. The left side of his body was numb, and blood dripped from the hem of his clothes onto the floor mat, forming a dark red puddle.

"Get out of the car." His voice was hoarse, his right hand gripping the Browning, the muzzle of the gun hanging by his leg.

Gu Yunqiu looked at him and said, "In your current condition, you can't take more than ten steps."

"Go to the phone booth across the street and wait for me for ten minutes." Lu Minghui didn't waste any words.

Gu Yunqiu pushed open the car door and got out. Her high heels waded into the puddle, and she opened a black umbrella and walked across the street.

Lu Minghui pushed open the passenger door. A gust of cold air rushed into his collar, making him shiver.

He bit his tongue, using the stinging pain to force himself to stay awake, and stumbled into a narrow alley.

The back door of Yongchang Grocery Store.

Lu Minghui bent his fingers and knocked three times on the wooden door, paused, and then knocked twice more.

The bolt was pulled open. The shopkeeper stood behind the door, holding a Mauser pistol.

Upon seeing Lu Minghui covered in blood, the shopkeeper pulled him into the backyard and locked the wooden door behind him.

"How did it get like this?" The shopkeeper grabbed his right arm and led him toward the main room.

"Two things." Lu Minghui leaned back on the bench and pulled open his trench coat.

The gauze on his left shoulder was tattered and seeping black blood.

The shopkeeper lit a kerosene lamp, dimming the flame as it would go. He then took out a pair of scissors and some gauze.

"Don't move."

The shopkeeper ignored him and the scissors had already cut the old gauze.

Lu Minghui gripped the edge of the bench tightly with his right hand, splinters digging into his palm. Large beads of cold sweat poured down his forehead.

Iodine was poured onto the exposed wound. Lu Minghui's back arched, and the back of his head slammed against the wall, knocking off a piece of plaster. He bit his lip until it bled, but he didn't make a sound.

"You say what you want to say." The shopkeeper took out the sheep gut thread, his hands still moving.

Lu Minghui clenched his teeth.

"The first thing to do is to confirm whether the people at 342 Avenue Joffre are members of the guerrillas."

"The second thing is to confirm whether Lu Xuzhang, the general manager of Guangda Huaxing, is one of our own, or whether he is working for us."

Lu Minghui was panting heavily, his voice broken, "After confirming the results, the message was sent to the hospital, still using the 'Old Knife' brand cigarettes as the code."

The shopkeeper tied a knot and cut the sutures. "Your injury can't be delayed any longer; you need to go to the hospital for a blood transfusion."

Ten minutes later.

Lu Minghui, cigarette in hand, walked out of the alley. His face was pale, but his steps were steady.

Gu Yunqiu stood by the phone booth. Seeing Lu Minghui walk over, she glanced at the cigarette pack in his hand for a moment before opening the car door.

"Back to the hospital." Lu Minghui got into the passenger seat and leaned his head back.

Gu Yunqiu started the car. The Ford sedan disappeared into the rain.

76 Jessfield Road.

Li Shiqun's office was filled with smoke.

Lin Zhijiang placed a blue-covered codebook on his desk.

"Director, this is the codebook that Lu Minghui seized from the Red Party last month."

Li Shiqun picked up the codebook, flipped through two pages, and tossed it onto the table.

"nice one."

Li Shiqun sneered, took out a blank telegram from the drawer, and picked up a pen.

"Lu Minghui staged a ruse at the train station to gain Nakajima's trust. What if Nakajima knew that this ruse was orchestrated by Lu Minghui and the Communist Party?"

Lin Zhijiang's eyes lit up: "Does the director mean to forge a secret telegram from the Red Party?"

Li Shiqun lowered his head to write. The pen tip made a scratching sound as it traced lines on the paper.

"The train station operation was a success. The target has been dealt with. Comrade Lu is expected to continue his undercover work." Li Shiqun read the words on the paper. "Translate it into a coded message and use this codebook as a reference. I want this telegram on Nakajima Shinichi's desk first thing tomorrow morning."

Lin Zhijiang took the telegram, glanced at the text, and paused his fingertip on the words "Comrade Lu".

"Director, wouldn't using your real name be too obvious? Don't underground radio stations all use code names?"

"You can find his code name?" Li Shiqun asked without looking up. "I can't find it either. But Nakajima can't either. When he saw the words 'Comrade Lu,' his first reaction was anger, not scrutiny. By the time he calmed down and tried to verify it, Lu Minghui was already sitting in the interrogation chair."

Li Shiqun opened the codebook, pressed his thumb on the title page, and said, "The codebook is real, the frequency band is real, and the decoded words match. That's enough."

Lin Zhijiang took half a step forward. "What about Director Shao..."

"Any news about the three men Shao Shijun sent to the French Concession to kill Lu Minghui?" Li Shiqun asked.

"Not yet. The rain is probably too heavy, causing a delay."

Li Shiqun waved his hand. "As expected of someone from the underworld, only capable of low-level tricks."

The following morning.

Special care ward, Japanese naval hospital.

Lu Minghui lay in the hospital bed. His left arm was back in a cast. He had lost too much blood last night, and now he didn't even have the strength to lift his right hand.

The ward door was pushed open.

Shinichi Nakajima, dressed in military uniform, strode in. Li Shiqun followed behind him.

Li Shiqun was clutching a file folder in his hand, and his steps were a beat slower than usual.

"Minghui, how are you feeling?" Nakajima walked to the bedside and looked down at him. His eyes no longer held their usual gentleness, but instead revealed a coldness.

"He won't die." Lu Minghui looked at Nakajima, then glanced at Li Shiqun. "The section chief brought Director Li here, not to visit him in the hospital, right?"

Nakajima turned to look at Li Shiqun. "Director Li, show what you brought to Director Lu."

Li Shiqun stepped forward, pulled out a telegram and a blue-covered codebook from the file folder, and placed them on the bedside table.

"Brother Lu, I'm so sorry." Li Shiqun sighed, looking heartbroken. "Last night, the Telecommunications Department intercepted a coded telegram sent by the Red Party to the Shanghai station. It was intercepted from the emergency backup channel, and the message used this Group C backup codebook. The Red Party probably doesn't know that this backup codebook has been exposed. The translated text is truly chilling."

Lu Minghui didn't look at the telegram, but at Li Shiqun. "Read it."

Li Shiqun picked up the telegram and cleared his throat.

"The operation at the train station was a success. The target has been dealt with. We hope Comrade Lu will continue to cooperate with our covert operations."

Three drops of medicine dripped from the IV line. There was no other sound.

Li Shiqun stared at Lu Minghui's face.

Lu Minghui laughed. The laughter aggravated the wound on his left shoulder, causing him to furrow his brow but not quite close his mouth.

"Director Li, did you translate this telegram yourself?" Lu Minghui asked.

"It was translated by the Telecommunications Department. The original code and the translation are both here, and they match." Li Shiqun pushed the telegram paper over.

Lu Minghui picked up the paper with his right hand, glanced at it, and threw it back on the table.

"Comrade Lu?" Lu Minghui repeated the three words, then turned to look at Nakajima. "Section Chief, there's an ironclad rule in the Red Party's underground radio broadcasts—real names and titles must never appear in the messages. Everyone uses code names, not even their gender. The same applies to emergency channels; the more urgent the situation, the less you can reveal your identity. This telegram directly says 'Comrade Lu,' the person who drafted it doesn't even know the Red Party's telegraphic procedures."

He paused for a moment.

"Besides, I personally seized this codebook last month. I entrusted such important evidence to 76 for safekeeping." Lu Minghui turned to look at Li Shiqun, "Director Li, is this how you use it?"

The smile on Li Shiqun's face froze.

Nakajima's gaze shifted from Lu Minghui's face to Li Shiqun. He slowly flipped his hand, which was resting on his knee, over and over again.

Snapped!

Nakajima slapped the telegram at Li Shiqun’s face.

Li Shiqun stiffened. His gaze swept from Nakajima's face to Lu Minghui's, his lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

"Li Shiqun." Nakajima didn't raise his voice, but instead lowered it even further. "Trying to fool me with a forged telegram. What are you trying to do? Use me to get rid of a meritorious official of the Empire?"

The voice wasn't loud. Every word could be heard clearly in the ward.

Li Shiqun's face was ashen, his lips were pressed into a thin line, and his lower back was taut.

"Section Chief, please calm down! This...this must be a mistake by the telecommunications department! I had no idea!"

"Get out," Nakajima said, pointing to the door.

Li Shiqun grabbed the file folder on the table, lowered his head, and left the ward.

The door closed.

The ward fell silent again.

The anger on Nakajima's face subsided. He pulled up a chair and sat down on the edge of the bed. He took a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hands.

"Li Shiqun is getting anxious." Nakajima stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket. "He thinks he can use Shao Shijun's influence to kick you out of the Sugi Project."

"Just a clown jumping around." Lu Minghui leaned back on the pillow, his tone indifferent.

Nakajima looked at him.

"Minghui, where did you go last night?" Nakajima suddenly asked.

Lu Minghui didn't lift his eyelids, his right hand resting on the blanket, his fingers loosely dangling. "Go see Lu Xuzhang. Snatch him from the clutches of No. 76, find an abandoned warehouse, and force him to submit. Then my wound reopened, and Gu Yunqiu brought me back."

Nakajima nodded. He took a brown paper envelope from his briefcase and tossed it onto Lu Minghui's lap.

"Shao Shijun brought three top assassins from Nanjing. Last night, your target was you." Nakajima's voice was flat.

Lu Minghui opened the envelope with his right hand. Inside were three black and white photographs.

Three men in black raincoats lay in the mud. Each of them had a bloody hole between their eyebrows.

The background of the photo is the phone booth at the corner of Ferguson Road.

Lu Minghui paused for a moment while holding the photo.

Last night, Gu Yunqiu stood next to that phone booth.

Three people died before the shooting was fired.

Who did it?

The shopkeeper wouldn't lift a finger. A paper kite? A Bing? Gu Yunqiu?

"These three people died on Fürth Road. Less than fifty meters from where you parked." Nakajima leaned closer, staring intently into Lu Minghui's eyes. "The military police found the bodies this morning. Minghui, you're tough. Tough enough that someone was secretly clearing the way for you."

Lu Minghui stuffed the photo back into the envelope and tossed it onto the bedside table.

"Does the section chief think it was my men who did it?" Lu Minghui met Nakajima's gaze. "All I have are those useless pens in the Confidential Affairs Department. If I had someone that skilled, I would have shot Shao Shijun in the backyard of No. 76 last night. Why would I have gotten soaked myself?"

Nakajima looked at him for a moment, then stood up.

"No matter who did it, Shao Shijun has lost three good dogs, and he'll hold you accountable for that." Nakajima straightened his uniform. "Now that Lu Xuzhang has surrendered, hurry up with Hu Juewen. The Sugi Project must be pushed forward as soon as possible."

"clear."

Nakajima turned and walked towards the door. He opened the door.

"Minghui." Nakajima stopped but didn't turn around. "If you want to buy cigarettes, just ask anyone to go."

Lu Minghui tilted his head. "That's my informant. I can't spend all my time looking for information in files."

The door closed.

Lu Minghui stared at the closed door.

Buying cigarettes. Yongchang Grocery Store.

His right hand gripped the bed sheet tightly, his knuckles turning white. He clenched it for a few seconds, then released it.

He placed the three photos side by side on the bed and compared them one by one between the bullet holes.

Three shots, three between the eyebrows. There was no second shot.

There was a knock on the door outside the ward.

Gu Yunqiu pushed open the door and walked in, carrying a fruit basket.

"Commander Lu, would you like an apple?" She walked to the bedside and put down the fruit basket.

Lu Minghui looked at her. His gaze fell on her hand holding the apple. Calluses had formed on the back of her hand, hard and a shade darker than the surrounding skin.

"Did you hear gunshots in the phone booth last night?" Lu Minghui asked.

Gu Yunqiu picked up a fruit knife and peeled the apple. The peel hung down from the blade, long and thin, spiraling downwards without breaking. "The rain was too heavy, and the thunder was too loud. I didn't hear anything."

The fruit peel twirled down and landed on the edge of the trash can without falling in.

"Really?" Lu Minghui withdrew his gaze. "It seems Shanghai really does get a lot of rain."