Hidden Radiance

Afternoon. Japanese Naval Hospital, intensive care unit.

Gu Yunqiu went to the Mei government office to retrieve some documents. Lu Minghui was the only person in the ward.

The cast on his left shoulder felt heavy. He leaned against the headboard, flipping through the draft of the Shan Project with his right hand.

There was a knock on the door. Two long knocks and one short one.

"Enter."

The door opened. Lu Xuzhang walked in, dressed in a sharp suit. The redness and swelling on one side of his face had subsided somewhat, and he was wearing a brand-new pair of gold-rimmed glasses. He carried a black briefcase.

He closed the door behind him and locked it.

My gaze swept around the ward: the curtains, the door lock, the clothes rack in the corner…

He walked to the bedside, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He unzipped his briefcase, took out a thick ledger, and placed it on the bedside table.

"Director Lu, the accounts for Guangda Huaxing's four inter-provincial channels have been settled." Lu Xuzhang's tone was calm, revealing no emotion.

Lu Minghui closed the draft, his gaze falling on the account book, but he didn't pick it up.

"Boss Lu is very efficient."

Lu Xuzhang didn't retract his hand; he tapped the account book cover twice with his knuckles.

"I checked the Citibank account that Director Lu left behind last night," Lu Xuzhang said, looking into Lu Minghui's eyes. "The last four digits are 0427. The bank is in the French Concession, but the flow of funds is very simple."

Lu Minghui rested his right hand on the blanket, his fingers curling slightly.

"Can't I cash out?"

"Yes, it is." Lu Xuzhang pushed up his glasses. "These days, accounts used for black market transactions aren't that pure. Unless, of course, it's a dead account specifically used for illicit funds."

Lu Xuzhang leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"This account is the backup transfer account of the Soviet Bank in Shanghai. Director Lu, aren't you getting a little too greedy?"

The ward was deathly silent.

Lu Minghui reached under the pillow with his right hand. He got the gun butt in his hand and pressed his thumb down on the hammer.

He looked at Lu Xuzhang.

Lu Xuzhang neither retreated nor reached for his weapon.

"The Yellow River's waters come from the sky," Lu Xuzhang uttered five words.

Lu Minghui paused, his hand gripping the gun still.

He pressed the butt of the gun against his palm for two seconds, then loosened his thumb slightly from the hammer before pressing it back down.

"The road to Shu is difficult, more difficult than ascending to heaven," he continued.

Lu Xuzhang's tense shoulders relaxed. He let out a long breath, took off his glasses, and rubbed his temples.

"Comrade Rouge." Lu Xuzhang put his glasses back on and extended his right hand. "Let's get to know each other again. I'm Old Ghost."

Lu Minghui pulled his hand out from under the pillow.

Old Ghost.

He extended his right hand and shook hands with Lu Xuzhang. He held it for two seconds, shook it slightly, used a little force, and then let go.

"Old Lu." Lu Minghui lowered his voice, the smile on his lips barely moving before fading away.

Lu Xuzhang glanced at him and nodded.

"You fired that shot at No. 76 last night, it was a close call. Such a reckless move could easily expose you."

"Nakajima has been eyeing you for a long time. Shao Shijun wants to take over your channels, and Li Shiqun wants to use you to curry favor with Nakajima." Lu Minghui leaned back against the headboard. "I had no other choice but to resort to this."

Lu Xuzhang nodded.

"Last night you forced me to hand over 30% of the profits from our covert operations and even made me mark the goods with the Mei Agency's logo. I knew something was wrong then. Traitors wouldn't go to such lengths for money, nor would they risk their lives. Until I saw that account."

"That account was a secret fund left by Lao Zhao, only he and I knew about it," Lu Minghui explained. "I used it to test you. If you don't recognize the account, you'll just think I'm greedy. But if you do—"

He didn't continue.

"The test has yielded results." Lu Xuzhang smiled, then his expression turned serious. "Now that we've made contact, there are some things I need to tell you."

He paused, glancing at the door lock and curtains of the ward.

"Wan Molin is also one of us, but he only handles some peripheral matters."

Lu Minghui moved his right hand off the blanket and gripped the edge of the plaster cast.

"Before Du Yuesheng went to Hong Kong, Wan Molin was already one of our peripheral comrades." Lu Xuzhang said in a very low voice, "The thirty-six men he hid on Xiafei Road were not thugs of the Green Gang. They were elite guerrillas sent from the Soviet area."

"For that batch of gold?" Lu Minghui immediately realized.

"Yes. The gold was too bulky and too conspicuous, so it had been hidden in the French Concession and couldn't be transported out." Lu Xuzhang nodded. "The guerrillas broke up into smaller groups and infiltrated Shanghai to pick up this batch of gold. But Ono kept the blockade in place, and without legal status, they couldn't move an inch."

Lu Minghui gripped his knee with his right hand and tapped his knuckles together repeatedly.

"So Wan Merlin's insistence on holding onto the dock is a way to buy time."

"Yes. But your move last night turned the tide." Lu Xuzhang looked at him. "You gave Wan Molin a special pass from the Mei Agency, so the guerrillas could put on the 76th Division's uniforms. The gold was mixed in with the Japanese supplies and transported directly out of Shanghai through the Mei Agency's open channels."

"This move is feasible," Lu Minghui decided, "but there are hidden dangers. Nakajima has already set his sights on Ferguson Road. Three assassins died in the phone booth last night, and Nakajima suspects it was done by my men."

"The shopkeeper must remain silent immediately." Lu Minghui looked at Lu Xuzhang. "Cut off all his peripheral operations, and only allow routine intelligence gathering. From now on, I will contact you directly."

He paused for a moment.

"Last night I asked the shopkeeper to investigate two matters, agreeing to use Old Knife brand cigarettes delivered to the hospital as a coded message. This signal must be canceled. Make him stop immediately before he takes action."

Lu Xuzhang frowned: "What happened?"

"Nakajima has his eye on it." Lu Minghui didn't explain further.

Lu Xuzhang did not ask any further questions.

"Alright. I'll arrange it." Lu Xuzhang stood up, picked up his briefcase, and said, "Keep the account books for now. I'll keep an eye on the surrounding chambers of commerce and gangs for you. You focus on dealing with Nakajima and Li Shiqun."

"Old Lu," Lu Minghui called out to him.

Lu Xuzhang turned around.

"We can't just give Wan Molin and his thirty-six men passes," Lu Minghui said coldly. "They have to come back after they take the gold. Otherwise, Nakajima will definitely become suspicious."

Lu Xuzhang didn't ask how to do it, nodded, opened the door and went out.

Lu Minghui looked at the closed door.

He clenched a handful of bedsheets in his right hand, then let go.

Half an hour later, Gu Yunqiu returned to the ward.

"Get the discharge papers ready." Lu Minghui threw back the covers, got out of bed, and said, "Go to Mei's office."

3 PM. Mei's office, section chief's office.

Shinichi Nakajima sat behind his desk, looking at the two documents in front of him.

One was the account book of the Guangda Chinese Bank. The other was the dispatch roster of the Green Gang docks.

Lu Minghui stood in front of his desk. His left arm was in a cast, and his face was still pale, but his back was ramrod straight.

"Minghui, you've given me a big surprise." Nakajima closed the file, looked up, his eyes full of admiration, "These past few days, you've been working yourself to the bone to take down those two tough nuts, Lu Xuzhang and Wan Molin."

"I am deeply grateful for your kindness, Section Chief, and I would gladly die for you." Lu Minghui bowed his head slightly.

Nakajima stood up, walked around the desk, and patted Lu Minghui on the right shoulder.

"What Li Shiqun and Shao Shijun went to great lengths to seize is now all in your hands." Nakajima walked to the window, looking at the courtyard outside. "The outer channels of Project Sugi have been opened up."

"It's in the section chief's hands." Lu Minghui smiled and quickly put the item away. "The channel is open, but my subordinates don't have any soldiers. I can't trust the people from the 76th Division."

Nakajima turned around and looked at him.

"Gang consolidation, black market raids, and transporting supplies. These dirty and tiring jobs have to be done by someone." Lu Minghui looked directly at Nakajima. "The 76th Action Team is Li Shiqun's private army, and She Aizhen's guard battalion also has deep ties with Li Shiqun."

"You need manpower." Nakajima nodded.

"I want to expand the guard battalion and establish a separate special operations team." Lu Minghui revealed his trump card. "Sun Yaozu is a useful idiot. I want to recruit a group of new people to be directly under my command."

"Where do you recruit from?" Nakajima asked.

"Wan Molin has a group of undocumented immigrants under his command," Lu Minghui said without changing his expression. "They're skilled, daring, and most importantly, they don't have deep gang connections. Wan Molin hid them in the French Concession as his trump card, and I found out. This group is perfect for us to do dirty work."

Nakajima stared at Lu Minghui. His scrutinizing gaze swept across Lu's face.

Lu Minghui did not avoid eye contact. He leaned forward half an inch, raised his chin slightly, and made no attempt to hide the urgency in his eyes.

"Now that Wan Molin has submitted, we should at least show some sincerity."

"How many people?" Nakajima asked.

Thirty-six.

Nakajima walked to his desk and picked up a fountain pen. The cap was unscrewed, and the nib hovered on the paper, not falling.

"Have you investigated these thirty-six people thoroughly?"

"I checked them one by one. Wan Molin had been supporting them at the docks for almost half a year, carrying sacks and loading and unloading goods, their skin roughened from hard labor." Lu Minghui said confidently, "None of them had any badges. They were strong and obedient, perfect for use."

Nakajima put the pen back on the pen holder.

"Thirty-six people of unknown origin, all added to your guard in one go." Nakajima didn't look at him, tapping his fingers lightly on the table twice. "Doesn't Wan Merlin feel bad about it?"

"He had no choice," Lu Minghui replied without hesitation. "He's handed over the dock and dispatching authority. Keeping this group of people in his hands would only be a ticking time bomb. By handing them over to me, he's at ease, I'm relieved, and the section chief is at ease."

Nakajima's fingers stopped.

He picked up the pen again, and the nib fell.

"Submit the list. I will personally approve the special passes and gun licenses." Nakajima signed his name on the document, screwed the pen cap back on, and turned it half a turn as he placed it on the pen holder. "These thirty-six men will be your personal guard. They will be responsible only to you."

He glanced at Lu Minghui, then looked down again.

"Of course, they are also responsible to me."

"Thank you, Section Chief." Lu Minghui bowed his head.

After finishing their business, Lu Minghui didn't rush to leave.

He looked at Nakajima, then changed the subject.

"Section Chief, it's been several days since the shooting at the train station. Have you found any leads with Ono-kun?"

Nakajima's smile faded.

"The few Kuomintang agents arrested in the South Square died in the interrogation room. The sniper in the North Square is nowhere to be found."

"No trace whatsoever?" Lu Minghui sneered, his voice rising a few decibels. "Section Chief, the clock tower is the highest point in the North Square, offering the best view. Lin Zhijiang led the team to search the outer perimeter; why would they miss such an obvious location?"

Nakajima narrowed his eyes.

"After the incident, Lin Zhijiang led his men up the clock tower, but only managed to retrieve three spent shell casings. They didn't even find a trace of anyone," Lu Minghui pressed. "In the past few days, the action team hasn't even apprehended a single suspect. Isn't Captain Lin's performance far too perfunctory?"

"What do you want to say?" Nakajima's voice was deep.

"Li Shiqun forged a Red Party telegram, trying to use you to get rid of me. Shao Shijun sent assassins to the French Concession, wanting to kill me." Lu Minghui looked at Nakajima, "Lin Zhijiang is Li Shiqun's most obedient dog. If I hadn't been lucky, the special envoy's double and I would already be corpses after those two shots at the train station."

Nakajima puffed out his cheeks.

"You suspect Lin Zhijiang of colluding with the enemy?" Nakajima asked.

"I only look at the results." Lu Minghui said calmly, "The result is that the Imperial Army's security plan has been infiltrated like a sieve, while the people in charge of the investigation are unharmed."

Nakajima picked up the teacup on the table and slammed it down heavily. Tea splashed out, landing on the wood grain.

"I'll have Ono take over the reinvestigation of this matter." Nakajima looked at Lu Minghui. "Go back and recover from your injuries. Get those thirty-six people incorporated into the guard battalion as soon as possible."

"Yes." Lu Minghui turned around and opened the door.

"Minghui." Nakajima didn't turn around. "You like Old Knife brand cigarettes. I'll give you some later."

Lu Minghui's hand rested on the doorknob, lingering for a moment.

"I'm not smoking cigarettes."

The door closed.

I walked out of the office building.

Lu Minghui walked to the car but didn't get in immediately. He rested his right hand on the roof, his knuckles turning white, clenched it for a few seconds, and then released it.

Old Knife Brand. Yongchang Grocery Store.

He opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.

Gu Yunqiu started the engine.

"The expansion has been approved." Lu Minghui leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and said, "Lin Zhijiang is going to be in trouble."

Gu Yunqiu paused for a moment while turning the steering wheel.

"You've turned the tables on Lin Zhijiang?"

"If you dare to mess with me, you'll have to pay the price." Lu Minghui didn't open his eyes.

The car drove out of the gate of the Meiji government office.

Gu Yunqiu glanced at the rearview mirror and lowered her voice.

"Just received intelligence. The cause of death of Shao Shijun's three assassins has been determined."

Lu Minghui opened his eyes and turned to look at her.

"It wasn't a shooting." Gu Yunqiu stared at the road ahead. "The military police's forensic doctor performed an autopsy. The blood hole between the eyebrows was a decoy. The real cause of death was three steel needles that pierced the medulla oblongata directly from the back of the head. One shot, one kill."

Lu Minghui's right hand rested on his knee, his fingers curled up, his nails digging into his trouser fabric.

Steel needle. Mellitus.

"Who did it?" Lu Minghui asked.

"I don't know." Gu Yunqiu stepped on the gas. "But Shao Shijun secretly went to the Hongkou Dojo this morning. He met a Japanese man."

The Ford sedan accelerated down the street.

Lu Minghui looked out the car window. Raindrops slanted against the glass, brushed away by the wind into streaks of water, which shattered before they could fully form.