Spying

33 Nux Vomica

"So what did you put in that first pot of coffee?"

After meeting with Peng Yongcheng, Ren Shaobai was asked this question.

By now, Okamura Neiji had already been relocated to a secret safe house, the address of which even Ren Shaobai didn’t know. Peng Yongcheng had also prevented him from probing Li Helin for information, reasoning that they couldn’t let Li Helin suspect that everything happening recently was inextricably linked to Ren Shaobai.

"Lucky for you, you didn’t act on the train. That passenger who bumped into you practically saved your life."

—Though he knew it violated organizational rules, Ren Shaobai hadn’t told Peng Yongcheng about how Lan Youyin had suddenly appeared on the train, pressing a gun to his temple and a knife to his throat. With a loophole mentality, he reasoned that since it hadn’t happened during an official operation, he wasn’t obligated to disclose every detail. But in truth, he couldn’t quite articulate what exactly he was holding back.

From Peng Yongcheng’s perspective, Ren Shaobai’s mere intention to assassinate Okamura Neiji on the train was enough to warrant a written self-criticism and a suspension from underground work. Not only had he acted recklessly by making decisions without authorization, but he had also created an enormous risk of exposure. Unlike his impulsive decision to help Han Guizhang escape at the Ministry of National Defense, this time, there had been only a handful of people in the train carriage in the early hours of the morning. If Okamura Neiji had died, Ren Shaobai would have been quickly identified as a suspect. For their organization, this would have meant yet another devastating loss. As the central figure in Nanjing’s underground Communist intelligence network, any action that risked self-exposure was deeply irresponsible.

Yet Ren Shaobai insisted that even if he had succeeded, suspicion wouldn’t have fallen on him.

"If the aide who tested the poison for him was unharmed, there’d be no reason to suspect the coffee was poisoned," he said confidently.

Peng Yongcheng frowned. "Why would the aide be unharmed?"

At almost the same time, Lan Youyin posed a similar question: "Why wouldn’t the poisoner be caught?"

—And the person she was asking was Lu A'mang, the master forger who was temporarily out of the fake ID business.

On the table before them sat a transparent glass cup filled with warm water, soaking a handkerchief and dissolving the brown substance originally on it.

"It’s coffee," Lan Youyin said. "But I don’t know what else is in it."

A'mang first lifted the cup and sniffed it, then asked, "After the handkerchief got wet, did you handle it directly with your hands?"

"Yeah," Lan Youyin nodded, then asked nervously, "Did I ruin some component?"

"No," A'mang replied. "It just means it’s not cyanide—otherwise, you’d already be dead."

Lan Youyin resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "It’s definitely not the kind of poison that kills on contact, because the poisoner is very..." She was about to say "smart," but as if unwilling to admit it, she changed her wording. "Very cunning."Precisely because of this, Lan Youyin took extra precautions. Before the Blue Steel Express reached its final destination, she returned to the carriage junction where Ren Shaobai had knocked over the coffee pot and soaked her handkerchief with the residual coffee on the floor. She wasn’t entirely sure this method would work, nor did she know whether A Mang, who had once run a traditional Chinese medicine shop in his family, could detect if there was any poison mixed in with the coffee on the handkerchief.

A Mang dipped his finger into the lukewarm water in the cup, touched it to his tongue, and smacked his lips. "Bitter," he said.

"Coffee is bitter," Lan Youyin replied.

"Not the bitterness of coffee," A Mang shook his head and explained. "The coffee was absorbed by the fabric of your handkerchief and then diluted by the water—it’s impossible to taste now. But there’s definitely something else in it, something the water didn’t dilute."

Lan Youyin pressed urgently, "What is it?"

"Nux Vomica."

"What’s that?"

A Mang looked at her incredulously. "You really didn’t learn anything back when you used to visit my family’s shop, did you?"

Seeing the blatant disdain in his eyes, Lan Youyin shot back, "Oh, and you learned everything, yet here you are, not carrying on the family business?"

"I just... had other ambitions," A Mang muttered.

Lan Youyin finally let her exasperation show, rolling her eyes before urging, "Just tell me what it is. Some kind of poison?"

"It’s a medicinal herb. The main component, strychnine, is used in traditional medicine to reduce swelling and relieve pain. Western medicine, on the other hand, claims it stimulates the nervous system—though they don’t call it that, they call it strychnine," A Mang said, fishing the handkerchief out of the water and draping it over the back of a nearby chair. "Of course, it’s toxic, and the margin between a safe dose and a lethal one is narrow. Whoever you know with all these tricks might’ve used that to their advantage. Who was it? I mean, who was poisoned? I don’t actually want to know who did it."

"...The person poisoned had some kind of bone or rheumatism condition," Lan Youyin avoided answering directly but immediately recalled Zhu Yanjun mentioning that Okamura Neiji, the patient admitted to the clinic in Hongkou, had sought treatment for such ailments.

"But nowadays, Nux Vomica is rarely used for—" A Mang’s words cut off abruptly, then his eyes widened in realization. "Lan-jie, this poisoner is really cunning! They’ve created the perfect opportunity to avoid detection."

"Why wouldn’t they be caught?" Lan Youyin asked.

"Most painkillers on the market today use morphine, and morphine happens to delay the onset of strychnine’s effects. That means the victim wouldn’t collapse immediately—they could go about their business for hours before the poison takes effect. By then, the poisoner would be long gone. Isn’t that the perfect alibi? Wow, now I’m curious—who is this person? Some doctor or pharmacist?""Moreover, the strychnine in the coffee alone wouldn't have been enough to be fatal, so that adjutant who also drank the coffee would be fine. The day before, I saw from Jin Chuanlong's medical records that Okamura Neiji was taking that tonic made from Nux Vomica. That's when it occurred to me—if there was an opportunity on the train, I could create this window where two doses would exceed the safety threshold." Ren Shaobai finished speaking, then added somewhat resentfully, "All that preparation the night before was wasted—I barely got any sleep."

After hearing his explanation, Peng Yongcheng couldn't help but ask, "How do you know so much about pharmacology?"

"Do you know what my mother is doing in Hong Kong now?" Ren Shaobai replied with a smile. "She's currently the oldest student at the University of Hong Kong's Medical School. She said she'd always wanted to be a doctor, but after finishing high school, her father married her off to my dad, and she never got the chance. It wasn't until after my father passed away and I was somewhat independent that she could finally pursue what she wanted. Since then, most of her letters and calls to me have been about her studies, so I passively picked up some medical knowledge. Never thought it would actually come in handy one day. But medical school is no joke—every time I ask her why she hasn't graduated yet, she says I lack patience, which is probably why I only got a certificate of attendance from university..."

Ren Shaobai spoke with relish, while Peng Yongcheng looked at him in astonishment, as if gaining a whole new understanding of his character and personality.

He had assumed that those who went to Hong Kong in the later stages of the war were all there to escape the world and enjoy its pleasures. He never expected Ren Shaobai's mother to not only have the aspiration of "never being too old to learn" but also the determination to act regardless of others' opinions—enrolling in university after losing her husband must have drawn gossip. With a mother like that, it made sense why Ren Shaobai had defied organizational discipline by awakening from dormancy on his own initiative and why he never hesitated to make decisions and take action alone whenever unexpected situations arose.

"But if Okamura really had an incident after getting off the train, someone as meticulous as Li Helin might suspect you—even without evidence, suspicion alone puts you in danger." Peng Yongcheng sternly pointed out, unwittingly echoing Lan Youyin's words on the train.

Ren Shaobai neither agreed nor disagreed. Perhaps the events of this period had given him confidence, as if everything was unfolding exactly as he had hoped. Even Lu Peng had stopped mentioning the Silkworm Keeper and that informant half a month ago, focusing entirely on investigating a series of secret assassinations targeting former Military Intelligence Section personnel, centered around the bombing case.

What Peng Yongcheng feared most was that this might give Ren Shaobai a false sense of security.

"I suspect Okamura Neiji is heading to Jinan. Wang Yaowu has already come to Nanjing several times. Everyone in the Ministry of National Defense knows a battle in Jinan is inevitable. The top brass must be clutching at straws. But no matter what, we have to stop him before he causes real trouble for the Liberation Army." Ren Shaobai said urgently. "I'll find a way to locate the safe house where Okamura is currently staying. That way, the assassination plan can still proceed."

Peng Yongcheng, however, replied, "I need to report this to our superiors. Until the organization issues further instructions, you must not act recklessly again. It's also best we don't meet to avoid arousing Li Helin's suspicions."Ren Shaobai frowned slightly, feeling there was no time for hesitation, yet hearing Peng Yongcheng's unyielding tone, he ultimately said nothing more.

A few minutes later, the two stepped out of the Xingye Bank's entrance.

"Mr. Ren, the price of silver dollars changes daily. It's wise of you to exchange them early. As a valued client of our bank, I'm always at your service should you have any questions."

They played their roles flawlessly—the ever-smiling bank manager and the client who must not be offended. No one would suspect that their discussion in the upstairs office had nothing to do with deposits or financial planning.

Unless, of course, someone already had preconceived notions about Ren Shaobai's identity that others lacked.

That someone was Lan Youyin, standing inside the photography studio across the street.

Behind the glass display window, she peered through the gaps between the displayed photographs, spotting an unexpected person at an unexpected location on the opposite side of the road.

Just then, A Mang suddenly spoke up beside her: "I've seen that man before."

Lan Youyin turned to him. "Which one?"

"The one in the back, wearing the light suit. He came here a couple of days ago." He was referring to Peng Yongcheng, who had just escorted Ren Shaobai out.

Lan Youyin was startled. "What did he come for?"

"Nothing much," A Mang replied. "Just said he noticed the new shop and admired the photos in the window, so he came in to look." He watched as Peng Yongcheng turned back into the bank and disappeared behind its doors. "So he works at this bank. No wonder."

Yet Lan Youyin felt it wasn't that simple—especially seeing him interact with Ren Shaobai. By now, she had instinctively begun to regard anything and anyone connected to Ren Shaobai as worthy of attention and suspicion.

On the train, when Ren Shaobai had exposed the origin of her pistol—"The owner of Rongji Salt Company left something in the bank's safe deposit box. Who would've thought Director Lan could openly access it..."

So he had an informant at Xingye Bank. Or perhaps more than just an informant?

Come to think of it, her Colt pistol was still in Ren Shaobai's possession. The thought filled Lan Youyin with frustration and anger. Still, she reasoned that if Ren Shaobai were to betray her and report her, she now had evidence of him poisoning the coffee.

Mutual restraint was all about constantly weighing who held more leverage. And when it came down to the final confrontation, it would be a matter of who had less to lose. On this point, Lan Youyin was certain Ren Shaobai was destined to lose to her.

"If you see him with that man who just left again, take their photo," she instructed A Mang.

"Alright..." A Mang agreed, then suddenly remembered something. "You still don't plan to tell Wen Rang about any of this, do you?"

Lan Youyin looked at him and evaded the question with another: "Weren't you always complaining before that you were always the last to know about things? This time, you're ahead of him."

A Mang choked on his words, taking a long moment before replying, "But when I was the last to know, I'd just grumble a bit. If it were Wen Rang... I can just imagine how furious he'd be."

"Which is exactly why I told you from the start not to let him know." With that, Lan Youyin watched as Ren Shaobai across the street boarded a bus and drove off into the distance. She then bid farewell to A Mang and stepped out of the photography studio.Only after she left did A Mang belatedly realize: Wait, what exactly did he know? From the moment Lan Youyin asked him to investigate that Shanghai phone number, he had merely followed her instructions. As for what she was actually doing, he remained completely in the dark.

With no small amount of concern, he watched Lan Youyin's retreating figure. After hesitating for just a few seconds, he decided to send a message to Yin Wenrang.