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

When the door to the archives opened, He Yuzhu stood for a long time in front of the cabinet labeled "Communications - Radio Direction Finding." He pulled out the document and opened to the first page. Densely packed circuit diagrams and calculation formulas, the pen lines gleaming a dark blue under the light. Lin Jianguo stood in the doorway, holding a notebook, waiting for him to speak.

"Can your communications research institute make this kind of thing?"

Lin Jianguo took the book and flipped through it, stopping on the third page. He looked up, his glasses reflecting the light, obscuring his eyes.

"Dean, I've never seen this thing before."

That's why I let you do it.

"How long will it take?" Lin Jianguo closed the document and ran his fingers along the cover.

"You're asking me?"

Lin Jianguo remained silent for a while. He opened and closed the documents repeatedly, as if weighing something.

"Three months. Let's start by building a site and see how it goes."

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to Lin Jianguo. The sky outside was overcast, looking like it was about to snow.

"The three stations in Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou will be built simultaneously."

Lin Jianguo nearly dropped the documents in his hand. He quickly clenched them and took two steps forward.

"Three? Dean, I only have twelve people under me, and I haven't even seen that equipment in person yet..."

"One month." He Yuzhu turned around and looked him in the eyes. "I need to see a signal within a month."

Lin Jianguo opened his mouth. He looked at He Yuzhu's face, which was unpleasant, but not angry; it was the kind of face that made it impossible to continue speaking. He clutched the documents tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"Okay." He paused for a moment, "I'll make the arrangements when I get back."

He turned and left. He Yuzhu stood by the window, watching his figure disappear at the end of the corridor. He took the key out of his pocket, clenched it in his hand for a moment, then put it back. The sky outside the window darkened, the streetlights came on, and the dim yellow light shone on the courtyard wall, making the gray paint gleam with a dark gold.

When He Yuzhu went to check on the open space at the foot of Fragrant Hills, the antenna hadn't been erected yet. Several workers were squatting on the ground digging a pit, with piles of cement and sand beside them. Lin Jianguo, wearing a hard hat, stood by a pit, holding blueprints in his hand, comparing them to the dimensions inside. His cotton-padded coat was open, revealing a section of his sweater at the collar, and the cuffs were rubbed black.

"Dean, is this place alright?" He turned around, streaks of sweat washing over his face, revealing streaks of grime.

He Yuzhu looked around. There were mountains on three sides and a plain on the other. In the distance, the outline of Beijing could be seen, hazy and gray, as if shrouded in a layer of fog.

"Raise the antenna higher so we can see into the city."

Lin Jianguo nodded, turned around, and continued directing the workers. His voice was hoarse, as if he had been shouting for too long. He Yuzhu stood there for a while, then turned and left.

On the way back, Yang Xiaobing drove, with He Yuzhu in the back seat. The car bounced violently, and the fields outside the window seemed to recede backward. Yang Xiaobing glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"Commander, is Lin Jianguo's side okay?"

He Yuzhu didn't answer. He leaned against the car window, looking at the barren mountains in the distance. The car's heater was broken, and cold air was seeping in through the cracks in the window; he shrank his neck.

Shanghai Railway Station is located in Longhua, not far from the airport. He Yuzhu didn't go; Lin Jianguo called to tell him.

The call came at 11 p.m. He Yuzhu was already in bed. When he answered, he could hear wind whistling on the other end, like it was tearing something apart.

"Dean, the antenna at Shanghai Station is up and running." Lin Jianguo's voice was intermittent, its volume fluctuating due to the wind. "I tested it, and I can receive a signal, but there's a lot of static. It sounds like there's some kind of interference."

He Yuzhu sat up on the kang (a heated brick bed). "Adjust the direction. Adjust the frequency. Adjust until it's clear."

There was a moment of silence on the other end. He heard Lin Jianguo talking to someone next to him, his voice very low, but he couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Dean," Lin Jianguo spoke again, "the equipment isn't very stable. The humidity there is high, and the vacuum tubes are prone to burning out. Two have already burned out today."

"Where are the spare parts?"

"I brought some. But at this rate of burning, it won't last more than a few days."

He Yuzhu held the microphone and thought for a moment. "Transfer from Beijing. If that's not enough, buy more from Nanjing. Don't skimp on anything."

Lin Jianguo responded. The phone call ended, and He Yuzhu lay on the kang (heated brick bed), listening to the wind outside. He Nianhua turned over, her small hand resting on his face—warm and soft. He gently placed that small hand back under the covers and turned over as well. His mind was filled with that piece of equipment; the vacuum tube was glowing red-hot, then snapped shut.

Guangzhou Railway Station was built at the foot of Baiyun Mountain. He Yuzhu didn't go; Yang Xiaobing went to see it.

When he returned, Yang Xiaobing was standing at the office door, his expression unreadable. He was wearing a newly issued cotton-padded jacket, the collar turned up, and his face was tanned dark red.

"Commander, the antenna in Guangzhou is set up." He paused, "but it's hot there, and the equipment is prone to malfunctions. Lin Jianguo said we should prepare a few extra sets of components, just in case."

He Yuzhu looked up. "Have him prepare some. If not, bring some from Beijing."

Yang Xiaobing responded, turned to leave, but then stopped.

"Commander, what are the people over there saying? If this thing is discovered, won't it alert the enemy?"

He Yuzhu looked at him. "Yes. So we have to be quick. Cast the net before they find out."

Yang Xiaobing nodded and left.

He Yuzhu sat alone in his office. He took the codebook out of the drawer, turned to the page, and read, "There are people in the capital; the time is right." He stared at that page for a long time, until the edges were curled up. Outside the window, the sun peeked through the clouds, shining on the courtyard wall, turning the gray paint a pale gold.

He closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer.

The signal was received on the seventeenth day.

The phone rang at two in the morning. He Yuzhu sat up on the kang (a heated brick bed) and groped his way to answer the receiver in the dark. It was Lin Jianguo's voice on the other end, very low, but with an undeniable tremor.

"Dean, there's some activity at Beijing Station."

He Yuzhu tightened his grip on the microphone. "What's the content?"

"It hasn't been deciphered yet. But the frequency matches; it's exactly the same as Wang Defa's."

He paused, his voice lowering. "Dean, that kid's first time on duty, his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't hold the pen. I told him to go and rest, but he refused, saying he wanted to wait and see what happens next."

"Let him wait." He Yuzhu glanced out the window; the moon was obscured by clouds, appearing dark. "Keep an eye on it, don't let it get away."

"clear."

Lin Jianguo hung up the phone, and He Yuzhu heard someone shouting "They're here again!" from the other end, the voice distant and crackling with static. He sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), without turning on the light. He Nianhua turned over, mumbled something, and fell asleep again. He pulled the blanket up around him, leaned against the wall, and listened to his own heartbeat.

The deciphered results were delivered the following afternoon. Lin Jianguo personally went to deliver the paper to He Yuzhu's desk. His hands were still trembling, not from fear, but from the kind of trembling that comes from staring at a screen all night until your eyes are blurry.

"Dean, this is the first one. There are more to come, and we're still working on them."

He Yuzhu picked it up and looked at it. There were only a few lines of text on the paper, copied in pencil, the handwriting was messy but every word was clear. "The goods have been shipped. Please check upon receipt."

He looked at the paper twice, then put it down. "Anything else?"

Lin Jianguo pulled another sheet from his pocket, folding it neatly. "This one was intercepted this morning. The person sending the telegram changed the frequency, and it took us half an hour to relock it."

He Yuzhu unfolded the second card. "The people in the north are reliable; you can use them with confidence."

He looked up at Lin Jianguo. Lin Jianguo had dark circles under his eyes, and his lips were chapped and peeling.

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes. The third one wasn't even fully cracked yet; the signal was too weak, and it dropped three times."

He Yuzhu folded the two pieces of paper and put them in the drawer. "Keep monitoring. When they change frequencies, you adjust accordingly. If you can't keep up, add more people, three shifts a day."

Lin Jianguo nodded and turned to leave. But he stopped at the door and turned back.

"Dean, that kid is still in the duty room. He says he won't leave until he receives further instructions."

He Yuzhu was taken aback. "Which kid?"

"The first one to hear the signal. His surname is Zhou, a college graduate who just joined us." Lin Jianguo thought for a moment, "He said, this thing is more exciting than what's written in the books."

He Yuzhu didn't speak. Lin Jianguo left. He stood by the window, looking at the sky outside. The clouds were thick; it looked like it was going to rain.

Over the next two weeks, the monitoring station intercepted seventeen coded telegrams.

Each telegram was first delivered to He Yuzhu's desk, and then the task force organized its decryption. The contents of those telegrams were fragmented; some said "goods have been shipped," some said "please check your mail," and some said "the people in the north are reliable." Piecing them together, a general outline could be discerned: Pu Zheng, in Hong Kong, was sending money and equipment to the mainland through channels in Taiwan.

Based on these telegrams, the task force arrested thirty-two people. Some were caught meeting at the train station, some were cornered in their homes while sending telegrams, and one was apprehended while picking up a package at the post office. He Yuzhu only learned of each arrest afterward. Li Jianguo called, his voice filled with excitement.

"Chief He, we've caught another one. This time it's from Shenyang, and he was carrying a radio."

He Yuzhu held the microphone. "Did you get the answer?"

"I asked. They said the 'Prince' is waiting to pick up someone named 'Falcon'."

He Yuzhu pressed his hand on the table. "Falcon?"

"Yes. Code name 'Falcon.' I don't know anything else, but this person hasn't entered the country yet."

The phone call ended. He Yuzhu stood by the window, looking at the sky outside. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, shining on the courtyard wall, making the gray paint gleam with a pale gold. He muttered the words "Falcon" to himself.

Yang Xiaobing poked half his head in through the doorway. "Commander, Team Leader Li called?"

He Yuzhu turned around. "They're here. They said there's another one codenamed 'Falcon,' who hasn't entered the country yet."

Yang Xiaobing walked in and sat down in a chair. "So we have to wait?"

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He walked to the wall and looked at the map. The red dot stretched from Beijing to Shenyang, from Shenyang to Guangzhou, and from Guangzhou to Hong Kong. Pu Zheng was in Hong Kong, in Kowloon Tong, in a small Western-style house. He couldn't reach him, but the people he sent could catch him.

"We have to wait, whether we like it or not." He pressed the pin on the map firmly. "Notify all stations to keep a close watch. The day 'Falcon' enters the territory is the day to close the net."

That evening, He Yuzhu returned home. He Nianhua was already asleep, and Qin Huairu was sewing shoe soles under the lamp. Hearing the door open, she looked up.

Have you eaten?

"I've eaten." He Yuzhu sat down next to her. The needle in her hand pierced the sole of her shoe, then she pulled it out, the thread taut. The room was quiet, with only the sound of needle and thread cutting through the cloth.

"Something happened?" She didn't look up.

He Yuzhu was taken aback. "No."

Qin Huairu bit through the thread and placed the sewn shoe sole on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed). "Go to sleep."

The light went out. He Yuzhu lay on the kang (a heated brick bed), listening to the wind outside. He Nianhua turned over and placed her small hand on his face. He gently put that small hand back under the covers and closed his eyes.

The Falcon is coming.

He waited.