Spying

22 Liang Zhu

Li Helin had overestimated one thing—the willingness of foreigners to cooperate with the affairs of their host country.

In his view, a city-wide manhunt to capture a fugitive was both just and legitimate. Under this pretext, security personnel could randomly stop any Chinese citizen on the street, and they would obediently submit to inspection. But when it came to the British, Americans, Canadians, Belgians, and others, they felt their personal boundaries were being violated.

Within just two days of the investigation operation, aside from a few South American and Asian nations, staff from the embassies of various Western countries had gone from being endlessly annoyed to outright resistant to the so-called "security checks" at highways, docks, and airports. From their perspective, they were simply trying to go to Shanghai for the weekend, send their children to school in Hong Kong, or—given their pessimism about the Nationalist-Communist conflict—preemptively ship some belongings back to their home countries as a precaution. Why should they tolerate disruptions to their daily lives under the banner of "national security"?

Even Mr. John Leighton Stuart, that "friend of the Chinese people," personally called the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to protest the harassment his subordinates had endured. However, his words were far more tactful than those of many of his European counterparts: "To mobilize the entire capital for the sake of a single individual—I fear your government’s authority will not only diminish domestically but also reach an unprecedented low on the international stage."

He framed it entirely from the Nationalist government’s perspective, while still effectively amplifying the negative implications.

At noon on August 11th, Li Helin emerged from the Minister of National Defense’s office with a grim expression. Yet Ren Shaobai privately affirmed that Peng Yongcheng’s plan was working—

Stirring protests among foreign embassy personnel in China, prompting the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to pressure for a relaxation of inspections. This was the first step.

But given Li Helin’s temperament, he must have already anticipated the next move: this was the Communist Party’s scheme. Therefore, the more resistance they faced, the more determined he would be not to yield—and the more convinced he would become that Han Guizhang’s escape was tied to foreign embassies. When this line of reasoning was first proposed, Li Helin had only half-believed it. Now, his conviction had risen to eighty percent.

Ren Shaobai’s role was to fill in the remaining twenty percent.

"Professor, I have an idea." Out of habit—and a bit of calculated insight into Li Helin’s mindset—Ren Shaobai, as his secretary, still positioned himself as a student rather than a subordinate.

"Go on," Li Helin said.

"We can’t abandon our original approach, or we might play right into Han Guizhang’s hands. The moment we relax inspections would be his best chance to flee."

"Is that what you think?"

"Yes, Professor. Don’t you agree?"

Li Helin’s expression softened slightly. Ren Shaobai’s speculation had struck the right chord.

Having spent years navigating an office culture of sycophancy, a significant part of Li Helin’s work involved compromise. If he didn’t play along, his superiors would constantly remind him to step back, to consider the repercussions—especially the leader’s face. And each time, he could only nod in agreement.

Just moments ago, in the minister’s office, even though he believed that concessions to foreign embassies would only embolden them to act more arrogantly on the soil of the Republic of China, with the director apologizing and making assurances beside him, he couldn’t overstep and voice any dissent.None of this aligned with Li Helin's self-perception. He prided himself on being more clear-headed and noble in character than most in the Ministry of National Defense. The occasional compromises he made against his conscience were merely unavoidable concessions within the bureaucratic system. He believed he had held out far longer than most—those who had once shared his faith in the Three Principles of the People. The phrase "emerging unstained from the filth" sounded trite when spoken aloud, but whenever someone addressed him as "teacher," it briefly conjured the illusion that he was indeed different from the rest of the system, offering him some solace—though he knew it was self-delusion.

Still, being consistently respected by his students felt good, especially when one of them could so intuitively grasp his thoughts—

"Over the past two days, our people hoped to uncover fake passports at airports and ports, but not even an expired one turned up. This might well be the Communist Party's strategy—setting up numerous decoys to divert our attention."

"What are your thoughts now on that 'Gao Yu'?"

The first person Shen Tong had discovered with a forged foreign passport at the Pingshi Street photo studio had initially set the Ministry of National Defense on this investigative path. Yet, she had shaken off surveillance afterward, and her passport had not surfaced at any exit point.

"Perhaps she's waiting for us to lower our guard."

Li Helin shook his head. "Actually, I've been thinking these past two days—what if, including her, those stolen foreign documents aren't meant to help people leave the city, but to bring them in?"

"You mean... the people stealing the passports aren't the ones who'll use them? But how do you explain the photos?"

"When inspectors check documents, they always look at the person first. That face forms a preconceived impression, and then they glance at the photo, searching for similarities rather than discrepancies. So long as the passport holder bears some resemblance to the photo, passing inspection isn't difficult. And that's with Chinese faces, which the inspectors are familiar with. With foreigners, it'd be even harder to tell."

Even with the intent to mislead, Ren Shaobai couldn't help but silently admire Li Helin's deduction. He was sharper than anticipated, already three steps ahead.

"Look into whether any foreign groups are scheduled to arrive in Nanjing recently—delegations, orchestras, journalists... They'll be our next surveillance targets."

Peng Yongcheng had once said that to deceive an old hand like Li Helin, one couldn't rely on lies alone—they had to give him something real.

Thus, hours later, Ren Shaobai returned to Li Helin's office armed with genuine intelligence gathered from Foreign Ministry records, entry ports, and other public sources.

Unexpectedly, others were already present.

Ren Shaobai quickly took half a step back. "I'll come back later."

But Li Helin stopped him. "Stay. They were just about to brief me."

"They" referred to Shen Tong and Lan Youyin.

Ren Shaobai approached, though puzzled by Lan Youyin's presence. He greeted them politely and respectfully, "Miss Shen, Director Lan."

Shen Tong responded courteously, "Mr. Ren."

Lan Youyin, however, merely gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.—After all, she was a section chief. Ren Shaobai had finally reached her rank last month, only to be transferred immediately afterward, dropping half a step below her again. Moreover, everyone in the Ministry of National Defense knew—at least on the surface—that the downfall of Qiao Mingyu, the former head of the Third Department, stemmed from Ren Shaobai’s exposure of his corrupt activities. Naturally, this meant Lan Youyin and Ren Shaobai were entangled in countless frictions.

However, Li Helin paid no attention to these interpersonal dynamics and couldn’t care less whether the two of them felt awkward discussing work in the same room.

“What were you about to say?” Li Helin asked Shen Tong.

“Director, Youyin-jie has made a discovery at the Communications Headquarters.”

When others were present, Shen Tong still adhered to their agreement and did not reveal her familial ties with Li Helin. That day, when she had deliberately called him “uncle” in front of Lan Youyin, she later explained her reasoning to Li Helin: Section Chief Lan was no ordinary person. To draw her into their circle, they had to offer her something most people didn’t know.

Li Helin had never noticed anything particularly remarkable about Lan Youyin before, but he decided to trust Shen Tong—not only because her mother was his own elder sister, but also because she possessed an innate intuition well-suited for intelligence work. The direction of their investigation so far seemed to confirm this.

“Ah, right—Shaobai, you weren’t aware yet,” Li Helin said to Ren Shaobai. “We’ve enlisted Section Chief Lan’s assistance in this investigation because the workload at the Communications Headquarters has increased, and she has relevant experience.”

The sudden appearance of an unexpected participant made Ren Shaobai tense, but he maintained his composure and replied, “Yes, pooling wisdom from different angles is beneficial.”

Lan Youyin, however, wasted no time on pleasantries and cut straight to her conclusion: “The headquarters has collected intelligence from regional stations across the country. After screening and cross-referencing, we identified several messages that may be related to Han Guizhang’s relocation route.”

“Oh?” Li Helin leaned forward slightly, intrigued.

“We intercepted several transmissions from the Northwest Border Region to the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia Communist area. Based on repeated numerical codes, we deciphered two key verbs, leading us to deduce that one of the messages read: ‘The Carpenter will proceed to the Cotton Field.’ I then reviewed previous months’ intercepted communications and concluded that ‘Cotton Field’ likely refers to the Communist First Field Army. The codename ‘Carpenter’ has only appeared recently, so it’s highly probable that it refers to Han Guizhang.”

“So, Han Guizhang is returning to the Northwest,” Li Helin said, his tone ambiguous—neither clearly a statement nor a question—just as his expression gave no indication of whether he believed this new theory or not.

“Very likely,” Shen Tong chimed in this time. “He’s the most familiar with the Northwest’s military situation. The Communist forces wouldn’t pass up such a ready-made senior advisor!”

Li Helin pondered for a moment before turning back to Lan Youyin. “Judging by the wording, it seems this ‘Carpenter’ hasn’t departed yet?”

“Correct. The intercepted messages also contain other codenames referring to different locations, likely waypoints along his transfer route.” As she spoke, Lan Youyin glanced at the map hanging on the wall behind Li Helin and gestured vaguely in its direction. “Bypassing Nationalist-controlled territory, he’ll likely head to Dalian first, then pass through Jiaodong before finally reaching the Communist Northwest.”"We've all been misled before!" Shen Tong quickly added. "This is almost identical to how Han Guizhang escaped from the Ministry of Defense—first making us believe it was scenario A, then disappearing right under our noses with scenario B. But people can't vanish into thin air; it's all just smoke and mirrors."

Li Helin maintained his usual inscrutable expression, offering no comment as he turned to Ren Shaobai instead. "What have you found in your investigation?"

No one knew that Ren Shaobai's palms were drenched in sweat at that moment.

Don't give yourself away, Ren Shaobai told himself. Faced with Lan Youyin's unwavering confidence in her own theory, he still had an advantage—his current investigation followed Li Helin's direct orders, which was his greatest cover.

Steadying himself, Ren Shaobai began calmly, "We previously agreed that Han Guizhang's escape was impulsive, meaning the Communist Party was also caught off guard. Therefore, I believe they couldn't have acted so quickly, and inciting protests from foreign embassies was their way of buying time. This morning, you pointed out, sir, that while we've been strictly monitoring people leaving the city these past few days, we've paid little attention to those entering. I think this is a lead worth pursuing—Communist operatives assisting Han Guizhang likely slipped into the capital disguised as newcomers and are waiting for us to ease inspections under diplomatic pressure before leaving with him."

For a moment, silence filled the office.

Li Helin chuckled, glancing between Ren Shaobai and Lan Youyin. "Both theories involve deception, but now you've presented two entirely different directions. Which one is the beam, and which is the pillar?"

Before Ren Shaobai could respond, Lan Youyin cut in. "The second theory sounds plausible but is ultimately meaningless." She stared directly at Ren Shaobai, unyielding. "What you're suggesting is that we maintain our current investigative approach unchanged—until diplomatic pressure mounts unbearably while Han Guizhang remains at large."

"He won't stay at large," Ren Shaobai said, placing an item he'd been clutching onto Li Helin's desk—an issue of The Young Companion: Film Special . "An early-year report mentioned a Canadian documentary crew planning to film in multiple cities, including Shanghai, Nanjing, and Beiping. But according to the Foreign Ministry, after initial approval, they received word last month that the crew wouldn't proceed due to Communist disruptions of rail routes in North China. Yet, Xiaguan Railway Station reported seeing a group of foreigners yesterday claiming to be that documentary team, complete with Chinese guides and interpreters. Sir, this perfectly aligns with your hypothesis—they hired people to pose as this crew, and when leaving, they could easily smuggle Han Guizhang out with them."

Before Li Helin could react, Lan Youyin spoke again. "Using a film magazine as an intelligence source—isn't that absurdly unserious? Section Chief Ren—oh, pardon me, Secretary Ren—your imagination remains as vivid as ever, excelling at conjuring theories from thin air."

Even Li Helin couldn't ignore the blatant hostility in her words—a personal attack aimed squarely at Ren Shaobai himself.