Hidden Radiance

Night, the French Concession.

A light rain began to fall, and the streetlights cast a dim yellow glow.

Lu Minghui, wearing a black trench coat and holding a black umbrella, walked into an alley.

He circled three intersections, making sure the area behind him was clear. He stopped in front of a weathered wooden door and knocked four times: two long knocks and two short knocks.

The door opened a crack.

Lu Minghui slipped inside.

The lights were off inside. The streetlights from outside shone through the blinds, slicing the tabletop into strips.

Wang Puchen sat at the table. On the table lay a pistol, its muzzle pointing towards the door. To his left was an unopened pack of Sichuan cigarettes, brought from Chongqing. He hadn't bought a single pack of local cigarettes in the past two weeks in Shanghai.

The newly appointed station chief of the Military Intelligence Bureau's Shanghai branch. He arrived from Chongqing two weeks ago. Four years ago, Lu Minghui called him his instructor for a year at the training camp in Nan'an, Chongqing.

Upon recognizing the person who had entered, Wang Puchen put the gun back into the drawer.

"sit."

Lu Minghui folded his umbrella and stood by the door, then walked to the opposite table and sat down. A narrow table and an unlit kerosene lamp separated the two of them.

"Boss Dai is furious about the gold," Wang Puchen went straight to the point. "The station has been watching that batch of gold in Kunshan for three months, deploying two groups of people to intercept it and transport it back to Chongqing to fund the military. But Wu Sibao beat us to it. Now it's in the Japanese's hands. We've received a death order from above that it must be retrieved. I came to Shanghai specifically for those twenty boxes of gold."

Lu Minghui looked at Wang Puchen but did not answer.

"Twenty chests of gold are currently stored in the underground vault of the Mei Agency. Nakajima has added a squad of military police to guard it. They patrol 24 hours a day," Lu Minghui stated the facts. "It's impossible to steal anything from the Mei Agency."

"The station will organize a suicide squad." Wang Puchen said curtly, "You need to provide the internal architectural plans of the Mei Agency, as well as the rotation schedule for the underground vault."

"I've just been transferred to the 76th Confidential Office. I'm not responsible for the defense of the Mei Agency."

"You're the person Nakajima trusts most, you have a way." Wang Puchen leaned forward. "This is an order."

The rain pattered against the windowpane with a dull sound.

Lu Minghui did not respond.

A car drove by outside the window, its headlights sweeping across the blinds, leaving a mark on the wall, and then went out.

"The station knows your difficulties," Wang Puchen said gently. "If this mission succeeds, you will be the one to deserve the most credit."

"I can get the blueprints and the troop rotation schedule," Lu Minghui said, "but I have one condition."

"explain."

"I want Fu Yewen dead." Lu Minghui stared into Wang Puchen's eyes. "Moreover, he must die as 'Paper Kite'."

Wang Puchen was stunned.

Lu Minghui's tone remained unchanged, but his speaking speed even slowed down by half a beat.

"Before Wu Sibao died, he found a clue about the kite. This bomb could explode at any moment. Putting the kite's skin on Fu Yewen can both cover me and cut off one of Li Shiqun's arms."

Wang Puchen remained silent for a long time, then tapped his right index finger twice on the table.

"How do we do it?" Wang Puchen asked.

"Send a coded telegram that only Fu Yewen can decipher. The content involves the gold heist. I'll handle the rest," Lu Minghui said.

"Sure," Wang Puchen nodded. "When can we get the blueprints?"

"I got your contact information very quickly."

Lu Minghui stood up, preparing to leave.

"Wait a minute," Wang Puchen called out to him.

Wang Puchen took an envelope out of his inner pocket, placed it on the table, and pushed it over.

"If things get bad, we can retreat. A living person is more useful than gold." He tapped the envelope. "In case something goes wrong on your end, use this person—Paper Kite. The contact information is inside."

Lu Minghui reached out and took the envelope.

The envelope is very thin.

He opened the seal and pulled out a tattered black-and-white photograph.

By the dim light from the window, he could make out the contents of the photograph.

Right side. A man's profile.

Lu Minghui's hand stopped.

In the inner pocket of his trench coat, there lay the half of the photograph that She Aizhen had given him. The left half.

She Aizhen said it was a paper kite. Wang Puchen said it was a paper hawk.

When the two halves of the photo are put together, they form a complete face.

Lu Minghui raised his head and looked at Wang Puchen.

"who is he?"

Wang Puchen didn't answer. He stood up and straightened his collar.

"No need," Lu Minghui said, putting the photo back on the table. "It's probably too late."

He took out the other half of the photo from the inside pocket of his trench coat and placed it next to the first one.

Wang Puchen's expression changed drastically when he saw the photo.

"What happened? How did you end up with these photos?"

Lu Minghui pieced the two photos together. The man in the photo now had a complete face, silently watching them in the dim light.

"Is this person a kite?"

"Yes." Wang Puchen's voice deepened. "Could it be that he has already...?"

"I don't know." Lu Minghui shook his head. "Does he know you've come to Shanghai?"

Wang Puchen shook his head. "He doesn't know."

Lu Minghui separated the two photos again and put them away. He took out half a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, Old Knife brand.

"From now on, everyone in Shanghai loves to smoke this."

Wang Puchen stared at him, opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing more.

Lu Minghui picked up the umbrella, pushed open the door, and went out.

The rain was still falling. The alley was completely dark, without any lights. He opened his umbrella and walked back the way he came.

Half of a face is visible in the left inner pocket of the trench coat. The other half is visible in the right pocket.

Lu Minghui, holding a black umbrella, turned into a dead-end alley on the edge of the French Concession.

The rickshaw was parked under the eaves, and Old Zhao sat on the handlebars smoking a pipe, the flame in the pipe flickering.

Lu Minghui approached, not closing his umbrella, and lowered his voice through the rain: "Gu Yunqiu knows 'Old Ghost.' Notify the family and suggest that this line be immediately silenced. Find out how the South Manchuria Railway obtained this code name. As for the gold, I have a new idea. I suggest that the organization intercept this batch of gold, and prepare two trucks first. I need to know the results before 7 p.m. tomorrow, whether it's Gu Yunqiu's intelligence source or the organization's decision."

Old Zhao tapped his pipe: "Understood."

"Also, the Military Intelligence Bureau has its eye on those twenty boxes of gold, and Wang Puchen is personally in charge." Lu Minghui paused for a moment, "I'll let you know the detailed plan tomorrow night."

Old Zhao didn't ask any more questions. He put on his raincoat, picked up his cart, and disappeared into the rain.

Lu Minghui stood in the dead-end alley, rainwater streaming down his umbrella.

If the code name "Old Ghost" was dug out of a living person, then at least one link in the family has already rotted. If Gu Yunqiu fabricated it out of thin air, then she wasn't testing him, but the entire network behind him.

Regardless of the type, he cannot shrink back.

If he backs down, Gu Yunqiu will pursue him. Nakajima will become suspicious. The situation he just established at No. 76 will collapse instantly.

The rain continued to fall, and Lu Minghui kept walking forward, like a ghost walking in an abyss.

Late at night, at the Mei Agency.

Shinichi Nakajima's office light was still on.

Lu Minghui pushed open the door and entered, his clothes damp with sweat. He took off his trench coat at the door and hung it on the coat rack.

"Coming over so late, did you find something?" Nakajima sat behind his desk, a half-finished game of chess on the table.

Lu Minghui stepped forward, took out the envelope from the inner pocket, poured out the half of the photo, and pushed it in front of Nakajima.

"It was left behind by Wu Sibao. She Aizhen gave it to me today."

In the afternoon, dozens of eyes watched as She Aizhen handed over the envelope in the guard battalion's courtyard. This couldn't be kept secret any longer; rather than waiting for Nakajima to ask, she might as well hand it over herself.

Nakajima picked up half of the photograph and examined it against the lamp. The edges of the photograph were roughly torn, and it only showed half of a man's profile, making it impossible to tell who it was.

"This is 'kite'?" Nakajima squinted.

"She Aizhen said yes." Lu Minghui pulled out a chair and sat down, "But I checked the files of No. 76 and there is no record of this face."

Nakajima put down the photo and tapped his fingers on the table.

"Wu Sibao found the photos, which means he was very close to the truth. No wonder he died."

Lu Minghui stared intently into Nakajima's eyes, not missing a single change in his expression. He looked at him over and over again, without making any attempt to identify or compare.

It doesn't look like someone who has seen this face before.

"Section Chief, since Paper Kite is already lurking in No. 76, he'll definitely go into hiding now that Wu Sibao is dead," Lu Minghui cut to the chase. "Finding a needle in a haystack with just half a photo is too difficult. I want to take the initiative."

"How should we attack?"

"Use gold."

Nakajima's eyes turned cold instantly, and his hand, which had been tapping on the table, stopped.

"Gold is a strategic resource for the empire, and it's already in storage. You want to use it as bait?"

"No one can resist twenty chests of gold," Lu Minghui said calmly. "As long as we spread the word that the gold is going to be moved, the kite will definitely take the bait."

"No," Nakajima refused resolutely. "I absolutely cannot allow any damage to the gold. If anything goes wrong, neither of us can bear the consequences."

"Section Chief, you've misunderstood. I meant using gold, not real gold." Lu Minghui leaned forward. "Wu Sibao has four secret locations in the French Concession. I just mentioned these four places to Fu Yewen this morning."

Nakajima's eyes flashed: "You want to use the Dark Hall as a trap?"