Hidden Radiance

The rain keeps falling.

The French Concession.

The Ford sedan was parked outside the walls of the abandoned monastery. The engine was off.

Lu Minghui got out of the car, his left arm in a cast hidden inside his large black trench coat. Gu Yunqiu followed behind him, her hands in her leather jacket pockets, her gaze sweeping over the surrounding dark alleyways.

Climb over the low wall and pass through the overgrown yard.

In the shadows of the altar, a red light flickered. Wang Puchen, with a cigar in his mouth, watched a man and a woman walk in.

On the second-floor staircase, the muzzle of the kite's gun hung limply.

"You're getting bolder and bolder." Wang Puchen exhaled a puff of smoke, his gaze sweeping over Gu Yunqiu. "Bringing Manchuria Iron Army agents to my territory?"

Lu Minghui stopped five steps in front of the altar. "She's mine now."

Wang Puchen sneered. "Your man? Nakajima Shinichi's confidant, when did he become your man?"

"She's a member of the Communist Party," Lu Minghui said, throwing out four words.

There was a moment of silence in the monastery.

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

Wang Puchen's fingers, which were holding the cigar, froze. He pulled the cigar from his mouth, clenched it in his palm, and looked Gu Yunqiu over again.

"The Red Party? The Red Party members close to the high-ranking officials of the South Manchuria Railway?"

"The real Gu Yunqiu died in Fengtian. The current one is a substitute sent by the Red Party." Lu Minghui said calmly. "Zhiyao went to Manchuria and investigated her background. You can ask him."

Wang Puchen turned to look at the second floor.

Paper Kite emerged half a step from the shadows. "My classmate fired the shot in Fengtian. Right in the heart. The people at the South Manchuria Railway didn't know she'd been switched."

Wang Puchen put the cigar back in his mouth, bit down, but didn't light it. His cheeks twitched twice.

"The Red Party members are the most stubborn and extremely difficult to win over." Wang Puchen stared at Lu Minghui. "What makes you think she's one of yours?"

"Because her life is in my hands." Lu Minghui looked directly at Wang Puchen. "I not only know she's a Communist, but I also know how she changed her identity. Once Nakajima Shinichi sees the evidence, she won't live past tonight."

Lu Minghui turned to look at Gu Yunqiu. "She may not be afraid of death, but what about her mission? If she wants to complete her mission, she can only obey my orders."

Gu Yunqiu stood still. Her left hand, tucked into her leather jacket pocket, clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palm, then she released it. Her face remained expressionless.

Wang Puchen fell silent. He twirled the cigar between his fingers twice.

"You can come back and tell me these things." Wang Puchen's voice deepened, and he pointed in Gu Yunqiu's direction. "Why did she have to be here? She saw my face."

"If I go back and relay the message that 'the head of the Military Intelligence Bureau has agreed,' will she believe me?" Lu Minghui looked into Wang Puchen's eyes. "She's a member of the Communist Party. She'll only admit it after seeing the knife with her own eyes."

Wang Puchen, with a cigar in his mouth, didn't reply. He ground his teeth on the cigarette holder a couple of times.

"You sold my face." Wang Puchen exhaled from his cigarette, his voice low and deep. "Minghui, you'll remember this."

"Remember this." Lu Minghui didn't back down. "That's why I brought her here, not to show you. It's to let her know that she's in this together with me. If she betrays you, she betrays me. If I die, who will protect her trump card?"

Wang Puchen looked at Paper Kite on the second floor. Paper Kite's gun muzzle was still hanging down, not aimed at Gu Yunqiu, but it also didn't move.

"What do you plan to do with her?" Wang Puchen asked.

"Let her stay within the Red Party, to be our spy." Lu Minghui looked into Wang Puchen's eyes. "She can get intelligence from the South Manchuria Railway Company, and the Red Party's movements. For our Military Intelligence Bureau, this is a sure-fire way to make money."

Wang Puchen glanced at the kite. The kite nodded.

"Okay." Wang Puchen put the cigar back in his mouth. "You're in charge of this nail."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the dilapidated stained-glass window.

"This place is ruined. Let's find another place next time."

"Project Sugi has been launched. Nakajima wants me to take over the gangs and chambers of commerce in Shanghai," Lu Minghui continued.

"You got the full picture of the plan?" Wang Puchen asked, taking a deep drag of his cigar. As the smoke escaped from his nostrils, his eyes remained fixed on Lu Minghui.

"This is just the tip of the iceberg. This is a long-term and ambitious plan." Lu Minghui pulled a piece of paper from his trench coat and threw it on the altar. "The first step is to control the supply channels. I've already taken down Lu Xuzhang of Guangda Huahang and Wan Molin of the Green Gang."

Wang Puchen took the paper and glanced at it. "Xinmin Machinery Factory, Hu Juewen?"

"Yes." Lu Minghui looked at him. "Hu Juewen is loyal to us and has secretly sent us a lot of equipment. I want to recruit him, but he won't bow down. Because in his eyes, I am a traitor and a lackey."

Wang Puchen sneered. "You want me to order him to cooperate with you as a traitor?"

"It's not about being a traitor, it's about protecting his factory." Lu Minghui tapped the edge of the altar. "If Hu Juewen doesn't cooperate, Li Shiqun will lead his men to raze his factory, and all the machines will belong to the Japanese. Let him pretend to submit to me, ostensibly working for Nakajima, but secretly, his machines and parts can still be shipped to Chongqing."

Wang Puchen, with a cigar between his fingers, didn't reply.

"Nakajima still has doubts about me. I have to handle this matter flawlessly." Lu Minghui emphasized, "The more firmly I stand, the closer I can get to the core of Project Sugi."

Wang Puchen took a puff of his cigar, and smoke escaped from his nostrils.

"I'll have the Shanghai station send him a secret order tomorrow." Wang Puchen put the paper in his pocket. "Report any new leads on Project Shan to me immediately."

"Of course." Lu Minghui turned and walked out.

Gu Yunqiu followed.

We left the monastery and got into the car.

Gu Yunqiu started the engine. The lights in the carriage were off, with only the shadows of the streetlights casting alternating patterns on their faces.

"How long will he keep this up?" Gu Yunqiu asked, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his voice low.

"As long as you're still of use, he'll keep buying from you." Lu Minghui leaned back in his chair. "Now, you're a member of the Military Intelligence Bureau."

Gu Yunqiu didn't reply and stepped on the gas.

At the same time. In the French Concession, at Yongchang Grocery Store.

In the main house in the backyard, the flame of the kerosene lamp flickered.

Lu Xuzhang sat on the long bench, looking at the shopkeeper opposite him.

"From today onwards, the general store will enter a state of silence." Lu Xuzhang lowered his voice. "Cease all peripheral operations, and only maintain routine intelligence gathering. You will report directly to Rouge's leadership."

The shopkeeper paused for a moment, then nodded. "Understood."

Lu Xuzhang took a thick file bag from his briefcase and pushed it onto the table. "This contains forged files and background information on thirty-six guerrilla fighters. Tomorrow morning, put this in an Old Knife cigarette case and deliver it to the Japanese Naval Hospital."

The shopkeeper frowned. "I just received news that Comrade Rouge has already been discharged from the hospital. Why send her back?"

Lu Xuzhang did not answer. He stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the dark alley.

The shopkeeper held the document bag and waited a few seconds.

"Nakajima has his eye on this general store. Old Knife Brand has his eye on it too." Lu Xuzhang, with his back to him, spoke calmly. "Rouge has asked me to handle it. The general store's sudden disappearance will only attract more attention."

The shopkeeper's hand tightened, his knuckles turning white. He looked down at the file folder in his hand, then at Lu Xuzhang's retreating figure.

A few seconds later, the shopkeeper opened the file bag, pulled out a page, glanced at it, and then put it back.

"I understand." The shopkeeper placed the document bag on the table and lowered his voice. "Give it to them openly and honestly."

Lu Xuzhang turned around and glanced at him. "The contents inside can withstand scrutiny."

The shopkeeper nodded.

Lu Xuzhang put his gold-rimmed glasses back on and pushed open the door to walk into the rainy night.

The following morning. Mei's office, section chief's office.

Shinichi Nakajima sat behind his desk, flipping through thirty-six personnel files in his hand.

Ono stood to the side, his face looking rather grim.

"Section Chief, these files were intercepted from the Naval Hospital this morning." Ono said, head bowed. "They were delivered by a clerk from Yongchang Grocery Store, hidden inside a carton of Lao Dao brand cigarettes. There was only half a carton."

Nakajima turned a page of the file, looking at the detailed information on the person's place of origin, gang background, and black market transaction records.

"Lu Minghui has been discharged from the hospital, and his informant is still sending intelligence to the hospital." Nakajima turned to the next page, his gaze lingering on it for two seconds without looking up.

"Section Chief, Lu Minghui has been recruiting these people of unknown origin without authorization and even had informants secretly investigate them. Could he be harboring ulterior motives?" Ono couldn't help but ask.

Nakajima didn't respond. He pulled out one of the thirty-six files, opened it, pressed his thumb on the place of origin column, paused for two seconds, and then put it back.

"Send the file to No. 76 and give it to Lu Minghui." Nakajima closed the file, waved his hand, and said, "Tell him that I've approved the establishment of the special operations team. Oh, and this half-pack of cigarettes."

Ono opened his mouth, but said nothing more, and left.

Nakajima stood up and walked to the window.

The rain has stopped. The sky over Shanghai remains overcast.

The phone on my desk rang.

Nakajima walked over and picked up the microphone.

"Section Chief." A deep male voice with a heavy Kansai accent came from the other end of the phone, "Shao Shijun went to the Hongkou Dojo today. He's offering a reward of ten gold bars for Lu Minghui's head."

Nakajima tightened his grip on the microphone, readjusting his five fingers to hold it more firmly.

"Those three on Fürth Road." Nakajima didn't use a question.

The other party did not deny it.

"Matsui-kun," Nakajima's voice was flat, "Lu Minghui can't die yet. The Sugi Project needs him. Since Shao Shijun enjoys assassinations so much, let him experience what it's like to be watched."

"clear."

The phone hangs up.

Nakajima put down the microphone. His hand remained on the microphone, not immediately withdrawing it.

He slowly turned around, walked back to his desk, and sat down.

His gaze swept across the table. The newspaper in the corner was still there, exactly where it had been yesterday. It was an archive that Ono had retrieved from the newspaper office three days ago. He reached out and pulled it over.

The page featured a serialized version of "The Legend of the White Snake." The image of the green snake was winding and intricate.

Nakajima's gaze shifted from the blue snake to a line of small print at the bottom of the page: "GG". He paused for two seconds.

His finger returned to the green snake, his nail tracing the curve of the snake's body, stopping next to the inconspicuous page number at the end of the snake's tail.

He took a pencil from the pen holder, wrote a few pseudonyms on the blank edge of the newspaper, examined them for a moment, crossed one out, and rewrote them.

"gardener."

Outside the door, the sound of military boots approached from afar and stopped outside the office. A knock came at the door.