Hidden Radiance

Night. French Concession.

Notre Dame Cathedral.

The wind blew in through the gaps in the blinds, carrying the dampness of the Huangpu River.

Lu Minghui climbed the wooden stairs step by step. The sound of his leather shoes echoed in the empty stairwell.

Top-level platform.

A man in a black trench coat stood with his back to the stairwell beside a huge bronze bell. The hem of his trench coat fluttered in the wind. His wide-brimmed hat was pulled low.

In the shadow of the bronze bell, a short man huddled, his hands in his pockets and his face buried behind his turned-up collar.

Lu Minghui's gaze lingered on the short man for half a second. He was hunched over, his chin practically burying its head in his collar. He wore a pair of brightly polished Oxford shoes, which seemed out of place with his timid appearance.

A lackey.

He stopped five steps away from the man in the trench coat.

"Director Lu is very punctual." The man turned around. It was the same person from the basement of Lita Bank.

Lu Minghui didn't reply. He took out an old-fashioned dagger, bit off a stick, and lit it. The flame flickered twice, illuminating half of his face.

"You're the stationmaster of Paper Kite Station?" Lu Minghui exhaled a puff of smoke. "The stationmaster didn't invite me here just to catch a whiff of the wind."

The man took a step forward. His hands were in his trench coat pockets.

boom!

The bullet entered from outside the clock tower, grazed the man's ear, and embedded itself in the bronze bell behind him.

when--

The sound was crisp, rapid, and brief.

The man jerked his neck back, drew his gun, and swiftly leaned into the shadow behind the bronze bell. His top hat fell to the ground.

The short man in the shadows was already lying on the ground, his hands covering his head.

The man stared intently at Lu Minghui.

"Lu Minghui! What do you mean?!" the man growled through gritted teeth. "I came with sincerity, and you brought assassins?!"

Lu Minghui stood still, not even the fingers holding the cigarette trembled.

"Don't be nervous." Lu Minghui flicked off his cigarette ash. "My men just got new guns recently and adjusted their firing angles. He's a decent shot; if he says he won't hit you in the head, he means he won't even touch your hair."

The man glanced at the top hat on the ground; there was a charred bullet hole on the edge of the brim.

In the darkness, at least one sniper rifle was locked onto him.

He tightened his grip on the gun, then slowly lowered it.

"Director Lu, you've got some skills." The man stepped out of the shadows. "Is this your way of treating guests?"

"Guests?" Lu Minghui laughed. "Uninvited, and they even killed someone and left a note on my turf. Is that what you call a guest?"

Lu Minghui looked at him.

"Please show your sincerity," Lu Minghui said, exhaling a smoke ring.

The man stared at Lu Minghui. A three-second standoff ensued.

He reached his left hand into his inner pocket. The movement was slow.

He took out an envelope and threw it on the ground between the two of them.

The envelope slid half a foot on the concrete floor and then stopped.

Lu Minghui walked over, bent down to pick it up, and poured out the contents.

Three legal tender notes. Each with a face value of ten yuan.

Using the light from the streetlights shining through the blinds, Lu Minghui glanced at it.

The three banknotes differ in their condition. The differences are visible to the naked eye in terms of paper texture, ink color, and anti-counterfeiting watermark.

"Director Lu," the man spoke, his voice regaining its composure, "these three banknotes are divided into three denominations: superior, middle, and inferior. Can you guess which one is genuine?"

Lu Minghui, with a cigarette between his fingers, ran his fingers over the three banknotes one by one.

The first sheet has slightly rough paper and the ink has a slight smudge.

The second one has a good feel and a clear watermark.

The third sheet has crisp paper, bright ink, and an excellent feel to the engraved intaglio printing.

Lu Minghui drew the third card. The best one.

"This one," Lu Minghui said.

The man shook his head.

"You're wrong." The man looked at Lu Minghui. "The best one and the worst one are both counterfeit."

Lu Minghui did not respond.

He looked down at the "best" banknote in his hand. His fingertips traced the uneven texture of the ink. He felt the paper's resilience, the translucency of the watermark, even the distinctive smell of the ink.

It's even more real than the real thing.

"The paper used by the Central Banknote Printing Plant is domestically produced," the man said mockingly. "While Chengda Company uses the highest quality banknote paper from Japan. They even managed to get their hands on special inks from Germany. Of these three, only the one in the middle that looks ordinary is the genuine article from the Party-State Banknote Printing Plant."

Lu Minghui stubbed out his cigarette on the base of the bronze bell. He used about three-tenths of his strength in his fingers.

Resource allocation, several money printing machines—he thought he had grasped the core of Project Sugi. Now, a counterfeit ten-yuan bill was stuck to his face, so sophisticated that even he couldn't tell the difference.

This isn't just a matter of a few boxes of counterfeit money. It's tons.

It's a matter of the right to mint coins.

He folded the three banknotes and put them into his inner pocket.

"Is this your sincerity?" Lu Minghui raised his eyelids, looking at the man. "Tell me how terrible Project Shan is, and then what? You want me to give up the investigation?"

"No." The man's voice cut through the wind. "We must investigate. We must destroy."

Lu Minghui looked at him.

"My goal isn't just to destroy the counterfeit money distribution network." The man lowered his voice and took a half-step forward. "I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?"

"China Reserve Bank Certificate Template"

Lu Minghui's gaze paused for a moment.

When the Central Reserve Bank notes were first issued, the templates were their lifeline. If they got their hands on them, they could then flood the occupied territories with counterfeit currency.

"You have quite an appetite," Lu Minghui said.

"Director Lu holds confidential positions at No. 76 and enjoys the deep trust of Shinichi Nakajima." The man took a step forward. "Only you can handle this matter."

Lu Minghui looked at him. He didn't say anything.

He paused for a moment. Then he pulled a photograph from his pocket. It was only half a photograph.

The photo was left on the ground between the two of them.

The man glanced down but didn't move.

"Pick it up," Lu Minghui said.

The man bent down to pick up the photo.

The photo shows the half of the picture that Wang Puchen gave him when he met with the kite.

The man turned the photo over. Two words were written on the back.

Paper kite.

The man's expression changed.

Although only half of the photo is visible and the whole picture is unclear, the outline of the long robe and glasses is definitely not him.

"You knew from the beginning that I wasn't a kite." The man raised his head and stared at Lu Minghui.

"If Station Chief Paper Kite didn't even dare to step out of the door and only dared to send messages from the shadows, the Military Intelligence Bureau's Shanghai Station would have been uprooted by the Special Higher Police long ago." Lu Minghui said calmly, "You're trying to fool me with an empty title; that's not enough sincerity. This half-photo is my sincerity."

The man looked at the half-photograph in his hand.

Laughed.

"Impressive." The man put the photo in his pocket. "Director Lu truly lives up to his reputation."

He took off his top hat and lifted his face, which had been hidden by the brim.

A slightly gaunt face. A sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones.

"I am Song Qingyuan," the man introduced himself. "A Central Bureau of Investigation and Statistics agent, codename Ink Trace."

Lu Minghui looked at him.

The character "Song" on Chengda Company's ledger says it all.

"The Central Bureau of Investigation and Statistics (CBIS) has a very long reach," Lu Minghui said.

"We're all serving the Party and the country." The man straightened his back. "Director Lu, let's not beat around the bush. I've infiltrated Chengda Company and figured out the details of the Shan Project. But I can't get the Central Reserve Bank bond template by myself. I need your identity and connections."

Outside the clock tower, the wind whistled sharply through the metal drainpipes. The top hat on the ground rolled halfway, turning over to reveal the sweat stains on its lining.

"Why should I help you?" Lu Minghui said.

The man looked at Lu Minghui.

"I can give you a letter of appointment from the Central Bureau of Investigation and Statistics (CBIS)." The man revealed his trump card. "After the victory of the War of Resistance, you will be a hero of the Party and the State, not a traitor or lackey of the Japanese puppet regime. Colonel rank, Order of the Blue Sky and White Sun. This is the maximum authority I can exercise."

Lu Minghui's lips twitched slightly.

Colonel plus colonel, isn't it still colonel?

"I don't even know where the template for China Reserve Bank bonds is," Lu Minghui said. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Director Lu will have a way." The man said confidently, "Since you are investigating the Shanshan Project, the Central Reserve Bank bonds are an unavoidable hurdle."

Lu Minghui turned around and walked towards the stairwell.

"Director Lu!" the man called out, "Where's your reply?"

Lu Minghui did not turn around.

"Wait for news."

The sound of footsteps gradually faded away down the stairs.

The bronze bell hummed as the wind blew through it.

The top floor of the clock tower.

The short man got up from the ground, brushing the dust off his knees. He straightened his body vertebra by vertebra, straightening his shoulders and returning his spine to its proper position.

His back was even straighter than Song Qingyuan's.

He didn't speak, but instead extended his hand.

Song Qingyuan bent down and handed over the half of the photo.

The short man took the photo, flipped it over, and looked at it for two seconds. A long robe, gold-rimmed glasses, half a face.

He put the photo in his underwear pocket.

"Wang Puchen has really trained a good student." The short man's voice wasn't loud. "No, it's two."

Song Qingyuan did not respond.

The short man turned up his collar again, hunched his shoulders, and slouched his back.

He reverted to his timid and cowardly self.

The sound of two people's footsteps went down the iron spiral staircase, getting farther and farther away, and mingled with the sound of the wind.

Lu Minghui walked out of Notre Dame Cathedral.

Paper Kite came out from the Catholic church across the street, carrying the canvas bag that contained the sniper rifle.

The two men walked without speaking, one after the other, toward the Ford sedan parked on the street corner.

boarding.

"A member of the Central Bureau of Investigation and Statistics (Zhongtong)." Lu Minghui started the car. "He calls himself Song Qingyuan."

"From the Central Bureau of Investigation and Statistics?"

That's what he said.

Paper Kite sat in the passenger seat and lit a cigarette. "What does he want?"

"China Reserve Bank Certificate Template"

Paper Kite exhaled smoke, squinting as it looked ahead: "They can't handle it themselves, so they want you to step on the landmine?"

"He's infiltrated Chengda Company." Lu Minghui turned the steering wheel. "He doesn't care about the counterfeit money; the template for the Central Reserve Bank notes is what he really wants to take back."

"That photo..." Paper Kite glanced at him, then trailed off.

"Only half was given away. After Wang Pucheng's incident, his belongings were confiscated by the Mei Agency. The other half is locked in Nakajima's drawer." Lu Minghui stared at the road ahead. "Two halves of a photo that don't match are just worthless pieces of paper to whoever has them. Nanzo Yunzi sat across from you at the Cinque Terre and didn't suspect a thing. What are you worried about?"

Paper Kite took a drag of his cigarette but didn't reply immediately. He flicked his finger across the cigarette.

"There's also a short guy on the bell tower," Paper Kite said. "He glanced at me in the scope twice, but he stayed hidden behind the bronze bell the whole time and never showed his face."

Lu Minghui tightened his grip on the steering wheel, then relaxed it.

His face has never been shown.

"A gofer," Lu Minghui said. The gofer didn't look like a gofer, and the artist didn't look like an artist.

The kite flicked the cigarette ash out the car window and didn't catch it again.

The car drove into the night.

The three banknotes were still in Lu Minghui's inner pocket, and they were a bit stiff.

"Station Chief," Paper Kite exhaled a puff of smoke, "Li Shiqun has made a move. Lin Zhijiang was beaten, but instead of standing up for him, Li Shiqun sent She Aizhen to inquire about Chengda Company's background. He wants to use She Aizhen to probe the Japanese."

"Let him investigate." Lu Minghui looked at the road ahead. "Nanzo Yunzi has already given her tacit approval. If Li Shiqun doesn't turn Chengda Company upside down, how will Colonel Sakata reveal any flaws?"

"What about Song Qingyuan?"

"Leave him hanging," Lu Minghui said. "He's more anxious than we are."

The following morning.

76 Jessfield Road.

Lu Minghui pushed open the door to the Confidential Affairs Office.

There was a document on the table.

He walked over and picked up the document. It was a letter of appointment signed by Shinichi Nakajima.

Lu Minghui was officially appointed to take full control of Southeast Trading Company and thoroughly investigate the flow of goods.

Lu Minghui threw the letter of appointment on the table.

Nakajima is forcing him to bite Sakata.

He picked up the letter of appointment, folded it twice, and stuffed it into his pocket.

It's time for the kite to find a new place to land.

It's time to move my own safe house.

the phone is ringing.

Lu Minghui answered the call.

"Mr. Akihiro," Nakajima's adjutant's voice was urgent, "Colonel Sakata broke into the Ume Agency half an hour ago. Advisor Nakajima requests your immediate presence."

"Break through?" Lu Minghui picked up the pencil on the table and wrote the character "Break through" on the paper.

"He brought four military police officers." The adjutant paused for a moment. "Sakata demanded that Advisor Nakajima hand over all the accounts of the Southeast Trading Company. He said that after Matsui's death, a batch of high-grade supplies went missing, and he suspected that they were intercepted en route."

Lu Minghui put down the pencil.

That batch of plague serum, or that batch of special ink?

Which storyline Sakata pursues determines who dies first.

"I'll be right there." Lu Minghui hung up the phone.

He stood up, picked up his coat from the back of the chair, and walked out of the office.