Hidden Radiance

76 Jessfield Road.

Office of the Director of the Special Investigation Committee.

Lin Zhijiang pushed open the door and strode in, closing it behind him.

"Director, keep an eye on it." Lin Zhijiang lowered his voice. "Last night, Lu Minghui went to the Wan Mansion and left after less than half an hour. Our informant at the Wan Mansion reported that after Lu Minghui left, Wan Molin locked himself in his study and altered several secret ledgers of Litai Bank overnight."

Li Shiqun sat behind his desk, fiddling with a silver coin in his hand.

"Alter the accounts?" Li Shiqun sneered as he twirled the silver coin between his fingers. "Feeling guilty? Does Lu Minghui really think he can control everything and swallow all of the Black Dragon Society's goods?"

"The informant also said that Wan Molin locked the revised ledgers in the bank manager's office safe early this morning." Lin Zhijiang leaned in half a step. "Director, shall we go check now?"

Li Shiqun did not answer immediately.

The silver coin stopped at his fingertips. He stood it upright on the table, pressed it with his index finger, and slowly spun it around.

"That was too smooth." Li Shiqun stared at the spinning silver coin. "Wan Molin has been in Shanghai for twenty years. He wouldn't hide things so carelessly."

Lin Zhijiang paused for a moment. "What the director means is..."

"There are two possibilities." Li Shiqun loosened his grip, and the silver coin fell to the ground, bouncing twice on the table. "One is that Lu Minghui panicked and forced Wan Molin to make up for the losses overnight. The other—"

He didn't go on.

The silver coin spun one last half-turn on the table before falling over. Li Shiqun slapped it back down.

"Prepare the car. To Litai Bank." Li Shiqun stood up, grabbed his trench coat from the hanger, and said, "Even if it's a trap, I have to see for myself what he's hiding. Bring all the Special Investigation Committee members with you."

Lin Zhijiang followed. "What if it's a trap?"

"I have to get through this trap." Li Shiqun pushed open the door. "Mr. Zhou is waiting for me to deliver. I have no way out."

Ningbo Road, International Settlement.

Lita Bank.

Wan Molin sat in the bank manager's office, without a plate of walnuts in his hand. Several documents were spread out in front of him, and a fountain pen rested on the paper, its cap undone.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor, mixed with shouts from secret agents.

Wan Molin's pen fell onto the table. He stood up, strode to the safe in the corner, and turned the combination lock. As he turned to the second set of numbers, someone in the hallway started kicking the door next door.

My finger trembled, and the disc rotated one more notch.

It's not open.

Footsteps were already at the door.

Wan Molin gritted his teeth, stepped back, and twisted the knob again. With a click, the cabinet door popped open. He shoved the top document on the table inside and slammed the cabinet door shut.

boom!

The office door was kicked open.

Li Shiqun led a dozen or so agents in, pointing their guns directly at Wan Molin.

Wan Molin stood in front of the safe, his hand still resting on the door.

"Master Wan, what are you hiding in such a hurry?" Li Shiqun strode over, his gaze fixed on the safe.

Wan Molin's face darkened. "Director Li, you've been kicking down the door every few days. Do you really think Lita Bank is your interrogation room from the 76th Division?"

"Enough talk. Open the cabinet."

"There was no order from the Special Higher Police—"

Before he could finish speaking, Li Shiqun turned to look at Lin Zhijiang. Lin Zhijiang found a pair of pliers and a crowbar and handed them to the agent behind him.

Wan Molin stood in front of the safe. "Li Shiqun, how dare you!"

Lin Zhijiang slammed the butt of his gun into Wan Molin's hand, causing Wan Molin to grunt and stumble back half a step. Two agents grabbed his arms and dragged him aside.

A crowbar was inserted into the gap in the cabinet door. Pliers gripped the latch.

Click.

The safe door was pried open.

Li Shiqun reached in and pulled out the document from the top.

It is a deposit slip.

The paper was new and bore the internal circulation stamp of Lita Bank.

Li Shiqun's gaze swept over the words on the deposit slip.

Time of receipt: One week ago. Product name: Penicillin. Quantity: Fifty boxes. Storage location: Backup warehouse on the second basement floor of Lita Bank. Consignee: Blank.

Li Shiqun held the deposit slip without saying a word.

Fifty boxes of penicillin. That number was enormous. So enormous that he couldn't immediately believe it.

He flipped the deposit slip over. Blank. He flipped it back, pressed his thumb on the stamp, and looked at his fingertip—no ink on his hand. It wasn't freshly stamped.

Li Shiqun looked up at Wan Molin.

Wan Molin was being held by two secret agents, his right hand clutching the swollen back of his left hand, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes were fixed on the deposit slip in Li Shiqun's hand, his Adam's apple bobbed, but he didn't speak.

Li Shiqun made up his mind.

"Great, very good." Li Shiqun stuffed the deposit slip into the inside pocket of his trench coat. "Fifty boxes of penicillin, just like that, brazenly hidden in the bank's underground vault. Wan Molin, you and Lu Minghui are incredibly audacious."

Wan Merlin remained silent.

"Lin Zhijiang, leave two people to watch him." Li Shiqun patted his inner pocket. "The rest of you come with me. To the second basement level."

He turned and strode out the door.

The entrance to the staircase on the second basement level.

There was a faint smell of ink in the air.

Dressed in civilian clothes, Takeda sat on a wooden chair at the top of the stairs, wiping his Type 14 Nambu rifle. Two Japanese military policemen, each carrying a Type 100 submachine gun, stood ramrod straight.

Li Shiqun led his men down and stopped five steps away from the iron gate.

"Team Leader Takeda." Li Shiqun took out the deposit slip and shook it. "The Special Investigation Committee has been ordered to seize contraband. There are fifty boxes of penicillin in the backup warehouse on the second basement floor. Please open the door."

Takeda didn't even look up.

"No one is allowed to enter without Chief Nan's written permission."

"This is an order from Nanjing!" Li Shiqun pushed the deposit slip forward. "This batch of goods wasn't even registered; it's smuggled goods that Lu Minghui embezzled!"

Takeda examined the gun barrel against the light, then holstered it back in his waistband. He stood up, leaned against the iron gate, and crossed his arms.

"Last time you came, I pointed a gun at your head. Even after I filed a complaint, you still couldn't get in."

Li Shiqun's temple throbbed.

Lin Zhijiang and the agent behind him kept their hands on their gun handles, not drawing them. The lesson from last time was still fresh in their minds. He didn't dare kill Takeda, but Takeda dared to kill him.

Li Shiqun did not look at Takeda again.

He stared at the heavy iron door. From the cracks in the door, he could faintly hear the dull hum of machinery running.

Click, click.

The rhythm is steady and continuous.

Li Shiqun's nostrils twitched slightly. The smell of ink grew stronger.

Do fifty boxes of penicillin require a machine to operate?

His gaze shifted from the iron gate back to Takeda's face. Takeda leaned against the gate, arms crossed, in a relaxed posture.

"Takeda," Li Shiqun said in a low voice, "you're guarding this door so fiercely, but you're probably not guarding penicillin, are you?"

Takeda didn't answer. His lips twitched slightly; it was hard to tell if it was a smile.

The smell of ink filled my nostrils; it was pungent and acrid.

"Let's go." Li Shiqun turned around.

He led his men quickly up the stairs. Reaching the corner, he glanced back at the iron gate.

76 Jessfield Road.

Confidential Office.

Lu Minghui sat behind his desk, opened a document with his right hand, picked up a pen, and signed his name at the end.

Gu Yunqiu pushed open the door and walked in.

"Li Shiqun got the deposit slip." Gu Yunqiu walked to the table. "He stayed on the second basement level for three minutes, but didn't dare to force his way in. He then led his men away."

Lu Minghui put down his pen. "Where did he go?"

"I didn't go back to No. 76, I went straight to the train station." Gu Yunqiu said calmly, "I bought a ticket to Nanjing."

Lu Minghui leaned back in his chair and poured out an old-brand cigarette from the pack. He took out his lighter with his right hand, flicked the powder, and a flame leaped up. The cigarette butt turned red.

"What about Takeda?" Gu Yunqiu asked. "Li Shiqun stayed on the second basement level for three minutes. With his nose, he must have smelled the ink."

Lu Minghui rested his cigarette on the edge of the table and did not reply.

Gu Yunqiu didn't press further. She placed another briefing document on the table.

"Another batch of finished products will be shipped out of Shanghai tonight. They will travel by waterway on Taihu Lake directly into the Kuomintang-controlled areas."

Lu Minghui stood up and walked to the window.

"Not a single box of this shipment can remain in the Kuomintang-controlled areas."

"How did you intercept them?" Gu Yunqiu asked. "Takeda personally escorted the vehicle. The Special Higher Police's defenses were airtight."

Lu Minghui turned around.

"We won't intercept."

Gu Yunqiu raised her head, waiting for what was to come.

"From departure to delivery, Takeda's men were under Nakajima's surveillance the entire time. Taking action would expose them." Lu Minghui walked back to the table and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

He picked up the telephone receiver from the table, then put it down again.

"Contact Paper Kite. Have him inform Wang Puchen that a batch of counterfeit banknotes is about to leave Shanghai, originating from the second basement level of the Litai Bank."

Gu Yunqiu nodded.

"Once the goods arrive in the Nationalist-controlled area, the people in Chongqing will handle them." Lu Minghui looked at Gu Yunqiu. "When Li Shiqun takes the smell of ink to Nanjing, Zhou Fohai will know what Nakajima is up to in Shanghai."

Gu Yunqiu didn't ask any further questions. She opened the door and went out.

Lu Minghui checked the time, returned to his desk, picked up the phone, and dialed Nakajima.

"Section Chief, Li Shiqun led a group to break into the second basement level of Litai Bank." Lu Minghui spoke very quickly. "I had previously made a fake deposit slip to lure Communist Party members, but he intercepted it and rushed straight to Takeda. The door didn't open, but he stood at the stairwell for three minutes."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

It was so long that Lu Minghui could hear Shinichi Nakajima's breath being squeezed out little by little from his nasal cavity.

"Where is he now?" Nakajima's voice was an octave lower than usual.

"Train station. Bought a ticket to Nanjing."

A crisp sound came from the receiver—like something being crushed.

Click. The call ended.

Lu Minghui put the receiver back on the landline.

Outside the window, it was already completely dark.

A long train whistle sounded in the distance.

Li Shiqun was sitting in the train carriage bound for Nanjing, the deposit slip tucked into his pocket, the smell of ink still lingering in his nostrils. The fields outside the window were pitch black, and the sound of the wheels rolling over the rails was muffled and heavy.

He pulled the deposit slip out of the inner pocket and then put it back in. He did this three times.