Spying

01 Scandal

00 Prologue

Most of the houses in this area had already been demolished, and the residents who once lived here had been forcibly evicted—whether they had somewhere else to go or not. Those who refused to leave would find the Military Intelligence Bureau sending men to tear off their roofs, tiles crashing down amidst the wails of women.

A man in his forties tried to intervene, only to be surrounded, beaten, and dragged onto the roof before being thrown back down.

His wife screamed and rushed toward him. At first, he was still conscious, but the next moment, the world spun violently—the sky seemed too close, while the faces and voices around him grew distant.

Seeing him motionless, the men panicked briefly, but the lead special agent steadied them with a threatening tone: "Tell your man to stop pretending. This is the last day. If you don’t move out, we’ll tear everything down."

With that, he turned to leave. But the woman, driven by a sudden surge of courage, grabbed half a broken tile and lunged at him before anyone could react. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing the shard toward his neck—

At the critical moment, someone behind her swiftly drew a pistol—

That night, heavy rain poured over the northwestern outskirts of Chongqing, as if the heavens were mourning.

The special agents responsible for the demolition were reprimanded. After all, the Military Intelligence Bureau didn’t want casualties over such matters. Forcing civilians to their deaths for the sake of building the Sino-American Institute would give ammunition to certain parties—especially those in Yan’an—to stir up trouble. To clean up the mess, the head of the General Affairs Department arranged for the couple to be buried at the foot of the mountain and sent people to inquire if the family had any relatives left. If so, they were to be appeased and warned against causing trouble later.

After all, the government was already under immense pressure due to the major tunnel tragedy in the city center. The Central Party Headquarters had established a special investigation committee and even planned a public trial of the Chongqing Garrison Commander to placate public anger. Despite this, public sentiment remained tense.

Such was Chongqing in 1941—where people didn’t just die in Japanese air raids.

01 Scandal

The gray-roofed building at the end of Huangpu Road was constructed in 1928. It had once been the Central Military Academy—the Whampoa Military Academy after its relocation to Nanjing. In 1945, the surrender ceremony of the Japanese invaders was also held here. On the morning of September 9, the supreme Japanese commander, Okamura Neiji, signed the surrender document, which was then handed over by Lieutenant General Kobayashi Asaburo to the Commander-in-Chief of the Chinese Army, He Yingqin.

In the blink of an eye, nearly three years had passed.

Now, this military building served as the office of the Nationalist Government’s Ministry of National Defense. The structure, bearing the elegance of the French Renaissance, featured eight columns outside its central portico, three arched doorways leading inside, a clock tower at the top, and twin towers on the eastern and western sides—standing solemn and majestic in the morning light at eight o’clock.

Yet inside, chaos reigned.

Hu Qian, a confidential specialist from the Army Headquarters, was currently in the office of the Fourth Department, berating everyone around him. The reason? The Fourth Department, responsible for logistics, had listed the soldiers’ pay in the supply plan for the Seventh Corps as "Gold Yuan" instead of "Legal Tender Currency."

Hu, a former major who had retired from a division now under the Seventh Corps and transitioned to a staff role a few months ago, seemed overly indignant on behalf of his former comrades. In his outrage, he directly confronted the ordinary clerks of the Second Section who had drafted the plan—"Do you dare to write the words 'Gold Yuan' in the supply plan for the 11th Army?"

Everyone knew the 11th Army was part of the Whampoa faction—the elite—while the 7th Corps was a miscellaneous force. Naturally, there were disparities in their treatment regarding organization and budget allocations. This was an unspoken rule, something no one had ever dared to question openly...

At least, Wei Ningsheng, the young clerk from the Second Division, had never seen it happen.

Still, he tried to explain: "The government is implementing currency reform. The Gold Yuan is a legitimate currency issued by the Central Bank—"

"What the hell does currency reform have to do with me? The troops need real silver and gold for their pay, not some substitute! Soldiers are risking their lives on the front lines, and you bastards are playing tricks in the supply plans!" Hu Qian didn’t care a whit about civil service decorum, cursing openly. Then, feeling that berating a mere clerk wasn’t satisfying enough, he snapped, "Move aside. I’m not talking to you. I’ll take this straight to your division chief."

"Our division chief is in a meeting..." Wei Ningsheng began, but before he could finish, a colleague tugged at his sleeve, signaling him to shut up and just take the scolding.

True to form, Hu Qian didn’t disappoint. He continued his tirade, first accusing Wei Ningsheng of spouting nonsense, then lambasting the chiefs and directors of the Fourth Department for currying favor with superiors and bullying subordinates, embezzling who knew how much in supplies and pay, only to turtle up and hide when trouble arose.

Until a voice suddenly rang out at the office door:

"Ah, summer’s here, and the heat really gets to people. Wei, go fetch a bowl of mung bean soup from the canteen—let’s help Major Hu cool off."

Everyone turned to see the newcomer, one hand still on the doorknob, the other holding a greasy paper bag of breakfast. Despite being late for work, he looked utterly at ease, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

Yet the moment this man appeared, Wei Ningsheng and his colleagues in the Second Division of the Fourth Department visibly relaxed, their faces lighting up with relief— the savior has arrived . Wei Ningsheng even mouthed at him: Gold Yuan .

Ren Shaobai winked at him, then locked eyes with Hu Qian. He immediately straightened up and saluted—only to realize he’d done so with the hand holding the scallion pancake. Switching hands, he saluted again.

"Major Hu, would you like rock sugar in your mung bean soup?"

Hu Qian stared at Ren Shaobai’s earnest expression while Wei Ningsheng made a show of preparing to dash off to the canteen.

"Not necessary," Hu Qian finally said, pausing before adding, "The mung bean soup isn’t necessary."

This wasn’t his first time dealing with Ren Shaobai, nor was it the first time he’d heard stories about others’ encounters with him. Whenever someone came to the Fourth Department demanding answers about military supplies, Ren Shaobai was invariably the one pushed forward to take the heat. Not because this bespectacled, mild-mannered (deputy) section chief was an easy pushover—but precisely because he was the best at smoothing things over. With just a few words, he could leave people so disoriented they’d forget who they’d been furious with in the first place.

The moment Hu Qian—a veteran who’d fought both the Japanese and the Communists—laid eyes on Ren Shaobai, he tensed up, mentally warning himself: This time, I absolutely won’t let him fool me.

Yet, barely a quarter of an hour later, the straightforward Major Hu called it quits.Deputy Section Chief Ren Shaobai of Division Four's Second Department had one hand pressing down on the drafted Seventh Army supply plan while shaking Major Hu's hand with the other. He launched into a lengthy explanation—though the final official seal would come from their department, formulating this plan involved not just Division Four but also Division One handling personnel appointments, Division Five managing budgets and allocations, the Budget Bureau approving funds, and the Finance Bureau processing payments... Then, noticing Hu Qian's increasingly glazed expression, Ren Shaobai shifted topics to the Gold Yuan. This currency, issued by the Central Bank to combat inflation, had the Ministry of Finance's backing to reduce waste and promote the new currency, with military personnel expected to lead by example...

"But here's the thing..." Ren Shaobai finally adopted a sympathetic tone, speaking candidly, "The troops are all stationed in remote areas. Who knows whether local merchants and banks will even accept the Gold Yuan?"

Hearing this, Hu Qian immediately felt validated: "Deputy Section Chief Ren, you hit the nail on the head! The Seventh Corps is stationed in Xin'an Town—how would those folks know Nanjing is trialing a new currency?"

Seizing the opportunity, Ren Shaobai quickly agreed: "Exactly! Those budget and personnel clerks are all desk jockeys... Major, why don't you go ask them whether this oversight slipped through during approval?"

Hu Qian slapped the table, convinced he'd finally identified the root problem. Without waiting for Ren to finish, he stormed off to confront the Personnel Division—staff who had zero understanding of military deployments.

A brief silence settled over the office before Ren Shaobai, amid his colleagues' sincere applause, smilingly returned to his desk. Today, the deputy section chief's masterful deflection and his worldly yet unctuous grin remained as reassuring as ever.

As the saying goes, "When upper beams are crooked, lower ones slant too." That very morning, Division Four's department heads summoned to an early meeting were exercising identical skills.

The division chief had dumped a hot potato on them, and after each department head showcased their evasive artistry, Second Department's Lu Changhai emerged the slightly inferior loser. Grumbling, he returned to his department and spotted a subordinate munching on scallion pancakes during work hours. His temper flared: "Ren Shaobai! My office—now!"

Thus, poor Ren had barely seen off one nuisance before being saddled with a new "scripture retrieval" mission. Except Lu didn't want scriptures—he wanted scapegoats.

"The frontline battles are intense, with constant complaints about supply shortages. Airdrop counts don't match up—President Chiang has raged about this multiple times. Ministry leadership wants a thorough investigation to make an example," Lu said, then looked up to find Ren still seemingly uncomprehending, head dumbly bowed. "What's wrong? Understood?"

"Huh? You're done?" Ren blinked blankly. "I think... I didn't quite follow? Investigate how?"

"I mean investigate and punish a scapegoat!"

"Me? Chief, if we investigate, it won't be 'killing a chicken to scare monkeys'—the entire monkey mountain would get wiped out." Corruption and embezzlement in the military's Ministry of National Defense were practically open secrets, so Ren made no effort to veil his words, instead deliberately probing: "Besides, where should I start? Minister Bai or Chief of General Staff Gu?"Lu Changhai felt a buzzing in his ears. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, he pulled a pen from his breast pocket, swiftly wrote a few names in his notebook, then tore out the page and slapped it in front of Ren Shaobai. "Start with these people," he said. "Just these few. Don't drag in a single extra monkey."

Ren Shaobai looked closely and saw the names written on the paper: Qiao Mingyu from the Third Department, Yang Siping from the Fifth Department, Ma Yao from the Sixth Department, and Sun Yonglin from the Supervision Bureau. Raising his head, he already understood—this wasn't about investigating corruption at all. It was about pinning a plausible charge on these unlucky souls who had somehow offended someone.

So he smiled knowingly again. "Understood, Chief. Consider it done."

A few days later, the Ministry of National Defense announced: Qiao Mingyu, Yang Siping, Ma Yao, and Sun Yonglin, during their inspection tour to the Central China Bandit Suppression Command, had abused their positions to embezzle military funds, extort bribes, and engage in reckless spending. They had betrayed the Party and the President, and thus were stripped of their Party positions and remanded to the Supreme Court for trial.

The ministry buzzed with gossip. Wei Ningsheng returned to the office gleefully and said to Ren Shaobai, "Section Chief, this might finally be your chance to move from deputy to full chief!"

A few more days passed, and there was still no movement on Ren Shaobai's personnel status. Wei Ningsheng arrived early for work, eager to share the latest rumor he'd heard. Unsurprisingly, the deputy section chief hadn't beaten him to the office.

But Wei Ningsheng couldn't keep the news to himself and couldn't resist sharing it with his colleagues. "My friend at the Procuratorate says, except for Chief Qiao from the Third Department, everyone else was directly transferred to Tiger Bridge Prison. What does that mean? Why not Jiangdongmen? And why was Chief Qiao the only one spared?"

In Nanjing, the Army Prison at Jiangdongmen held military personnel with less severe offenses and lighter restrictions. Tiger Bridge, on the other hand, was for serious criminals.

With Wei Ningsheng's words, the office erupted like water hitting hot oil—crackling with chatter as everyone shared their own tidbits about this corruption case that hadn't even gone to trial yet.

"Qiao Mingyu wouldn't go that far. I bet even if he skimmed, it couldn't have been much."

"I heard it's just an excuse to punish him—he must have offended someone higher up. After all, if they want to target someone, they can always dig up dirt."

"So Deputy Section Chief Ren was just used as a tool? No wonder the chief hasn't shown any reaction either."

"Here's another strange thing—apparently, none of them showed up for work a few days before the announcement."

"Really? What does that mean?"

"I heard a whisper about this, but it's so baseless I doubt it's true..."

"Don't hold back, just say it. Let's all hear it."

"Well—it's not about corruption or offending someone. It's a major scandal, so the higher-ups had to create a cover story."

"What kind of scandal?"

"It's about Qiao Mingyu and the others. Actually, they're..."

At that moment, the office door swung open—of course, it was Ren Shaobai, fashionably late. As the saying goes, better to arrive at the right time than early. Just as he stepped inside, he heard the colleague with the exclusive information cautiously and mysteriously utter two words—

"Communist spies."