Spying

15 "Communist Affiliation"

In July 1948, the Nationalist forces were facing increasingly dire circumstances in the eastern Henan theater. The troops stationed in Xiangyang and Fancheng waited daily for reinforcements, never imagining that the military supplies and provisions dispatched to them—initially filling over a dozen train cars—would be reduced by half as soon as they entered Shandong territory.

Meanwhile, in the office of the Second Department director at the Ministry of National Defense, Ren Shaobai presented Li Helin with the findings of his recent investigations:

Liu Kangjie's assets under his wife's name; Wang Xianrong's gambling den operations and the serial numbers of banknotes exchanged for gamblers; their shared bank safety deposit box...

Yet, as if guided by some inexplicable impulse, he omitted mentioning his encounter with Lan Youyin at the Industrial Bank.

"The evidence is conclusive. It's just a matter of how you wish to proceed, sir," Ren Shaobai said.

"Frankly, I've never concerned myself with gossip about targeting him. His own misconduct justifies my actions—my conscience is clear," Li Helin remarked leisurely. "But now, with the Promotion Committee elections approaching, we've become direct competitors. If I were to expose him at this juncture, it might appear deliberate."

Working for someone like Li Helin meant this: to preserve his image of lofty detachment from fame and gain, one had to handle the dirty work for him.

Ren Shaobai understood implicitly. "Understood. Then we'll leverage the press," he said, producing a journalist's business card. "After all, Wenhui Bao has leftist leanings and relishes exposing government officials' scandals."

Li Helin examined the name on the card. "Zhu Yanjun? I remember her—she asked particularly pointed questions at our last ministry press conference. Quite a striking young woman too." He then looked meaningfully at Ren Shaobai.

Ren hastily clarified, "Her family rented my maternal grandparents' property over a decade ago. We've known each other since childhood—that's the connection. The source won't be compromised."

"Ah, childhood friends. I'd assumed she was your sweetheart."

Ren adopted an expression of exaggerated alarm. "Sir, I'd never abuse my position for personal affairs!"

Li Helin chuckled and nodded. "Maintaining press contacts is necessary, but don't become too close. As you noted, their political stance is questionable."

"Rest assured, I'll handle it carefully," Ren concluded. "There's one more thing I uncovered during the investigation—Director Liu appears to have other connections..."

Li Helin's smile vanished.

After concluding his report, Ren left the office and encountered Secretary Zhang waiting outside. This Fourth Department staffer—rarely seen around the Second Department—had been appearing frequently lately. Even the director's confidential secretary remained unaware what tasks his superior was assigning to this outsider.

But he would soon find out.

Entering the office, Secretary Zhang informed Li Helin that today's Presidential Residence briefing was running late, consequently postponing his intelligence review meeting with the department head.

The "Presidential Residence briefing" referred to Chiang Kai-shek's sessions at the Retreat Residence—his Ministry of National Defense headquarters.The meetings where party, government, and military officials reported on various situations were divided into "civil reports" and "military reports." Being able to participate in them was like being granted a certain authority, something that made many envious. Secretary Zhang knew that although Li Helin often voiced his disdain for the endless meetings in the ministry, he secretly coveted the day he could become one of those attending the "official residence briefings."

This, however, revealed another side of his pedantic nature.

Logically, if one wanted to climb the ranks, they had to learn to navigate social circles. But Li Helin seemed to disdain such tactics, always hoping others would take notice of him on their own. Whether it was the earlier management trainee program or now recruiting Ren Shaobai for some secret operation, it was all for the sake of standing out and achieving some "tangible results."

Secretary Zhang had once considered Li Helin part of the party's principled faction, but now he felt that one couldn't have their cake and eat it too...

The change in his thinking absolutely had nothing to do with the favors he received from Liu Kangjie, the director of the Third Department.

Liu Kangjie wasn’t asking him to do anything shady—just to keep him updated every now and then on Li Helin’s daily activities, whether there were any unusual moves or secret plots against him.

As they spoke, Secretary Zhang caught sight of unfamiliar files on Li Helin’s desk and couldn’t help but try to get a closer look.

Li Helin made no effort to hide them, casually explaining, "Oh, I had Shaobai gather some materials for me."

Secretary Zhang nodded in acknowledgment, unaware of the darkening look in Li Helin’s eyes after he turned away.

Li Helin wasn’t the least bit surprised that Liu Kangjie had planted a spy around him. Even if Ren Shaobai hadn’t uncovered Secretary Zhang during the investigation, he had long suspected it—after all, Liu Kangjie had once targeted him in a meeting for so-called "pro-communist remarks." But how could Liu Kangjie have known words Li Helin had only spoken within the Second Department?

So, the days of that traitor’s double-dealing were numbered.

That night, at the Rongji Salt Company warehouse in Jiangbei’s Pu Town, the notified warehouse keepers and workers welcomed three truckloads of fully American-made military equipment. Their task, as in previous operations, was to disassemble and repackage the firearms and ammunition, mixing them with vacuum salt-making equipment purchased from abroad. By dawn, everything had to be repacked and stored, ready for shipment south the following day.

The warehouse keeper directed the workers, noticing a young stranger working with unusual efficiency. He casually asked the foreman beside him, "New hire recently? Where’s he from? Does he have all his papers?"

The foreman whispered, "All in order. From Shandong—probably a deserter. I took pity on him and kept him on."

The warehouse keeper sighed. He knew the government was forcibly conscripting everywhere, and many young men would rather leave their hometowns to do hard labor elsewhere than be dragged to the frontlines. Especially when they realized what kind of work they were really involved in—they’d be even more relieved not to have become cannon fodder on the battlefield.After a busy half-night, the goods were successfully loaded, and the workers went home with their daily wages. The warehouse keeper locked the door and turned around, instinctively looking for the newcomer, but didn’t see him among the workers counting their meager earnings in small groups. The keeper curled his lips, inwardly grumbling about the young man’s lack of manners—new to the job and not even bothering to thank the person in charge, let alone offer any token of appreciation.

Just then, a sudden flash of light flickered in the distance. He jerked his head up, but before he could process what it was, a heavy weight struck the back of his neck. His head lolled, and he collapsed to the ground.

From the direction of the flash, the screech of tires against pavement echoed as a military motorcycle sped away.

The foreman hurried over to the unconscious keeper and asked the person who had stealthily slipped behind him to deliver the blow, “Was that one of yours too?”

Squinting against the faint light of dawn in the east, Ren Shaobai watched the shrinking silhouette of the motorcycle and replied somewhat helplessly, “You could say that.” He thought to himself, That little Zhu Yanjun—her photography skills might be lacking, but she sure rides fast.

The foreman pointed at the man on the ground. “What about him?”

Ren Shaobai bent down, retrieved the warehouse key from the keeper’s pocket, and said, “Carry him to the office and tie him up for now.”

He went to reopen the warehouse himself, glancing at his watch. Peng Yongcheng’s men should be arriving soon.

But the moment the key turned in the lock, Ren Shaobai sensed something amiss. The warehouse, which should have been empty, emitted faint rustling sounds from within—only to fall completely silent the instant the key turned. Ren Shaobai swiftly slipped inside, gently closing the door behind him while drawing his sidearm.

As he clicked off the safety, another creaking noise reached his ears. Reacting before thinking, he pressed his back against the wall and moved quickly toward the depths of the warehouse. The towering shelves obstructed his view, making it hard to tell who—or what—was using them as cover.

Ren Shaobai caught a whiff of damp, metallic rust.

Close to the source of the sound now, he suddenly stepped out from behind a shelf—only to aim his gun at empty air. No one was there. His gaze dropped downward, where a manhole cover sat slightly askew, one edge protruding from the ground. Crouching, he could hear the hollow echo of flowing water in the underground pipes.

The warehouse door creaked open again as the foreman called out in a hushed voice, “Comrade! They’re here!”

Ren Shaobai kicked the manhole cover back into place and holstered his gun. Meeting Peng Yongcheng, he said, “The rest is up to you.”

Roughly thirty hours later, shortly after the Ministry of Defense began its workday, Third Department Director Liu Kangjie stormed into the Second Department in a rage, slamming a copy of that day’s Wenhui Daily onto Li Helin’s desk. The front page bore a sensational headline: The Vanished Battalion: Exposé on Defense Ministry Officials Embezzling Payroll and Selling Arms , accompanied by photos—Liu Kangjie and Wang Xianrong meeting at a restaurant, a copy of the battalion roster bearing Liu Kangjie’s signature, and a truck with workers outside a warehouse at dawn the previous day.These photos might seem harmless on their own, but when combined with the investigative article detailing secret dealings between a certain Liu-named official and a Wang-named businessman—presented with compelling narrative and irrefutable evidence—they made readers fully believe the damning conclusion stated in the headline.

Liu Kangjie always began his mornings in the office by sipping tea while browsing major newspapers before easing into work. But today, he saw himself in one of them. The hot tea he was pouring overflowed the cup, and he abruptly stood up, immediately suspecting the mastermind behind it.

Li Helin was still absentmindedly admiring how quickly that female reporter had penned the piece.

Liu Kangjie, however, was already cursing furiously: "Li Helin, you son of a bitch! You’re screwing me over like this? I’ll fuck your ancestors to hell!"

Li Helin remained calm as still water, replying evenly, "The one who committed the dirty deeds and couldn’t keep his ancestors’ coffin lid shut isn’t me, Li."

If not for the people around holding him back, Liu Kangjie would have drawn his gun.

By then, staff from the Second and Third Departments had gathered on either side, and colleagues from other departments rushed over at the commotion. Those who hadn’t yet grasped the situation were quickly handed the explosive newspaper—signed by reporter Zhu Yanjun, whose article estimated the staggering sum of military funds embezzled by the Liu-named official over the years, a figure so enormous it left jaws dropping.

For the ordinary civil servants who only earned a few hundred in monthly salaries, this glaring disparity instantly skewed their sympathies in the ensuing shouting match.

Liu Kangjie was red-faced with rage, Li Helin watched coldly, and the onlookers buzzed with gossip—the Ministry of Defense had turned into a marketplace in an instant.

Only when the department heads and the Deputy Chief of Staff were alerted did the crowd part to make way, dispersing into hushed silence.

"Utterly disgraceful!" The Deputy Chief of Staff flung the newspaper onto the floor between the two men after reading the article.

Had the Chief of Staff and the Minister of Defense not been at the frontlines, Li Helin and Liu Kangjie would have been summoned to the highest office in the Ministry for a reprimand.

Even so, Liu Kangjie resorted to his usual accusation: "The editor-in-chief of Wenhui Daily has Communist affiliations, and you’re colluding with them! This nonsensical drivel is ironclad proof that you, Li Helin, are a Communist sympathizer!"

"Shut your mouth," the Deputy Chief of Staff snapped, pointing toward the main gate, where opportunistic reporters had already gathered—all thanks to the protagonist of the exposé.

"The General Staff Headquarters is a military institution, not a press conference hall for entertaining journalists!"

And, as expected, the reporters wouldn’t just ask about the fake regiment scandal—they’d also dig into the real situation on the Eastern Henan front. The thought made the Deputy Chief despise Liu Kangjie even more.

"You’re suspended without pay. Go home and write a full confession—how you colluded with that salt merchant, how you applied for and got approval for military funds each time. Write it all clearly! Do it well, and you might still have a sliver of hope. Do it poorly, and the old man himself will sign your execution order!"

Liu Kangjie immediately fell silent. The implication was clear—even the President knew about this. At this critical juncture, things looked dire. He quickly changed his tone, pleading with the department heads and the Deputy Chief to intercede on his behalf.While others were still weighing their options, Li Helin spoke up again: "Director Liu, the military supplies meant for the Fifth Army must have been intercepted by your people by now, right? It's not too late to mend the fold after the sheep is lost—why not retrieve those supplies first?"

Liu Kangjie looked at him for a long moment before revealing the location of the warehouse in Puzhen.

The General Staff immediately dispatched personnel to take over the warehouse, only to find it completely empty. All the firearms and ammunition that had been stored there the previous night had vanished without a trace. Meanwhile, the police department, which had been notified to arrest Wang Xianrong in the city, also came up empty-handed. Even the underground gambling dens had been cleared out overnight, not a single die left behind.

Liu Kangjie, who had genuinely believed it was possible to mend the fold after the sheep was lost, was thunderstruck by the news. But he didn’t know that even more damning evidence was about to follow, leaving him with no way to defend himself.

After days of investigation, it was confirmed that Wang Xianrong had boarded a ship to Hong Kong with all the cash the night before the exposé was published, intending to flee overseas from there. Meanwhile, dozens of wooden crates labeled "Rongji Salt Company" were witnessed by informants at the base of the Communist East China Field Army.

Liu Kangjie, who had been holed up at home for days, collapsed onto the floor.

Communist affiliation—this was the irrefutable proof of Communist affiliation.