Holding the original shares, they fought all the way to the Korean War!

The streets of Jinan were wider than Zhou Tianyang had imagined.

On both sides of the main street, shops lined up one after another, most of which had their doors removed.

The workers are watering and sweeping the floor at the entrance.

Occasionally, a few rickshaws would drive by on the street, the drivers running very fast with their bare feet.

Zhou Tianyang walked ahead, his pace neither fast nor slow.

His gaze seemed to casually sweep over the shops and pedestrians on the street, but in reality, he had taken in every detail of the street.

A cigarette vendor was squatting on the street corner, with two or three people standing awkwardly in front of him.

They seemed to be chatting casually, but their eyes would occasionally sweep towards the street corner.

Ma Yong followed about five steps behind Zhou Tianyang, carrying a cloth bag in his left hand.

He looked like a servant who had come to the city with his employer on business.

He walked with his head down, but his peripheral vision never left his surroundings.

Liu Ping walked at the very back, his steps much more steady than in the previous days.

He was wearing a long gown and a top hat, and was still carrying the wicker trunk in his hand.

He looked like a schoolteacher who had come to Jinan to stay with relatives.

He felt more at ease in this environment than on the mountain road.

Perhaps it was because of the years I worked in the rear.

He had grown accustomed to this down-to-earth atmosphere.

The three walked west from the city gate, crossed two streets, and turned into an alley that was narrower than the main street.

The houses on both sides of the alley were noticeably more dilapidated than those on the main street.

At the end of the alley is a small square.

There is a tree in the center of the square, whose canopy covers most of the square.

The Gospel Church is located diagonally opposite the tree.

It was a small shop.

The shop's door panels were removed and leaned against the wall, revealing several rows of wooden shelves inside.

The shelves were scattered with things like oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, needles and thread, toilet paper, and candles.

There were no customers in the shop at the moment, and a man around fifty years old was sitting behind the counter.

Zhou Tianyang stopped in front of the grocery store.

His gaze swept over the goods displayed on the counter.

Liu Ping walked over to him and also glanced at the sign.

"Shall we go in and take a look?"

Zhou Tianyang asked in a low voice.

Liu Ping nodded.

The three of them entered the grocery store one after the other.

The man behind the counter looked up and glanced at them.

His gaze lingered on Zhou Tianyang for a moment, then shifted to Liu Ping.

Finally, it landed on the cloth bag in Ma Yong's hand.

He didn't rush to speak, waiting for the person to speak first.

Liu Ping walked to the counter, placed the rattan box at his feet, and then spoke.

"Boss, do you sell soy sauce here?"

The man behind the counter glanced at him, his tone indifferent.

"Yes, how much do you want?"

Liu Ping said.

"Give me a pound."

The man stood up, turned around, took a ceramic pot from the shelf behind him, and then took an empty bowl, placing them on the scale.

As he scooped out the soy sauce, he casually asked a question.

"Judging from your accent, you don't sound like a local. Where are you from?"

Liu Ping answered naturally.

"I'm from Nanjing, and I was looking for a relative, but I couldn't find one."

The man poured the scooped-out soy sauce into a rough porcelain bottle, placed it on the counter, and glanced at Liu Ping again.

"From Nanjing?"

"That's not close."

"What kind of relatives?"

Liu Ping didn't rush to answer. He first took out a few copper coins and placed them on the counter, then said unhurriedly:

"His surname is Wang, and I heard he does business in the western part of the city."

The man's hand paused on the scale.

Then he put down the scale, looked at Liu Ping, and lowered his voice a few decibels.

There are many people with the surname Wang. Which one are you looking for?

Liu Ping met his gaze, his tone remaining calm.

"A Mr. Wang from Kaifeng, I heard he's been in this area for many years."

The man did not respond immediately.

He was silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on Liu Ping's face for several seconds, as if trying to discern something.

Then he nodded slightly.

He turned and glanced at the small door behind the shop, then turned back, lowering his voice even further.

"Are you referring to Mr. Wang from Kaifeng?"

"He did live in Jinan, but he moved away last year."

Liu Ping didn't press further, he just nodded.

"I remembered the wrong place. Sorry to bother you."

The man didn't say anything more, but simply pushed the bottle of soy sauce on the counter towards Liu Ping.

Zhou Tianyang stood beside the shelf without saying a word from beginning to end.

He observed the man's movements and expressions the entire time.

These minor details are not noticeable to the average person.

But to someone like him who deals with life and death year after year, every point is telling.

The code was matched.

Inquire about the goods, strike up a conversation, formally make contact, and confirm the secret code for the meeting.

This person should be Wang Jinghe.

Sure enough, a moment later.

The man stood up, gestured with his chin toward the small door at the back of the shop, and spoke in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft.

"Let's talk in the backyard."

He pushed open the small door, stepped aside to make way for them to go in.

Zhou Tianyang walked in first, Liu Ping followed behind, and Ma Yong was the last to enter.

He casually closed the small door slightly.

Behind the door was a narrow passageway with empty sacks and old wooden crates piled on both sides, leading to a small courtyard.

The man walked over to the square table and sat down.

Then he looked at Liu Ping.

"You must be Comrade Liu Ping?"

Liu Ping sat down opposite him and nodded.

"it's me."

The man then looked at Zhou Tianyang, his gaze carrying a hint of scrutiny.

"Who is this?"

"Zhou Tianyang, commander of the Second New Regiment of the 386th Brigade of the Eighth Route Army."

"I was ordered to escort Comrade Liu Ping to Shanghai."

Zhou Tianyang's answer was concise and clear, without any unnecessary words.

The man's brow twitched slightly.

It was as if the name reminded him of something, but he didn't ask further, he just nodded.

He tapped his fingers lightly twice on the table, his tone much calmer than when he was in the shop.

"Headquarters should have already briefed you on the situation in Jinan."

"My shop is safe for now. The neighbors are all old acquaintances, and no one will gossip."

Liu Ping placed the rattan box on the table, his tone becoming more serious.

"We need to rest here for a while and prepare supplies and documents for the next leg of the journey."

The man nodded, stood up, and walked to a wooden box in the corner of the yard.

He rummaged through the contents for a while, then took out an envelope and handed it over.

"This is a pass prepared for you; it can be used at several checkpoints in southern Shandong."

Zhou Tianyang took the envelope, but without opening it, he put it directly into his pocket.

"What are the plans for the next leg of the journey?"

The man sat down again and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Tomorrow you will take the official road towards Tai'an."

"After you arrive in Tai'an, do not enter the city. Go around from outside the city and head towards Qufu."

"After you arrive in Qufu, go to the Confucius Temple in the east of the city and find an old man surnamed Zhang. He will meet you."

He paused, his gaze becoming serious.

"The road will be even more difficult after Qufu."

"Once you get there, you'll naturally know what to do next."