Hidden Radiance

Lobby of Lita Bank.

Wang Shijin's gaze was fixed on the approval book in Nanzao Yunzi's hand.

I stared at it for two seconds.

He placed the coffee cup back on the stair railing. The sound of the porcelain cup hitting the iron railing was very soft, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet lobby.

"Director Lu," Wang Shijin straightened his cuffs, "you've won this round."

He didn't look at Lu Minghui again, and turned to walk towards the door.

As I reached the door, I paused for a moment.

He reached out his right hand to push the door open, pressing his palm against the glass for a moment. His fingers were spread wide, his knuckles white, and the glass trembled slightly beneath his palm.

"Did you really win?"

There was no turning back.

Shao Shijun scrambled to his feet and stumbled after him. As he passed Lu Minghui, his lips moved, and he managed to utter half a syllable before swallowing it back down. He lowered his head and disappeared into the rain.

Lu Minghui watched as the two got into the car and drove away from Ningbo Road.

Nanzo Yunzi walked up to him, her voice almost touching his ear: "Shao Shijun's recorded phone call is still at the military police headquarters, aren't you going to stop it?"

"Let him go back." Lu Minghui's gaze didn't leave the taillights of the departing car.

Nanzo Yunzi did not ask any further questions.

"Fall back." Lu Minghui turned around.

Gu Yunqiu picked up the account books from the ground and put them back in the cloth bag.

three days later.

Hongkou, Meiji.

The sign on the section chief's office door has been changed. The old brass sign has been removed, with the screw holes still showing, and the new sign has the word "Consultant" added. The paint is fresh, and the color is a shade brighter than the other signs in the hallway.

Lu Minghui slowed his pace slightly as he walked down the corridor.

He pushed open the door.

There were shards of broken porcelain on the floor. Blue and white porcelain, scattered everywhere. Documents had slipped off the table, and no one picked them up.

Shinichi Nakajima stood by the window, his hands resting on the windowsill. His ten fingers were embedded in the cracks in the wood, his knuckles turning blue.

A telegram lay open on the table. The pages had been crumpled and then flattened, with creases layered upon creases.

Lu Minghui glanced at the telegram's heading: Tokyo General Staff Headquarters. It was signed by Itagaki in a joint impeachment petition.

Wang Shijin turned the tables. Poor resource allocation in Shanghai led to a run on supplies, causing Project Shan to fail. The military was furious, and a reprimanding telegram followed.

Shinichi Nakajima was relieved of his post as head of the Special Higher Police. He was transferred to the Ume Agency as a senior advisor, specializing in intelligence coordination and Project Sugi.

Nanzo Yunko stood to the right of the desk.

She was wearing a crisp military uniform today. The cherry blossom pattern on her collar insignia had one more petal than yesterday.

Double red collar tabs.

Head of the Special Higher Police Section.

Lu Minghui's gaze lingered on the collar insignia for a moment, and he slowed his right foot's stride by half an inch.

He didn't walk towards the chair opposite the desk. That chair was empty, with Nakajima's coat draped over the back. Lu Minghui walked around it and sat on the sofa against the wall.

No one told him to change seats.

He glanced down at the broken pieces of porcelain on the ground. A sharp corner of a shard was pressed against the edge of his leather shoe; he didn't move it.

"Section Chief," Nanzo Yunzi said calmly, "Although Wang Shijin has escaped back to Nanjing, an investigation team has been established in Tokyo. He cannot escape responsibility."

"Investigation team?" Nakajima turned around. He didn't shout; instead, his voice was even softer than usual. "Litai Bank's credit has collapsed, and the implementation of the Central Reserve Bank's bonds has been hindered. The Sugi Project has failed. These are the things the military values ​​most."

He loosened the windowsill and put his hands behind his back.

"I spent six months preparing," Nakajima said through gritted teeth, "and it was ruined by a politician."

Nakajima walked back to his desk but didn't sit down. He rested his hands on the table, staring at the telegram.

The only sounds coming from the corridor were the occasional footsteps.

Lu Minghui didn't speak immediately. He waited a while.

Nakajima loosened his fingers from the table, clenched them briefly, and then released them again.

Lu Minghui stood up and walked to his desk.

"Section Chief," Lu Minghui said, looking at Nakajima, "it was only Wang Shijin and Shao Shijun who failed, not Project Sugi."

Nakajima looked up, his brow furrowed. "The banks have collapsed, how can we continue?"

Lu Minghui took out a list from his inner bag and placed it on the table.

"Gu Yunqiu led his men to blockade the docks. Eighty percent of the cotton yarn and grain that Wang Shijin's scalpers had stolen have been recovered. They're all in the military police's warehouse." Lu Minghui pointed to the numbers on the list. "The Lita Bank's shelves are still there, and the gold is still there."

Nakajima picked up the list and looked at it line by line. When he got to the third line, he loosened his left hand that was resting on the table.

"The supplies are still here, but the credit is gone." Nakajima put down the list. "The people don't accept China Reserve Bank notes. Shao Shijun and Wang Shijin went back to Nanjing, and the bank doesn't even have anyone in charge."

"Change the bank manager," Lu Minghui suggested.

Nakajima looked at Lu Minghui.

"Even Shao Shijun, who understands finance, can't control the situation." Nakajima tapped the table. "Who do you think can?"

"Shao Shijun's problem isn't that he doesn't understand finance, it's that he only understands finance," Lu Minghui said calmly. "To work in a bank in Shanghai, besides understanding finance, you also need to understand interpersonal relationships."

Nakajima narrowed his eyes.

"Wan Molin." Lu Minghui didn't preamble.

"Someone from the Green Gang?"

"A tycoon in the French Concession, with thousands of men under his command. The Chamber of Commerce gives him face, and the common people fear his sticks." Lu Minghui paused for a moment. "He used to be Du Yuesheng's moneybags. He's very shrewd with his finances."

Nakajima walked to the sofa and sat down. His fingers tapped on his knees.

"The Empire's bank is being managed by a Chinese rogue? How are we going to explain this to Tokyo?"

Lu Minghui didn't rush to reply.

Nakajima tapped his knee three more times with his fingers, each tap heavier than the last. He stared at Lu Minghui, waiting for him to give a sufficiently compelling reason.

"Acting bank manager," Lu Minghui replied quickly. "If you do a good job, remove the acting manager position. If you don't, replace you at any time."

Nakajima's fingers didn't stop. He slammed the list back onto the table, and the pages bounced.

"Minghui, I'm not even a section chief anymore." Nakajima's voice deepened to the bottom of his throat. "You want me to use the name of a Green Gang thug to report to Tokyo?"

Lu Minghui did not back down.

"Section Chief, you don't need to report Tokyo." Lu Minghui took half a step forward. "What you're reporting are numbers. Once the Central Reserve Bank notes circulate in Shanghai, Tokyo will see the results. Itagaki and his gang impeached you for poor implementation, so you shut them up with the results. Nobody cares who becomes the bank manager."

Nakajima looked up at Lu Minghui. His gaze swept over Lu's face twice before settling on him.

He didn't answer immediately. He turned and walked to the window, his back to Lu Minghui, and gripped the blind cord with his right hand for a long time.

The rope has come loose.

Nakajima walked back to his desk, opened a drawer, and took out his personal seal.

"Yunzi, you're now the head of the Special Higher Police Section. What's your opinion on this matter?"

Nanzo Yunzi glanced at Lu Minghui.

"Wan Molin is indeed suitable," Nanzo Yunzi replied. "However, he was promoted by Director Lu. The Confidential Affairs Department is in charge of material allocation, and Litai Bank is in charge of fund transfers. These two lines cannot be entirely handled by one person."

Nakajima nodded.

"Wan Molin will serve as acting president. However, the daily supervision of Litai Bank will be taken over by the Special Higher Police. Yunzi, send someone to be stationed at the bank."

"Yes." Nanzo Yunzi stood at attention.

Lu Minghui lowered his head slightly.

My left hand hangs at my side, my thumb is pressed into the knuckle of my index finger, and I don't let go.

"It's entirely up to the section chief."

Nakajima stamped his personal seal. The red ink from the seal spread across the white paper, the color still fresh.

Lu Minghui glanced at the red seal, then turned and walked out of the office.

in the afternoon.

76 Jessfield Road.

Confidential Office.

Lu Minghui pushed open the door and stopped.

The door to the adjacent suite was open. The typewriter inside was gone. The desk was empty, except for a desk lamp and a telephone.

Nanzo Yunko moved away.

Lu Minghui walked to the open door and glanced at the empty room. There was an ashtray on the windowsill with a cigarette butt inside that had a lipstick stain on it.

He closed the door.

Gu Yunqiu walked over from the other end of the corridor, holding a document in her hand.

"Wan Molin's appointment letter has arrived," Gu Yunqiu said. "He will officially take office tomorrow."

Lu Minghui picked up the document, glanced at it, and put it in the drawer.

"Who did Nanzo Yunzi send to the bank?" Lu Minghui asked.

"The head of the Special Higher Police's action group, Takeda," Gu Yunqiu replied. "He served as an interrogator in the Fengtian Military Police for three years. He has confessions from eleven murders on his hands."

Lu Minghui leaned back in his chair and tapped his finger on the edge of the table.

"Has Wan Merlin given any instructions?"

"He's already been told. He knows the rules."

Gu Yunqiu paused for a moment. Instead of leaving immediately, she placed another item she was carrying on the table.

A thin piece of paper. The writing of a kite.

Lu Minghui stopped holding the cigarette.

"Wang Puchen, the head of the Military Intelligence Bureau's Shanghai station, will arrive in Shanghai tomorrow." Gu Yunqiu's voice was low and husky.

Lu Minghui put the cigarette back on the table.

Wang Puchen. The man I met at the monastery in the French Concession last time, with a mouth full of cigar reeking of smoke, whose eyes didn't move when he smiled.

"What's he doing here?" Lu Minghui asked.

"Reorganize the Shanghai station," Gu Yunqiu replied. "Li Shiqun's covert network has been completely eradicated by Ding Mocun, and half of the Military Intelligence Bureau's smuggling network in Shanghai has been paralyzed. Wang Puchen is here this time to rebuild the channels."

Lu Minghui's right hand rested on the edge of the table, the cigarette pack flipped over in his palm.

"What about the Black Dragon Society?"

"Mr. Matsui has already made the arrangements. Tomorrow night at 8 PM, at the underground bar of the International Hotel," Gu Yunqiu said.

Lu Minghui nodded.

"Go and prepare."

Gu Yunqiu turned and went out.

night.

The French Concession, the Wan Mansion.

Wan Molin, dressed in a dark blue long gown, sat in a grand chair. He held a pair of walnuts in his right hand, the sound of them clinking together unhurriedly.

On the table was the letter of appointment for the acting president of Lita Bank.

Several Green Gang leaders stood below. Some rubbed their hands together, others grinned. One of them had already shouted, "Great news, Master Wan!" but before the words had even finished, Wan Molin stopped eating the walnuts in his hand.

The room fell silent.

Wan Molin placed the walnuts on the table very gently.

He picked up the appointment letter, turned it over, and placed it face down on the table.

"If anyone mentions the word 'happiness' again, don't come tomorrow."