Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

The train station at 3 PM is at its busiest time.

People carrying large bags and small packages, holding children, and carrying chicken coops crowded the entrance to the station. A vendor selling tea eggs pushed his cart through the crowd, the steam and aroma filling the air. The announcement over the loudspeaker repeatedly announced that the train to Shanghai was about to start boarding, but the sound was drowned out by the cacophony of voices.

Yang Xiaobing squatted behind a pillar at the entrance of the waiting room, his eyes fixed on the entrance. Old Lu and his men were scattered around, disguised as cigarette vendors, luggage carriers, and newspaper readers. He Yuzhu stood by the window of the second-floor waiting room, looking down and taking in the entire station square.

Zheng Huaiyuan hasn't arrived yet.

Yang Xiaobing glanced at his watch. There were still twenty minutes until ticket check-in.

"They're here."

Old Lu's voice came through the earphones, slightly static. He Yuzhu looked towards the square and saw a person in a gray trench coat walking towards the entrance. He was walking quickly, head slightly down, carrying a brown leather suitcase.

Zheng Huaiyuan.

Yang Xiaobing stood up, went around from behind the pillar, and followed him. Old Lu led his men to surround them from both sides.

Zheng Huaiyuan walked to the entrance of the station and was about to go in when he suddenly stopped—he saw a figure flash by behind a pillar.

He didn't turn around and continued walking forward, but changed direction, heading towards the densest part of the crowd.

Yang Xiaobing sensed something was wrong and quickened his pace.

Zheng Huaiyuan suddenly turned around and swung the suitcase in his hand, aiming it at Yang Xiaobing's head. Yang Xiaobing dodged to the side, and the suitcase smashed against the iron railing next to him with a loud "bang," the lock broke open, and clothes scattered all over the ground.

Zheng Huaiyuan had no intention of running away—taking advantage of Yang Xiaobing's moment of dodge, he kicked Yang Xiaobing in the stomach. Yang Xiaobing shrank back, but didn't completely dodge, and was grazed on the thigh, staggering a step.

"Damn, he's got some skills." Yang Xiaobing spat.

Zheng Huaiyuan didn't speak, but pulled a switchblade from his pocket and snapped it open. The surrounding people reacted immediately, shouting, "Murder!" The crowd erupted in chaos, scattering in all directions.

Old Lu and his men tried to rush over, but they were swept away by the crowd and stumbled about.

Zheng Huaiyuan lunged at Yang Xiaobing with a knife, the tip aimed straight for his neck. Instead of retreating, Yang Xiaobing advanced, using his left hand to parry Zheng Huaiyuan's wrist while simultaneously thrusting his right fist towards Yang's face. Zheng Huaiyuan slashed the blade, aiming for Yang Xiaobing's arm. Yang Xiaobing was a fraction of a second too slow; his sleeve was torn, and his skin stung with pain.

"Xiao Bing!" Old Lu exclaimed anxiously.

Ignoring his wound, Yang Xiaobing seized the moment when Zheng Huaiyuan's knife missed its mark, lunged at him, grabbed his waist, and slammed him to the ground. The two rolled on the ground, Zheng Huaiyuan still wildly swinging his knife, nearly stabbing Yang Xiaobing in the back several times.

Old Lu finally rushed over and stepped on Zheng Huaiyuan's wrist, which was holding the knife, making a cracking sound. Zheng Huaiyuan cried out in pain, loosened his grip, and the knife fell to the ground.

Several people rushed forward and pinned Zheng Huaiyuan down.

He Yuzhu came down from the second floor and walked up to him.

Zheng Huaiyuan lay on the ground, his face pressed against the cold cement, his head turned to the side, his eyes filled with resentment.

"He Yuzhu...you son of a bitch...I was just one step away, just one step away from getting on the bus!"

He Yuzhu squatted down, looked at him, and didn't respond to his words. Instead, he suddenly reached out and brushed off non-existent dust from his shoulder.

"Consultant Zheng, you spent half a year at the steel rolling mill, teaching those young people technology every day. They called you 'teacher.' When you were teaching them, did you feel guilty?"

Zheng Huaiyuan was stunned for a moment, and the muscles on his face twitched.

He Yuzhu stood up, looked down at him, and spoke in a low voice, but every word was like a nail.

"What you taught them was real, but you yourself were a complete liar from beginning to end. That doesn't feel good, does it?"

Zheng Huaiyuan opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He Yuzhu turned and walked towards the car, waving his hand behind his back.

"Take him away. Let him think about it carefully in the car. Do those kids he's taught over the past six months even know what kind of teacher they call him?"

The lights were very bright in the interrogation room of the security department.

Zheng Huaiyuan sat in the chair, handcuffed. Old Sun opened the leather suitcase and took things out one by one.

A change of clothes, toiletries, two books, a notebook, and a stack of papers.

Old Sun picked up the stack of papers and flipped through them.

Internal combustion engine drawings. Cylinder block structure, piston material, fuel injection system.

He placed the blueprints on the table and pushed them in front of Zheng Huaiyuan.

"Explain."

Zheng Huaiyuan glanced at the blueprint, then lowered his head again.

"Personal study materials. Isn't it normal for tech people to collect some materials?"

Old Sun didn't say anything, but took out a small item from the bottom of the box.

Miniature camera. Japanese-made, very new.

He placed the camera next to the drawings.

"Is this also for studying?"

Zheng Huaiyuan stared at the camera and remained silent for a long time.

"Can I have a cigarette?"

Old Sun pushed the cigarette and matches over. Zheng Huaiyuan, handcuffed, struggled to strike the match; his hand trembled slightly, and he finally lit it after several attempts. He took a deep drag, exhaling smoke from his nose.

"What can you do to me if I don't tell?"

Old Sun leaned back in his chair.

What do you think?

Zheng Huaiyuan took another drag of his cigarette.

"My wife doesn't know anything about me. She genuinely believes I'm a consultant at a steel mill. My child just started elementary school."

Old Sun didn't say anything.

Zheng Huaiyuan slowly stubbed out his cigarette on the table.

The Central Intelligence Agency (CIA).

Old Sun looked at him.

"Task?"

Zheng Huaiyuan raised his head, his eyes bloodshot.

"Recruit technical personnel. Collect production data on internal combustion engines, high-speed steel, and military products. Get as much as you can. Also, investigate one person."

Old Sun leaned forward.

"Who?"

Zheng Huaiyuan stared at him.

"He Yuzhu. The higher-ups want to know his background."

Old Sun's expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Who is the person above me?"

Zheng Huaiyuan shook his head.

"There's no fixed person online. It's always a different person. The last time it was Old Man Tong, but he ran away."

Old Sun stared at him.

"Who else?"

Zheng Huaiyuan remained silent for a while.

"There's one more."

Old Sun waited for him to continue.

Zheng Huaiyuan raised his head.

"A high-ranking official at the steel rolling mill, codenamed Old K. That's all I know about him; I've never seen him in person."

He Yuzhu was standing outside the door. When he heard this, his hand paused on the doorknob.

Old K.

Senior management of the steel rolling mill.

He pushed open the door and walked up to Zheng Huaiyuan.

"Who is Old K?"

Zheng Huaiyuan looked at him.

"I don't know. I really don't know. Every time we contact each other, it's him who reaches out to me; I can't reach him."

He Yuzhu didn't speak. His mind raced through every single person in the factory's upper echelons: the factory director, the several deputy directors, the chief engineer, the party secretary... Everyone was a suspect, yet no one seemed like one.

He glanced at Old Sun.

Old Sun nodded slightly, meaning: He wasn't lying.

He Yuzhu walked to the window; it was already dark outside. The streetlights in the factory area were on, a few dim yellow lights swaying slightly in the wind.

"Zheng Huaiyuan." He had his back to the man and spoke softly.

"How many people have you met in the past six months? Who have you eaten with? Who greeted you? Who praised your skills? Who spent time alone with you? Think it through and tell me everything from beginning to end."

He turned around and looked at Zheng Huaiyuan.

"If you miss one, you won't have another chance to think about it."

Zheng Huaiyuan looked at him and suddenly shivered.