Agent: Intercepting Yu Manli at the start!

Zheng Yaoxian has handed over all authority to Zhou Xiao and has not shown his face.

Chen Shan began, "Xu's Bookstore just put up a 'Today's Inventory' sign. I need to get to the phone booth at Houshipo Post Office before 10 a.m. to keep watch on his phone."

"Go ahead." Zhou Xiao leaned back in his chair, his tone firm. "Answer the phone, proceed as usual, and don't let a word slip."

Chen Shan nodded: "Understood."

Guan Yongshan rubbed his knuckles together and said slowly, "Should we transfer a few people from the Second Division? Zhou Haichao from the Action Section is quick-witted and ruthless; he might be able to help you keep things under control."

Zhou Haichao?

Zhou Xiao sneered inwardly.

He's clever, but deep down he's calculating—power is his priority, integrity is secondary, and he can turn on you faster than flipping through a book. Keeping him around is like having a gun quietly turn against you one day.

Zhou Xiao saw right through Guan Yongshan's scheme: to use this operation to enhance Zhou Haichao's resume so he could be promoted. After all, the cigarettes, alcohol, gold bars, and luxury watches stuffed into his drawers were all part of the plan. However, Zhou Haichao lacked the seniority and combat achievements to rise to the top, which is why he set his sights on Zhou Xiao as a "stepping stone."

Trying to climb over him to get ahead?

No way.

"Director Guan," Zhou Xiao looked directly at him, his tone calm but leaving no room for negotiation, "I can handle this on my own, I don't need any help."

Guan Yongshan was taken aback, then laughed twice: "Brother Zhou Xiao is indeed a man of great courage! Sixth Brother has a discerning eye; he didn't misjudge him."

Zhou Xiao stood up, straightened his cuffs, and suddenly looked up, his gaze sharp as a blade: "By the way, Director Guan—this operation is only to be known by the three of us."

He paused, his voice low but each word ringing in the air: "If even a whisper of this gets out, and Araki escapes... his position as section chief will be in jeopardy; whether he'll even keep his head is another matter."

After saying that, he smiled slightly: "So, what Director Guan should do right now is to keep his mouth shut and protect his position—don't rush to drag others down with you."

It's like striking a mountain to scare a tiger—it carries no anger, yet it sends chills down your spine.

Guan Yongshan's smile froze for a moment, then he quickly nodded, "Of course, of course."

After the three of them briefly finalized the details, Zhou Xiao took his leave.

He had already figured out the details from "The Awakening of Insects": Araki was hiding in the old Parisian barbershop.

The place was right next to the riverbank, just a few streets away from the second one. It had a stylish storefront, with walls covered in reliefs and crystal chandeliers, standing facing the street where cars and horses constantly passed by. The owner was a true mountain town native, speaking with a rustic accent, and his account books were so thick they could stop bullets—it was a perfect place for hidden talents.

Zhou Xiao got into a rickshaw, drove around the streets and alleys of the mountain city twice to get his bearings, and then pushed open the glass door of the Old Paris Barber Shop.

"Sir, please come in!"

As soon as I stepped across the threshold, a waiter approached me with a beaming smile and a perfectly bent back. "Haircut, shampoo, massage, or shave? Which would you like?"

The shop was bustling with noise; the swishing of razors against belts, the hum of hairdryers, and the laughter of customers mingled together. The shampooing area was on the second floor, while the haircutting station was on the first floor.

Zhou Xiao glanced around and said unhurriedly, "Wash your hair."

"Alright!" The waiter led the way, striking up a conversation as they went: "First time patronizing our shop?"

"First time." Zhou Xiao paused, his right hand casually resting on the holster at his waist. The leather holster gleamed coldly under the light. "If you don't handle this well, I'll tear this shop down and rebuild it."

People carrying guns are either patrol officers or secret agents.

The waiter, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, bowed repeatedly, "Oh, don't worry! This is your first time, you're a very important customer. Everything's on the house today!"

"You know what's good for you." Zhou Xiao laughed loudly and stepped onto the stairs. "Since this is a high-class place, there should be private rooms for getting your hair washed, right? Arrange one for me."

Old Paris is indeed one of the most respectable shops in the mountain city, with private rooms available at double the price, offering better privacy.

"Yes! I'll make it for you right away!" The waiter grinned, his eyes practically disappearing into his smile. "I guarantee you'll be comfortable!"

"become."

Guided by the staff, Zhou Xiao strode into a VIP hair washing room, sat down on a leather chair, and ordered the service.

He was playing the role of an arrogant and domineering secret agent, and that tyrannical air had to come from the very core of his being.

The moment Zhou Xiao stepped into the Old Paris Barber Shop, he sensed something was wrong—a tense stillness hung in the air, like a taut bowstring, silent yet oppressive. This was exactly as the intelligence had described: Araki and his henchmen were holed up in this building.

Haircuts on the first floor, perms and dyeing on the second floor, and the third floor? No unauthorized visitors allowed. Even the stairwell has a "Under Repair" sign hanging on it, and there's a half-smoked cigarette tucked under the door.

At this moment, in the tea room on the east side of the third floor, Araki Yuichi was kneeling on a low couch, holding a teapot in one hand and a teacup in the other, slowly brewing Tieguanyin tea. The rising steam made the thick beard on his chin gleam with a bluish-gray luster.

He had just hung up the phone with Chen Shan, and the whole game was still under his control.

This sense of control and relaxation brought a slight smile to his lips.

He was none other than Araki Yui—the most ruthless character in the Shang Mansion's Special Agent Section. His mind was as sharp as a knife, his actions as cold as frost, and he could turn on someone faster than flipping through a book. He was one of the top three most notorious criminals in the Military Intelligence Bureau's files.

click, click, click...

A few crisp sounds of leather shoes came from the stairs.

Chida Eiko pushed open the door and entered, her breathing slightly rapid, but she managed to keep her steps steady.

Araki didn't even lift his eyelids, but gently pushed the freshly poured cup of tea to the side of the table: "Eiko, what's wrong, you're in such a hurry?"

"A member of the Military Intelligence Bureau came downstairs." She spoke calmly, but her fingertips subtly twirled on her sleeve. "He was lying in the hair salon when he came in and pulled out a gun, pointing it at the waiter's temple."

Washing hair? It's a common thing.

But this wasn't an ordinary barbershop—it was their deepest hidden operation.

Araki blew away the foam, took a sip of tea, and asked, "What's it like outside?"

"The streets are still the same, rickshaws are still pulling, newsboys are still shouting, and even the police officers didn't stand for more than half a second during the changing of the guard."

"Let him be." He pushed the second cup of tea forward. "Have a sip of tea and calm down. It's just a flying insect that has wandered into the hive, what's the panic? The more you shake, the more likely it is to let in some air."

"Yes!" Chida Eiko lowered her head to sip her tea, then suddenly looked up. "Section Chief... do you really believe he stumbled upon it by accident?"

"Of course." Araki set down his teacup, the porcelain bottom making a crisp sound. "If the Military Intelligence Bureau had figured out that this was our hideout, they should have sealed off the streets and deployed surveillance long ago—at least within three kilometers, not even a stray cat could escape their watch. But now? They can even let a sparrow fly by freely."

He paused, then smirked, "The barbershop is right next to the Second Bureau of the Military Intelligence Bureau. Which agent can't come in for a haircut? Brandishing a gun? Just some greenhorn trying to intimidate people. Even his holster is polished to a shine. Doesn't look like someone who does big things?"

This may sound crude, but the principle is sound.

Spies always operate stealthily; there's no reason for them to swagger around with guns. If the Military Intelligence Bureau were really going to make a move, they should have already laid out a massive net—but everything seems normal right now, which confirms Araki's judgment: it's just a bunch of clueless newbies who stumbled in by chance.

"Should we send someone to keep an eye on him?" Chida Eiko probed.

Araki waved his hand, as if shooing away a buzzing fly: "No need. Mobilizing troops for a flea would make us look guilty. Besides—who has eyes following them while they're washing their hair? It'd be strange if they didn't attract attention."

"Yes!" She nodded in agreement, but secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Araki never imagined that his life was being held in the palm of the hand by the "flea" he spoke of.

Old Paris Barber Shop, VIP Box.

Zhou Xiao lay back in the large chair, letting the warm water flow over his scalp.

The woman washing his hair was in her early twenties. She had nimble fingers and the pressure was just right. When she pressed her fingertips on his temples, even the stiff veins behind his ears slowly softened.

"Young lady, how many years have you been doing this?" he asked lazily, his eyes closed.

"It's been almost five years, sir. Are you feeling comfortable?"

"Yes, you're skilled."

The whole process was unhurried: rinsing, kneading, pressing, applying, rubbing... taking a full hour. Midway through, someone brought in tea leaves; the tea leaves unfurled in the celadon gaiwan, and the water was clear and bright.

About sixty minutes later, Zhou Xiao suddenly opened his eyes, smiled at her, and said, "It's a pity that someone as beautiful as you is squatting here washing people's hair."

The girl paused, then smiled somewhat bewilderedly: "It's not hard work, it's really not unfair..."

"I said it's a pity, and it is a pity." Before he finished speaking, he flipped his wrist and precisely struck her neck with the edge of his palm.

Boom!

He collapsed softly to the ground without even uttering a groan.

He had been waiting for this moment for an hour—for Araki to completely relax and treat the shop as a safe bathhouse.

He knew perfectly well: the moment he stepped inside, countless eyes were already fixed on him. The tea server, the sweeper, even someone passing by and knocking on the door—they could all be Araki's informants. To act rashly? That would be like walking into a minefield with a torch; before he even pushed open the door to the private room, the alarm bells would already be ringing in the tea room on the third floor.

But things are different now. Time has passed, vigilance has subsided, and even the air feels more relaxed.

Zhou Xiao is as thin as a needle, yet as steady as a rock.

He helped the girl up, gently laid her on the sofa, locked the door of the private room, and then opened the window—with a twist of his body, he leaped out of the window like a hawk, closing the window shut before landing.

He rode a rickshaw around this building three times. The second-floor window frames and the third-floor window sills were perfectly aligned, with just enough space between them for him to use his hands and feet for leverage.

How can you capture Araki through the main entrance?

For Zhou Xiao, climbing the wall was nothing more than tiptoeing to pick fruit—the carved eaves, cast iron railings, and protruding window lintels of the European-style building were all natural footholds.

He scurried up the wall, quickly reaching the third-floor window in no time. He pressed his ear against the cold glass for five seconds, making sure there was no sound, before quietly turning the latch.

Click—

The window slammed open, and he slid in sideways, his toes landing so softly that the floor didn't even creak.

Dead silence.

The third floor was so quiet you could hear dust falling.

The room where Zhou Xiao was hiding was nominally called a tea room, but in reality it was a small storeroom filled with tea materials and utensils. The space was small, but it was crammed with celadon covered bowls, purple clay teapots, tin cans, and layers upon layers of various tea leaves, with a faint aroma mixed with the astringent smell of aged wood.

Araki Yui was addicted to tea.

click, click, click...

The sound of leather shoes stepping on the wooden floor came from afar, unhurried yet like tapping on the eardrums.

Zhou Xiao ducked, pressed himself against the shadow of the door frame, and breathed very shallowly, waiting for the person to push the door open—then he would pounce like a cheetah, delivering a fatal blow.

coming!

The footsteps stopped outside the door, the door hinges clicked softly, and a figure stepped in.

It's not Araki Yui.

It was a man in a dark gray Zhongshan suit, with a lean build, prominent wrist bones, and a small tea stain still on his cuff. Judging from his attire, he was a trusted confidant who ran errands for Araki.

Just as he turned his back to the door and reached for the tin can on the shelf, Zhou Xiao suddenly attacked! His right hand locked his throat, his left hand gripped the back of his neck, and with a twist of his shoulders and hips, he gripped and twisted his body—

"Click!"

The crack was short and sharp, like a withered branch breaking. The man didn't even have time to groan before his body went limp and slid to the ground, his eyes still open, but his pupils had already lost their light.