Spying

29 Tricks

Even if one were to presume guilt, Lan Youyin found it difficult to convincingly argue that "Ren Shaobai is a Communist spy."

Was he the one who let Han Guizhang escape? But in the end, it was clearly a high-ranking Party official swayed by old sentiments who delivered the decisive blow. Going further back, Liu Kangjie’s downfall seemed connected to Ren Shaobai—so was it him who diverted that batch of firearms and ammunition Wang Xianrong intended to sell to Communist-controlled areas? Although Yin Wenrang did notice signs of a third party’s involvement after infiltrating the warehouse workers, there was no evidence linking it to Ren Shaobai. Moreover, wasn’t he ostensibly working for Li Helin at the time?

This was the crux of Lan Youyin’s frustration. She was almost certain of her suspicions, yet she couldn’t find a flaw in his facade.

The only advantage she had over others was the code name "1207" itself. She knew her hypothesis was correct—that the number held meaning, carrying a personal touch and a subtle trick. And when she learned that Ren Shaobai was connected to the number 17, she suddenly recalled an old incident.

Two years ago, at the inauguration ceremony for the Minister of National Defense, she had felt an inexplicable unease upon seeing Ren Shaobai’s familiar face. But then Ren Shaobai had approached her first, saying, "Section Chief Lan, you may not remember, but we’ve met before. You once taught me a math problem." Only then did Lan Youyin connect the blurred face in her memory to this colleague standing before her.

He was someone who had studied mathematics, someone who had a fondness for prime numbers, someone who played games with numbers.

Now, looking back, wasn’t the decryption process of that coded message eerily similar in nature to that peculiar math problem with unconventional rules from the Chengdu tram all those years ago?

So, with numbers, codes, and people all aligning, what were the odds that Ren Shaobai had no connection to "1207"?

Lan Youyin wasn’t in intelligence, but she knew one thing: in this line of work, there were no coincidences.

The only thing missing was concrete evidence.

But what if there was no evidence? Lan Youyin thought. There were other ways.

At noon, under the pretense of treating Shen Tong to lunch, Lan Youyin led her away from the Ministry of National Defense building.

Shen Tong, of course, could tell she had something to say.

"Around the Dragon Boat Festival, Director Lu once brought me a Communist Party’s coded message to decipher," Lan Youyin unfolded a slip of paper with several sets of numbers written on it. "Would the Second Department’s monitoring station have any related records?"

Shen Tong glanced at it and said, "I can look into it. But is this related to something?" As she spoke, she tore the slip into pieces—a habit ingrained after entering intelligence work, leaving no written traces behind."This mentions a Communist Party operative codenamed 'Silkworm Keeper.' Director Lu seemed quite surprised at the time because he believed the Silkworm Keeper was already dead. But my feeling is that this implies the Confidentiality Bureau still has unaccounted-for leads on underground Communist organizations—therefore—" Lan Youyin spoke slowly, with a tone that seemed hypothetical yet subtly persuasive, "when you mentioned yesterday that there might be an inside man for Han Guizhang within the Ministry of Defense, it suddenly occurred to me: did the Confidentiality Bureau ever capture that Silkworm Keeper? If not, then when we collaborate with the Confidentiality Bureau to investigate Han Guizhang's external contacts, Director Lu should have treated this previously mentioned codename as the first lead to pursue. Yet why hasn't he brought up this intercepted message or this person at all?"

"You mean Director Lu..." Shen Tong looked surprised.

Lan Youyin shook her head, cutting her off: "Director Lu may have his own concerns and methods. Besides, I have no proof—it's just strange to me."

"You said this happened around the Dragon Boat Festival? Maybe the Confidentiality Bureau had already captured this Communist and determined it was unrelated to the Han Guizhang case?"

"Yes... but can the Confidentiality Bureau never make mistakes?"

Shen Tong stopped walking and turned to look at Lan Youyin: "Sister Youyin, what exactly are you trying to say?"

Lan Youyin seemed caught off guard by the question and struggled to speak: "I haven't told anyone else this..." She paused, then raised her eyes to meet Shen Tong's gaze. Her usually indifferent eyes now held a trace of helplessness. "I want to ask for your help."

Shen Tong's eyes widened, feeling a mix of surprise, warmth, and a surge of heroic determination. She looked at Lan Youyin solemnly and said, "Sister Youyin, go ahead."

"Do you know about my husband's situation?"

Shen Tong froze. Although she had joined the Ministry of Defense after the incident, she had quickly heard the rumors about Qiao Mingyu, the former head of the Third Department. Officially, he had been dismissed and investigated for embezzlement, but increasingly, people were certain that the embezzlement charge was just a cover—that he was actually a Communist spy.

In her interactions with Lan Youyin, Shen Tong had carefully avoided the topic, and Qiao Mingyu's name had never come up in their conversations. But now, Lan Youyin had brought it up herself, still referring to him as "my husband." To Shen Tong, this instinctively suggested—there was more to the story.

"The charges against him were baseless, and not just about the embezzlement."

Sure enough, Lan Youyin's words immediately confirmed her suspicion.

Seeing the change in Shen Tong's expression, Lan Youyin knew her words had landed. She continued: "Miss Shen, I know my husband. He would never be a Communist. That incident—either the Communists deliberately created a scandal to prove they had infiltrated the government's intelligence agencies, or there was a real Communist spy who got away, and my husband took the fall for someone else..."

That afternoon, Shen Tong indeed found suspicious radio transmissions intercepted from a local Communist Party radio station one evening in mid-June in the monitoring records of the Communications Center. She also tracked down the officer on duty at the time and learned that the station had already been under the Confidentiality Bureau's control. She immediately understood what was going on.

She hurried to report to Li Helin, only to find his office empty.

"Director Li is in a meeting," Ren Shaobai, outside, informed her.Shen Tong looked at him suspiciously. "Why aren't you following them?"

After spending some time together, she had grown familiar with Ren Shaobai and no longer stood on ceremony with her address.

Fortunately, Ren Shaobai never cared much about formalities either. Although he didn't yet know about Shen Tong's familial relationship with Li Helin, he could tell that among the new recruits, this young woman with her extraordinary memory was the most highly regarded. So he didn't put on airs as a senior colleague, instead adopting a deliberately mysterious tone: "It's a high-level meeting, above my clearance as a confidential secretary. Must be something major."

Shen Tong pursed her lips, uninterested in this topic. Her gaze unconsciously drifted toward the office again, her expression betraying disappointment.

Amused by how transparent her emotions were, Ren Shaobai asked, "What's wrong? Made another earth-shattering discovery?"

Recognizing the teasing in his voice, Shen Tong immediately straightened her face and countered, "Mr. Ren, have you gotten your new glasses yet?"

Ren Shaobai promptly adjusted the metal frames on his nose. "Yes, what do you think? I find them quite good, and accounting even reimbursed me."

Shen Tong gave a disdainful little hum. "Then perhaps you'll see things—and people—more clearly from now on."

The obvious implication made Ren Shaobai raise an eyebrow. "Do enlighten me, Miss Shen."

Chin lifted, Shen Tong asked, "How's your recent collaboration with Director Lu going?"

"Oh? Do you have some information?"

"Just a friendly reminder that Director Lu isn't from our department after all. I'd hate to see you being used and taken advantage of."

"Where is this coming from?"

"What I mean is—" Shen Tong deliberately drew out her words, watching Ren Shaobai for a long moment, satisfied she'd strung him along sufficiently, "Director Lu clearly possesses intelligence that should have been shared long ago, yet he hasn't been entirely forthcoming. There's probably something you still don't know. You should ask him—has the 'Silkworm Keeper' been found? Because he might very well be the accomplice who helped Han Guizhang escape last time!"

"Who is Han Guizhang's accomplice?"

Before Shen Tong could finish speaking, Li Helin's voice sounded behind her. Both Ren Shaobai and she turned simultaneously—neither had noticed when the department head, who moved with completely silent footsteps, had appeared.

"Intelligence officers shouldn't speak so carelessly, especially without solid evidence. It's highly unprofessional."

Ren Shaobai quickly stepped back and saluted Li Helin. Shen Tong, however, paid no attention to the criticism. As soon as they entered the office, she eagerly launched into explaining her reasoning.

"In early June, Director Lu of the Confidentiality Bureau intercepted a Communist Party telegram mentioning an operative codenamed 'Silkworm Keeper.' Yet when we collaborated on the Han Guizhang investigation and wanted to approach it through Nanjing's underground Communist network, he never mentioned this person. The two incidents are so close in timing—even I find it hard to believe they're unrelated. Would Director Lu really think these are two completely separate matters not worth connecting? Therefore, I believe that regarding whether Communist remnants still exist in Nanjing, Director Lu is either trying to cover up his previous oversight or withholding information to monopolize the credit."Shen Tong finished speaking with full confidence, only to realize that neither Li Helin nor Ren Shaobai reacted as she had expected. Neither of their faces showed the same excitement or indignation as hers, instantly deflating her earlier self-assurance.

“Director… did I say something wrong?”

Li Helin looked at her and asked, “Why did you think to check the previous surveillance records?”

Shen Tong hesitated for a moment but decided to tell the truth. “It was Section Chief Lan. At the time, Director Lu privately asked her to decipher that coded message.”

“Then why didn’t she mention it during the temporary investigation team’s work?”

Shen Tong froze, then hurriedly explained, “Perhaps she didn’t connect the dots at the time. After all, she hasn’t always worked in intelligence.”

“If that’s the case, why were you discussing our work with someone from another department?” Li Helin stared at her sternly. “As an intelligence officer, you lack any sense of confidentiality, letting others lead you by the nose without critical thinking or self-reflection.”

Shen Tong’s face flushed red. She hadn’t expected such a harsh evaluation. She stammered for a while, trying to defend herself, but in the end, couldn’t muster a single word.

Li Helin’s reaction also took Ren Shaobai by surprise. In his view, Shen Tong had always presented herself as outspoken since joining the department, which must have had tacit approval from her superiors. Even when he had first been transferred to the Second Bureau, Li Helin had said that in their line of work, making mistakes wasn’t the issue—lacking divergent thinking was. Moreover, if Shen Tong’s deduction had been baseless speculation, Li Helin would have had reason to interrupt her. But her reasoning was sound—Ren Shaobai himself had felt a sinking feeling in his chest when she mentioned the words “Silkworm Keeper.”

The only problem was that Shen Tong had brought up Lan Youyin.

Li Helin had long been wary of Lan Youyin and had even tasked Ren Shaobai with investigating her discreetly. Yet after repeatedly reviewing her file, he had found nothing suspicious. Thinking of this, Ren Shaobai decided to step in and help Shen Tong out of the awkward situation.

But Li Helin beat him to it, continuing sternly, “What are you still standing here for? Go write a self-criticism.” He flipped open his notebook, tore out two pages, and handed them to her. “Fill them up and submit them to me before the end of the day.”

Shen Tong pressed her lips tightly together, her face rigid. This was likely the first time since graduating that she had been scolded so harshly—and in front of a third party, no less. Swallowing her humiliation, she took the papers from Li Helin, gave him a perfunctory salute, and quickly strode out of the office.

As the door closed behind her, Ren Shaobai thought, She’s still young after all. If it had been him, he might have turned back unexpectedly after stepping out—that way, she could have at least overheard whether Li Helin’s dismissal of her was related to the high-level meeting that had just concluded.

Sure enough, when Ren Shaobai spoke up—“Director, are you still concerned about Lan Youyin…”

Li Helin cut him off. “I’m aware of that message. Lu Peng initially didn’t take it seriously—it was my suggestion that he find a way to decode it. The Confidentiality Bureau isn’t what the Military Intelligence Section used to be. The intelligence system is full of holes, and while Lu Peng is an excellent special agent, he lacks imagination in his work. But we’ll discuss that later. Right now, I need to talk to you about something else.”Ren Shaobai was momentarily taken aback but quickly responded, "Understood." He forced himself to ignore the information Li Helin had just revealed—that he knew about the secret message Ren had sent. And during Shen Tong's deduction earlier, he had noticed one thing: only the Silkworm Keeper's name had been mentioned. What about Li Helin? How much did he know? Besides the Silkworm Keeper, did he know about 1207? And Lan Youyin—so it was she who had deciphered the code. Of course, it could only be her... But if it was her, had she also discovered the significance of that number?

Ren Shaobai's mind was racing with thoughts, yet all he voiced was a single question: "Was there a new assignment during the meeting just now?" That was all he could ask, playing the role of the loyal deputy who followed orders without question.

"Tomorrow, you'll accompany me to Shanghai to bring someone back to Nanjing," Li Helin said.

"You're going personally? Who has such influence?"

Li Helin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked to the office window and gazed toward Purple Mountain. After a long pause, he uttered a name that took Ren Shaobai completely by surprise.

At that moment, Ren suddenly understood. Li Helin's earlier bad temper hadn't been directed at Shen Tong. Rather, he had been handed a hot potato and was thoroughly vexed, wondering if their superiors had lost their minds to the lingering summer heat of "autumn tiger" season, issuing such an outrageous command that defied all reason.