Spying

28 First Move

With a diploma from Xiangya Medical College, Yin Wenrang was indeed hired by the medical department of the Xuzhou Bandit Suppression Headquarters. Of course, as a counterfeit who had relied on connections, he couldn’t serve as a physician requiring advanced skills. Instead, he was mainly assigned to public health administration. However, contrary to Hu Qian’s expectations, before September arrived, he wasn’t sent directly to Xuzhou but was first dispatched to Jinan.

A Mang’s new photo studio also opened for business, surprisingly located in Xinjiekou. His reasoning was, “The best hiding place is in plain sight.” But in reality, Lan Youyin thought, it was because his real source of income had been temporarily suspended, forcing him to rely on this facade of a business to make a living. The city center was undoubtedly the place with the richest customer base.

As for Lan Youyin, she had returned to work at the First Department. But she had promised Shen Tong that if the Communications Headquarters or Shen Tong herself needed anything, she would help however she could. It seemed they had formed a sort of friendship.

Moreover, Shen Tong continued to treat her as one of their own, specifically sharing the latest developments regarding Han Guizhang’s escape—he hadn’t stayed in Hong Kong but had boarded a ship to Dalian just two days after arriving, then traveled from Dalian to Jiaodong, and finally returned to the Northwest. According to intelligence from the Border Region, he had indeed gone to serve as a staff officer in the Communist bandits’ First Field Army.

“Which means the intelligence we decrypted earlier was correct!” Even though she kept her voice low, Shen Tong still sounded excited. “Youyin-jie, why don’t you just transfer to the Second Department? With your talents, staying in the First Department is a waste.”

They were at the newly renovated and reopened Officers’ Club. Aside from fending off male officers of various ranks who tried to strike up conversations, Shen Tong’s main topic of discussion revolved around her work. Of course, when it came to more sensitive classified matters, she couldn’t divulge specifics. But precisely because of that, she wished Lan Youyin could become a real colleague, so they wouldn’t have to speak in so many riddles between them.

Lan Youyin sipped whiskey from a clear glass and didn’t respond. She didn’t feel the slightest bit that her work in personnel was beneath her talents, nor was she as genuinely passionate about intelligence work as Shen Tong. But these weren’t the reasons she refused to join the Second Department.

She didn’t want to get close to Li Helin.

In Lan Youyin’s view, people like Li Helin—who wore politeness on their faces but hid calculations in their hearts—were undoubtedly the most terrifying. But then again, such people were also the most suited for covert work.

Speaking of duplicity, Ren Shaobai was no different.

Not long ago, the words Shen Tong had said to Ren Shaobai’s face—“You pretend to know nothing when you’re actually full of schemes”—had originally come from Lan Youyin. At the time, however, she had only been speaking based on intuition and impressions, such as how Ren Shaobai’s feigned ignorance and innocence in front of her after Qiao Mingyu’s incident had disgusted her. So when Ren Shaobai had insisted that Han Guizhang’s escape route involved disguising himself among a foreign documentary crew heading north, Lan Youyin had thought him too clever by half, and his cleverness had backfired. She couldn’t help but confront him head-on.

But looking back now, it carried a different meaning.

Had he truly fallen for the Communists’ scheme and gone the wrong way, or was it all part of the plan from the beginning?

And what had he been after when he recently checked her personnel file?What unsettled Lan Youyin even more happened right after Ren Shaobai returned to work following his hospital discharge.

That afternoon around two or three o'clock, feeling drowsy, she stepped out of the office for a smoke. She liked the open space between the office building and the cafeteria. As she was finishing her cigarette, she spotted Ren Shaobai approaching from the other end. Since they were walking toward each other, Lan Youyin gave him a slight nod. But Ren Shaobai frowned and squinted, only showing a look of surprise when he got closer. "Section Chief Lan? Is that you?"

Lan Youyin found it baffling, then realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses as usual. Not in the mood for conversation, she took a few steps away.

"Sorry, sorry. I’ve been practically half-blind these days," Ren Shaobai apologized, gesturing to his eyes. He had come to empty Li Helin’s ashtray. As he washed it at the sink behind the cafeteria, he couldn’t help glancing back at Lan Youyin.

Annoyed, she met his gaze. "Something wrong?"

Ren Shaobai quickly shook his head. "No, no. It’s just that without my glasses, everything’s hazy. People don’t look the way I remember. Don’t mind me, Section Chief Lan."

The way he remembers? Lan Youyin’s hand, holding the half-smoked cigarette, stilled.

She said nothing, stubbed out the cigarette, and walked away.

Perhaps the speaker meant nothing by it, but the listener couldn’t help but take note.

Now, as the whiskey burned down her throat, Lan Youyin finally felt the alcohol’s warmth spreading through her. She pursed her lips and remarked casually to Shen Tong, "So, Ren Shaobai’s deductions back then were completely off the mark."

Shen Tong shrugged. "He just got tangled up with the Communists. Still, he’s had rotten luck—watching Han Guizhang slip away and then getting blown up with a concussion. That’s why he and Director Lu from the Confidentiality Bureau have been obsessing over this bombing case lately."

"After all this time, do they really think the Communists would still be waiting around to get caught?"

At this, Shen Tong’s expression turned peculiar. "They don’t seem to be investigating the Communist angle."

"Then what?" Lan Youyin leaned forward slightly.

"Actually, their investigation isn’t public. It’s being done in secret—even Uncle didn’t know at first. But one day when I was in his office, Director Tang from the Security Bureau called to ask why Ren Shaobai had been inquiring about people in their bureau with Military Intelligence Section backgrounds. Uncle summoned Ren Shaobai for questioning. I got curious afterward and asked him about it, and he only told me a little. Sounded like he wasn’t happy with Ren Shaobai’s actions..."

Lan Youyin fell silent for a moment before circling back. "What does the Military Intelligence Section have to do with the bombing case?"

"Uncle didn’t say, but I’d guess it’s because planting a bomb on a Confidentiality Bureau vehicle without anyone noticing isn’t something just anyone could pull off?" Shen Tong frowned, voicing her speculation before sighing and shaking her head. "I don’t know. I think they’re on the wrong track, but I don’t have proof..."

Lan Youyin caught the unspoken implication. "Proof of what?"Shen Tong looked at her, eyes gleaming with eagerness, and said, "We've all forgotten one unresolved matter in Han Guizhang's case—whether there was an inside accomplice when he initially escaped from the Ministry of Defense."

Lan Youyin froze for a moment. Noticing her glass was empty, she raised her hand to call the waiter. "Another one, please."

Shen Tong immediately grabbed her arm. "This is your fourth glass, isn't it? That's enough. Even with your tolerance, don't drink it like water."

Lan Youyin replied nonchalantly, "I'm fine."

The fifth glass of whiskey. The burning sensation in her throat had dulled.

"Youyin-jie, maybe we should leave. You've had too much..." Shen Tong gazed at her worriedly.

Lan Youyin stared back for a long moment before finally nodding.

On the rickshaw ride home, Lan Youyin felt a suffocating pressure closing in on her from all sides, as if it had taken physical form, pressing against her chest and making it hard to breathe.

Lu Peng was investigating the bombing case. Ren Shaobai had inexplicably turned his attention to the former Military Intelligence Section. Shen Tong mistakenly believed the bomber and Han Guizhang's inside accomplice were the same person, but even so, it narrowed the scope to within the Ministry of Defense... And then there was Li Helin, who seemed fully aware of his subordinates' movements yet remained inscrutable, impossible to gauge.

For the first time, Lan Youyin sensed real danger—and could think of no way to escape it.

As they neared their destination, the rickshaw puller heard increasingly labored breathing behind him. Anxiously glancing back, he saw his passenger clutching her chest with one hand and urgently saying, "Master, please hurry."

The puller quickened his pace. When he stopped at the entrance of Peach Blossom Village's alleyway, Lan Youyin abruptly stood up. She shoved the fare into his hand—not even waiting for change—before staggering toward her home.

The puller stared in shock at her retreating figure, noticing the two Gold Yuan notes in his palm were already half-damp with sweat—despite the cool early autumn night. Remembering others he'd seen with similar symptoms, he sucked in a sharp breath, pocketed the money, and hurried away.

The short distance felt agonizingly long to Lan Youyin. She was grateful it was midnight—no one would witness her unsteady, disheveled state. Finally reaching her door, she fumbled with trembling hands to unlock it. The moment she stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind her—along with the last shred of willpower holding her body upright.

An overwhelming panic wrapped around her like a net, tightening relentlessly. The physical pain was unbearable, radiating from everywhere at once. For a fleeting moment, she considered surrendering—letting the pain or suffocation take her. Sprawled on the floor, she even began to relax her body, yielding to the invisible net.

Then her hand brushed against something.Opening her eyes, she saw a crumpled paper ball under the sofa. She remembered—it was from a night about two months ago when she had spent most of the night hunched over the coffee table, trying to crack a code. She had used many sheets of scratch paper, making multiple attempts and calculations. This paper ball was one of those discarded failures, casually tossed aside during the process. But in the end, when the early morning was at its darkest, she had finally smiled at a formula that wasn’t particularly complex but was indeed intriguing.

Lan Youyin curled her body tighter, as if gathering her strength. Leaning against the wall, she slowly raised her upper body and, after regaining full awareness, began to steady her breathing. After what felt like an eternity, she felt slightly better and groped her way to the bedroom. From the nightstand, she pulled out two bottles labeled "sleeping pills," shook out two different tablets from each, and swallowed them dry.

She lay by the bed, waiting—just as she had countless times before—until she gradually calmed down.

By the time the sun rose the next day, she had fully recovered and had a new idea about what had triggered her panic the previous night. The best defense was always a good offense. So before Ren Shaobai could track her down as the mastermind behind the bombing plot, she would prove that he was the Communist Party spy codenamed "1207."