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

The warehouse door was ajar.

He Yuzhu reached out and pushed the door, the hinges creaking loudly, the sound particularly jarring in the quiet alley. He stepped aside and waited three seconds. There was no response.

He pushed open the door, and a musty smell mixed with a burnt smell rushed out. The flashlight beam cut through the darkness, and dust danced wildly in the beam.

There are footprints on the ground.

More than one pair. New and old, piled haphazardly together. He Yuzhu crouched down, shining his flashlight on the nearest pair. The sole patterns were clear; military boots, around size 42. The footprints stretched deep into the warehouse.

He stood up and followed the footprints.

Walking to the very back, there was a pile of rotten wood in the corner. The top few pieces had been turned over, and there was a complete handprint on the plank, the dust wiped away.

He moved the logs aside, revealing a wooden box.

Pry open the box.

Inside was a radio. It was American-made; he recognized the model—he'd seen it on the Korean battlefield. Next to the radio was a notebook with a manila cover, the edges worn.

He opened his notebook. Strings of numbers, densely packed, were handwritten.

Codebook.

He Yuzhu tucked the notebook into his coat pocket, stood up, and scanned the warehouse with his flashlight. There was an enamel mug in the corner; he walked over and touched it. It was cool, but the inside was still damp.

No more than two hours.

Old Sun's office was filled with smoke.

He pushed the map in front of He Yuzhu without saying a word.

He Yuzhu looked down. Three places were circled on the map, the red circles were crooked and not like Lao Sun's usual handwriting.

"Did you draw this?"

Old Sun shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

"How could my drawing be this ugly? Who shoved it under my door in the middle of the night?"

He Yuzhu paused for a moment on the map.

"When?"

"Last night. When I got back to my office, there it was stuck under the door." Old Sun stared at him. "Is your thing even reliable?"

"What the hell?"

"Don't play dumb. It's the one that can be located."

He Yuzhu didn't answer, but folded the map and put it in his pocket.

Old Sun stood up and picked up his coat.

"Let's go. Stop talking nonsense."

The second location is in the south of the city, an old residential area.

The landlady was sitting by the door picking vegetables when she saw two strangers approaching, and she paused. He Yuzhu took out his ID, and she squinted at it for a long time.

"Renting a room? Yes, there is. A man, around forty years old, doesn't talk much. He's been living there for six months."

He Yuzhu took out the photo of the scarred face.

The old lady took it and looked at it closely for a long time.

"It looks like it. Somewhat like it. But he doesn't have this scar on his face."

He Yuzhu and Lao Sun exchanged a glance.

"When did he leave?"

The old lady thought about it.

"It was the day before yesterday. He left in the middle of the night. I heard a noise, got up to check, and he was gone. The house was spotless, not even a piece of trash was left."

He Yuzhu entered the room. The room was indeed clean; he had lifted the bed frame and searched the corners, but found nothing. He squatted down and shone his flashlight into the cracks in the floor.

A small piece of paper was stuck in the crack.

He used his fingernail to pry it out and unfold it.

Half a sheet of paper, with the words "...equipment list..." printed on it, and a line of handwritten numbers below, was torn in half.

He put the piece of paper away.

The third location is in the west of the city, in an abandoned warehouse area.

He Yuzhu searched for half an hour before finally finding the entrance to the air-raid shelter. The entrance was covered with tarpaulin and weeds, and when he lifted it, a putrid stench wafted out.

He turned on his flashlight and crouched down as he walked inside.

The cave was deep, and footsteps echoed inside. After walking for about five minutes, a light appeared ahead—not the exit, but a kerosene lamp, still lit.

He Yuzhu turned off his flashlight and crept along the wall.

Around the corner was a small space. A table and a chair. A notebook lay open on the table, and a radio sat beside it. The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered, casting swaying shadows on the wall.

He walked over and touched the enamel mug on the table. It was cool, but the inside was still damp—he had just left.

He opened the notebook. It was an account book, filled with various numbers and dates. He couldn't understand it, but it was definitely useful.

The radio's indicator light was still on. He put on gloves, turned off the power, and picked up the entire radio.

There was a piece of paper underneath.

Half a sheet.

"Target locked..."

The rest was torn off.

He Yuzhu stared at the half-line of words and pressed his hand on the table.

He turned around abruptly.

A soft footstep came from the direction of the cave entrance.

I waited for five minutes. Nothing happened.

He Yuzhu crawled out of the air-raid shelter, while Old Sun was squatting outside smoking. Seeing him come out, Old Sun stood up.

"A discovery?"

He Yuzhu handed him the half-sheet of paper.

Old Sun stared for a few seconds, then his expression changed.

"There's someone inside."

He Yuzhu nodded.

"And the rank is not low. During these several relocations, someone tipped them off."

Old Sun stubbed out his cigarette.

"We'll talk about it when we get back."

Back in his office, He Yuzhu spread the items out on the table.

Radio, notebook, half a sheet of paper, map, and that piece of paper pried out from a crack in the floor.

Old Sun flipped through the notebook.

"We need to find experts to decipher this."

He Yuzhu pointed to the map.

"These three places are all military industrial units. He's been keeping a close eye on them."

Old Sun looked at him.

"Old He, this guy is smarter than we thought. He was able to move things right under our noses, someone must have tipped him off."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

It was pitch black outside the window; I couldn't see anything.

He remembered that before he left home earlier that day, He Nianhua had clung to his leg and wouldn't let go. The little thing had just learned to say "Dada" and had been saying it all morning, drooling all over his pants. Qin Huairu laughed beside him and said, "Your daughter can't bear to part with you."

How old is she? She can barely move a few steps while holding onto the wall.

If those people were...

He turned around.

Old Sun was still there, watching him.

"Old He?"

He Yuzhu spoke, his voice not loud.

"Find him. By any means necessary."

When I got home, the yard was quiet.

The light in the west wing was still on; Qin Huairu was waiting for him. He stood in the courtyard, not in a hurry to go inside.

The moon was bright, illuminating the alleyway in a white light. He glanced eastward, but it was pitch black there, and he couldn't see anything.

But he always felt that something was there.

After standing there for a few seconds, he turned around and pushed the door open to go inside.

After the door closed, the alley became quiet again.

After a long time, a red dot flashed in the darkness to the east.

Cigarette butt.

It was turned off again.