Night Wanderer

At around six in the morning, Sheng Qingrang returned to the Sheng residence on Jing'an Temple Road.

He rang the iron gate's electric bell, and Uncle Yao came running to open it for him. In the end, the old man gave him a suspicious look and asked, "When did you leave last night, sir?" He guarded the mansion gate and noted every entry and exit, yet he had definitely not seen Sheng Qingrang leave the previous night. Had he climbed over the wall?

Sheng Qingrang ignored the question and countered, "How is my elder brother?"

Uncle Yao replied, "The young master had a terrible fever in the middle of the night, and it still hasn't subsided."

"And Zong Ying?"

"Dr. Zong left early this morning in Mr. Zhang's car to fetch medicine from your apartment."

She left? A sudden unease gripped Sheng Qingrang. "When did she leave?"

Uncle Yao frowned. "About two hours ago. The French Concession isn’t far, so she should’ve been back by now. Could she be stuck in traffic?"

The muscles in Sheng Qingrang’s jaw tensed. After a brief moment of thought, he immediately turned and strode away, leaving Uncle Yao muttering to himself at the gate, "Could something really have happened?"

The weather was foul, the air unusually damp. By the time Sheng Qingrang managed to hail a taxi and rush to his apartment in the French Concession, it was already seven o'clock.

As soon as Mr. Ye at the service desk spotted him, he leaned over the high counter and called out, "Ah, Mr. Sheng, you're back! Dr. Zong was just here too! Did she call you?"

Sheng Qingrang halted at the sound of his voice. "She was here?"

"Yes! She asked me for the spare key. Seeing how urgent she seemed, I took her upstairs to open the door," Mr. Ye reported dutifully to the property owner. "She stayed about ten minutes, took some medical supplies—looked quite advanced. Is Dr. Zong a physician?"

Ignoring his chatter, Sheng Qingrang pressed, "What time did she leave?"

"Oh, quite a while ago. I don’t remember exactly." No sooner had Mr. Ye spoken than Sheng Qingrang hurried upstairs. The man hastily added, "Ah, Mr. Sheng! There’s a bottle of milk here—won’t you take it up with you?"

Sheng Qingrang swiftly ascended to his apartment and went straight to the bedroom, where he pulled out the medical kit.

Zong Ying had only taken some of the medical instruments and supplies, leaving most of them untouched and still sealed.

He stared at the kit in silence for a moment before zipping it back up. Just as he picked it up to leave, the telephone rang abruptly.

Answering the call, he was met with an urgent voice addressing him by his courtesy name: "Sheng! The draft issued to us by Nanjing can’t be cashed!"

Sheng Qingrang frowned but maintained his usual composure. "Speak slowly. What did the bank say?"

"All banks in Shanghai suspended cash withdrawals yesterday, and now they’re restricting deposits too! Committee Member Yan went to withdraw funds, but the bank told him the money was classified as remittance reserves and couldn’t be used for immediate payment! But this was specifically allocated to cover the emergency relocation of factory machinery. If we can’t access it, not only will we lose credibility with the factories, but the entire plan will grind to a halt!"

Already anxious about Zong Ying, Sheng Qingrang was further unsettled by this sudden call. Still, he forced himself to remain steady. "What does Committee Member Yan suggest?"

"He’s negotiating with the bank now, but they’re being stubborn. It’s unlikely to work! We’ll have to find another way."

Clutching the telephone receiver in one hand and the medical kit in the other, Sheng Qingrang felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead from low blood sugar.

Steadying his voice, he replied, "Director Pang of the Ministry of Finance’s Accounting Department is currently in Shanghai. If nothing’s changed, he should be staying at the Weida Hotel." He checked his watch. "It’s still early—he probably hasn’t left yet. Go find him first. I’ll join you shortly."The other person pondered for a moment. "Then we can only try Commissioner Pang. Hurry up and come over."

Sheng Qingrang acknowledged and meticulously instructed, "Bring both the official and personal seals to save time." With that, he hung up the phone.

He glanced back—the room was devoid of any trace of human presence, starkly different from the morning decades ago when he had first brought Zong Ying here.

The war had also ended the peace of this place.

He opened the entryway drawer, took the last two candies from it, pocketed them, and swiftly left, heading straight to the Weida Hotel on Avenue Joffre.

After yesterday's two major explosions in the International Settlement, resources had become even scarcer, and entry was now more strictly controlled—only those with proper identification could pass through unimpeded.

Sensing these changes, Sheng Qingrang grew increasingly worried about Zong Ying.

His lips pressed into a tight line as he silently contemplated all the dangers she might face. The more he thought, the more uneasy he became, his heartstrings pulled taut.

When the car finally arrived at the Weida Hotel, he stepped out and strode to the front desk to borrow the phone. He dialed the International Settlement Municipal Council and asked the secretary, "How long will the settlement entrances remain closed?"

The secretary replied, "Lawyer Sheng, the Red Cross is still negotiating with the settlement authorities. It's uncertain when a resolution will be reached. After all, the massive influx of refugees has exceeded the settlement's capacity and poses significant inconvenience and danger to its residents. The authorities' restrictions are based on these considerations."

Sheng Qingrang tightened his grip on the receiver, pondering his next move, when suddenly someone called out from behind, "Sheng, you're already here!"

"Please notify me immediately if there's any progress in the negotiations." He hung up and turned around to see Commissioner Yu from the National Resources Commission approaching hurriedly.

Commissioner Yu carried a suitcase, his shirt soaked with sweat, panting as he vented his frustration. "The government orders us to relocate urgently but won't let the banks release funds! How can they keep dragging their feet like this? Hurry up and find out which room Commissioner Pang is in!"

"Seventh floor." Sheng Qingrang had already inquired and reported the room number before heading straight for the elevator.

During the ascent, Commissioner Yu rambled nonstop about the internal troubles of the National Resources Commission. Sheng Qingrang remained silent, staring at the rising elevator bars—the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion, the tension in his jaw revealed his anxiety, and his clenched fists hinted at a barely suppressed anger.

When the elevator doors opened, Sheng Qingrang strode out swiftly, with Commissioner Yu struggling to keep up, his portly frame making the effort all the more taxing.

They finally knocked on the door of the Director of the Accounting Department of the Ministry of Finance. Commissioner Pang had just woken up and hadn't changed yet, answering in his robe, "What's the matter?"

"It's about the relocation funds! The 560,000 yuan earmarked for us can't be withdrawn from the bank at all! Commissioner Pang, as a member of the Relocation Committee, you must help us resolve this!" Commissioner Yu was clearly furious, his words rushed and agitated.

Commissioner Pang, unfamiliar with him, turned to Sheng Qingrang instead.

Sheng Qingrang said, "Commissioner Yan went to the bank this morning to withdraw the funds but was refused due to withdrawal restrictions. The banks are indeed facing difficulties during this special period, but this sum was approved at the Executive Yuan meeting and concerns the survival of dozens of major factories. Commissioner Pang, what do you think would be the best way to resolve this?"He took his time, retreating first to advance later. Director Pang finally thought it over and said, "To be honest, I can't handle this matter. You'll need to see Vice Minister Xu." Then he stepped half a pace closer, lowering his voice as he spoke to Sheng Qingrang, "Vice Minister Xu comes here every noon for his nap. Come at noon, have your documents ready, and wait for him to finish his nap before asking for his approval. I’ll help explain the situation when the time comes."

With things having progressed this far, all that remained was to wait.

Sheng Qingrang tactfully took his leave with Commissioner Yu. As they descended the stairs, he briefed the commissioner thoroughly. Upon reaching the first floor, he strode quickly to the front desk, picked up the phone again, and dialed the Sheng Residence.

His younger sister, Sheng Qinghui, answered the call.

Sheng Qingrang got straight to the point: "Has Sister Zong returned?"

"Not yet," Sheng Qinghui replied, her voice tinged with anxiety and worry. "She should have been back by now."

"Has the driver returned either?"

"No. Since Old Chen passed away, we had to send a new driver. Maybe... they took a detour."

Sheng Qingrang’s brow furrowed tightly. Several hours had passed since they left the residence. If the car had stalled or gotten lost somewhere along the way—any of these scenarios would be a serious matter in the chaos of wartime Shanghai.

Struggling to remain calm, he said to Qinghui, "Which car did they take? Give me the license plate number."

"I think it was 1412—" Her worry deepened. "I just heard the entrances to the concession have been sealed off. Sister Zong just returned from abroad and isn’t familiar with Shanghai. What if—"

Before she could finish, the receiver was abruptly snatched away, and the furious voice of Second Sister erupted: "Eldest Brother’s fever has spiked past forty degrees! That Dr. Zong was sent to fetch medicine, yet she still hasn’t returned after all this time! Who knows if she botched the surgery and is now running away to avoid responsibility!"

"Sheng Qingping, have you said enough?" Sheng Qingrang suddenly addressed her by her full name, his entire body tensing, his right hand clenching into a fist. "Everyone saw the state of the streets and the hospital that day. Eldest Brother’s life was saved because of Sister Zong. Sister Zong is someone I brought here, and I trust her professionalism and character—you can direct all your grievances at me, but you have no right to question her professional ethics, much less send her out alone to fetch medicine."

His voice trembled with barely suppressed anger, his jaw clenched so tightly his muscles refused to relax.

Second Sister had clearly crossed a line. He was furious at her—and at himself.

The hotel clerk at the front desk gaped up at him in stunned silence, while Second Sister on the other end of the line was left speechless by his rare outburst.

By the time she recovered enough to retort, Sheng Qingrang had already slammed the phone down with a sharp click.

He turned to leave immediately, but Commissioner Yu, who had been waiting nearby, hurried after him. "Sir, where are you going? Didn’t we agree to wait here for Vice Minister Xu?"

Sheng Qingrang struggled to rein in his emotions and replied, "I need to step out for a bit. I’ll do my best to return before Vice Minister Xu wakes from his nap. Please stay here a little longer."

After calming slightly, he suddenly turned back to the front desk, picked up the phone again, and dialed the Municipal Council. Once connected to the police station, he reported Zong Ying’s disappearance and concluded, "Please keep an eye out for a Ford car with license plate number 1412."

That very car was now parked just thirty or forty meters from the concession entrance—empty, with no one inside.The crowd of refugees grew increasingly dense, so much so that it separated Zong Ying from the driver. The surging mass was in a frenzy—the typhoon weather did nothing to dampen their fervent desire for survival.

Suddenly, a small hand clutched firmly onto Zong Ying's pant leg.

Author's Note:

Mr. Sheng: You can criticize me, but don’t you dare criticize Sister Zong. After all, Sister Zong is my patron—without her, I’d be stuck eating expired oden at the convenience store.

A few notes:

The seventh floor of the Weida Hotel is designed in a European style. Though modest in size, its layout is compact and its facilities refined, with ten guest rooms per floor lining both sides of the corridor. The hallway is wide and long, evoking the feel of a plaza. The seventh floor is the most luxurious, serving as the residence of the hotel owner. The eighth floor features a large terrace. By the elevation standards of 1930s Shanghai architecture, the rooftop of the Weida Hotel is akin to Montmartre in Paris—a vantage point from which one can take in the entire city.

On August 10, the Executive Yuan approved Lin Jiyong’s "Shanghai Private Factory Relocation Plan," allocating 560,000 yuan from the Resources Committee as initial funding for the westward relocation of factories, along with an additional 3.29 million yuan in low-interest loans for factory reconstruction and reopening. The meeting also resolved to establish the "Shanghai Factory Relocation Supervision Committee," composed of members from the Resources Committee, the Ministry of Finance, the Ministry of Military Administration, and the Ministry of Industry. The Resources Committee would serve as the lead agency, with Lin Jiyong appointed as chairman to oversee the relocation efforts in Shanghai.

Some events are adapted from Yan Yaoyue’s oral account of the relocation of Shanghai’s private factories during the War of Resistance, with slight adjustments to the timeline.