Spying

36 Heishui

Before April 1948, Weixian was known as the "Fortress of Central Shandong" for the Nationalist forces. When the Communist Party's Shandong Corps advanced toward it, both the city's defending commander Chen Jincheng and Wang Yaowu, commander of the Second Pacification Zone, believed this city—with its extremely solid defensive system—was impregnable.

Yet twenty days later, Chen Jincheng’s telegram to Wang Yaowu had changed to: "The battle situation is critical. Planning to retreat to Cangshang immediately." A few hours after that, he was captured.

Along with him, over 20,000 officers and soldiers were taken prisoner, including more than a hundred high-ranking officers at the general and colonel levels.

But "Heishui" was not among them.

Originally an intelligence officer under Chen Jincheng’s Reorganized 96th Army, Heishui received a secret telegram from the Second Department of the Ministry of National Defense in the early hours before the Communist forces breached Weixian. He was ordered to leave the unit with a few intelligence operatives, disguise themselves as local civilians, and establish an underground radio group after the city fell. He himself was to infiltrate the Communist forces and lie low, awaiting further orders.

On April 27, the Battle of Weixian concluded, and the Communist troops entered the city to take control. The local populace, who had long suffered under the brutality of landlord militias, lined the streets to welcome them—Heishui among them. A few days later, during an evening when a cultural troupe performed the opera The White-Haired Girl for soldiers and civilians, he successfully gained the sympathy of a Party cadre with a tragic story of "having his wife and mother killed while resisting the Nationalist security forces." Because he was literate and educated, he was recommended to the propaganda section of the Ninth Column’s Political Department as a clerk.

Afterward, he followed the Shandong Corps through battles in Tai’an, Qufu, and Yanzhou. Within just a few months, upon returning to Weixian, he knew the Communists’ next target would be the isolated city of Jinan.

This was why Wang Yaowu had repeatedly traveled to Nanjing since May. Both the Nationalists and Communists foresaw that Jinan would inevitably become a bloody battleground. By early September, the East China Field Army began converging toward Jinan, and Heishui obtained a battle plan detailing the siege sequence, troop movements, positions, and more.

Before Ren Shaobai and Ouyang Shu’s jeep entered Weixian, it underwent rigorous inspection at the final checkpoint—likely due to the impending battle, with fears of spies infiltrating.

A PLA soldier in yellow-green uniform saluted at the car window and said to the occupants, "Please present your identification."

Ren Shaobai and Ouyang Shu handed over their ID cards and press credentials.

After examining the documents, the soldier saluted again. "Ah, reporters from Wenhui Bao ! Minister Cai mentioned you. Welcome to the liberated areas. However, please open the hood and trunk for inspection."

Ren Shaobai complied, and several other checkpoint soldiers began searching the vehicle, with one even sliding underneath to inspect the chassis. Once the inspection concluded, the first soldier smiled and said, "Thank you for your cooperation. We wish you a successful interview."

They entered Weixian.

As previously arranged, they met the political officer who had contacted Ouyang Shu outside a prisoner-of-war camp.

"You’ve arrived at just the right time. We’re preparing to release a batch of prisoners—letting them return home or go to Jinan to tell their Nationalist comrades that if they defect to our side, they’ll be taken care of!" Minister Cai spoke with hearty enthusiasm, personally guiding the two around the area.Ren Shaobai carried a notebook, looking every bit the journalist as he walked and took notes. He even conducted earnest interviews with several Nationalist military dependents receiving travel allowances, learning they had been separated from their families during previous battles. Some had children with them, uncertain whether their husbands were now in Jinan, Xuzhou, or Qingdao, and could only return to their parents' homes for now to figure things out later. Ouyang Shu, with his camera hanging around his neck, took a few photos of them. Ren Shaobai glanced at him but said nothing.

They also encountered Nationalist officers and soldiers in awkward positions—neither daring to return to Jinan nor truly able to defect. They would stop Ouyang Shu from taking photos, fearing publication might endanger family members still in Nationalist-controlled areas. Some mentioned comrades who had gone to help the Communist forces repair the Jiaoji Railway, but they hadn’t joined, saying, "We’re not as strong-willed as them—can’t quite cross that mental hurdle yet."

Despite this, the People’s Liberation Army treated them well. One Nationalist soldier captured in Yanzhou told Ren Shaobai he had even run into an elementary school classmate here—except the other man was with the receiving troops outside the prisoner camp.

Ren Shaobai thought, This is civil war.

By the time they finished their "interviewing" duties, it was already evening. Minister Cai was about to take them to the Ninth Column’s headquarters to settle in for dinner when suddenly, someone called out from behind them: "Reporters from Nanjing—wait a moment!"

The three turned to see a Nationalist prisoner of war limping toward them. When Ren Shaobai recognized his face, his heart leaped into his throat.

Pei Tianjun, a graduate of the 17th class of the Central Military Academy, had once lived in the dormitory next to Ren Shaobai’s.

Before setting out, Li Helin had warned him: if his identity were exposed, the Ministry of National Defense would not rescue him—no one would admit to sending spies into enemy territory during wartime. At the same time, he knew that as "Agent 1207," he absolutely could not be "arrested" by his own side. Even if Peng Yongcheng and the Central Social Department could clear his name, doing so would ruin his undercover work for the Ministry of National Defense.

No matter what, in Weixian, he could not be exposed as Ren Shaobai, an employee of the Nationalist government. He could only be Huang Qiang, the journalist.

And now Pei Tianjun—whom he recognized instantly and was certain recognized him just as quickly—was approaching unevenly, stopping just a step away, raising his hand in a military salute.

Ren Shaobai’s mind raced. If he calls out my name in the next second, how do I respond?

But when Pei Tianjun spoke, he said: "Reporter, I am Pei Tianjun, battalion commander of the 8th Battalion, 121st Brigade, 45th Division. Could I ask you to pass a message to my wife and child in Nanjing? They live at No. 17 Zhonglan Lane. Please tell them I’m already gone. If she wants to return to her parents or leave Nanjing, she shouldn’t hesitate on my account."

Ren Shaobai stared at him, stunned. In those brief seconds, he saw in Pei Tianjun’s eyes that he had recognized him instantly—yet had no intention of exposing him to curry favor with the Communists. He only wanted him to deliver a message.

Before Ren Shaobai could speak, Minister Cai interjected: "Major Pei, there’s no need for such words. Once we liberate Nanjing, you’ll naturally reunite with your family."Pei Tianjun merely gave him a cold glance and said, "Those who follow different paths cannot make plans together. Though I am now your captive, I cannot speak of liberation." He then turned to Ren Shaobai, "Reporter, I won't be returning. I hope you can do me this favor."

Ren Shaobai nodded. "Number 17, Zhonglan Lane. I’ll remember it."

Leaving the prisoner camp, Ren Shaobai remained silent the entire way, and Ouyang Shu found it awkward to speak. It was Minister Cai who broke the silence. "That Major Pei’s words were indeed hard to hear. But once he realizes, this so-called 'different path' is just empty rhetoric. In the end, aren’t we all Chinese? The Kuomintang tells him to believe in the Three Principles of the People, but we Communists are the ones actually putting them into practice. A good leader isn’t about what they say but what they truly do. Once we liberate all of China from Old Chiang’s grip and everyone lives a better life, what’s the point of talking about different paths? We’ll all be working toward the same goal..."

The Ninth Column headquarters was set up in the western outskirts of the city. By the time Ren Shaobai and his group arrived, it was already dark.

Having missed the troops’ collective dinner time, the two followed Minister Cai to the political department’s office for their meal. The so-called office was actually a simple farmhouse where Minister Cai both worked and slept. To Ren Shaobai’s surprise, the PLA’s rations weren’t as bad as he had imagined. The stir-fried pork with scallions and egg noodles delivered by the kitchen squad weren’t special dishes for guests or officers but the standard meal for the night.

From what Ren Shaobai knew, frontline Nationalist soldiers, due to layers of exploitation by their superiors, had strict rice rations daily, let alone any nutritious balance of meat and vegetables. Sometimes, they had to make do with just chili paste. He couldn’t help but think of Pei Tianjun again, who must have experienced this even more acutely.

After dinner, Minister Cai had an orderly take Ren Shaobai and Ouyang Shu to settle in for the night. They would stay at the headquarters overnight before setting off the next day to Dawenkou and Sishui to continue their "interviews." Their lodging was originally a small granary, now furnished with two camp beds—one for Ren Shaobai and one for Ouyang Shu.

The orderly warned them not to wander around at night, but Ren Shaobai quickly mentioned he needed to refuel the jeep.

"We brought our own spare fuel tank," he said, implying they wouldn’t use the headquarters’ military fuel.

The orderly waved his hand and called over a young soldier who looked no older than sixteen or seventeen to accompany him to the parking area. After refueling, Ren Shaobai circled the car to inspect it. The young soldier watched curiously as he popped open the hood and suddenly exclaimed, "Oh no!"

"What’s wrong?" the young soldier asked nervously.

Ren Shaobai straightened up and pointed inside. "There’s a loose nut here. Do you have a wrench?"

"Yes, wait here. I’ll go get one," the young soldier said eagerly before darting off.

Ren Shaobai leaned against the car to wait. A minute later, a man holding a kerosene lamp in his left hand and a wooden toolbox in his right approached him and asked, "Is this car American or Japanese-made?"

Ren Shaobai replied, "It’s German-made."

"I happen to have the right tools for German cars."He placed the wooden toolbox in his hand onto the engine and opened it, retrieving the battle plan for the attack on Jinan from beneath the wrench.

Ren Shaobai tucked the plan into the compartment on the side of the spare fuel tank.

They had completed the handover.

According to the plan, Heishui should have left immediately after the exchange. Yet he remained standing there, his eyes fixed on Ren Shaobai.

Ren Shaobai frowned slightly and spoke in a low, urgent voice, "You should go now."

"I want to leave with you," Heishui suddenly said.

"What?"

"I can't stay here any longer. I can't take it anymore. Sooner or later, I'll be discovered..." Heishui looked at Ren Shaobai, voicing words he shouldn’t have spoken.

Ren Shaobai tensed, but before he could respond, the young orderly who had gone to fetch the wrench returned. Spotting Heishui, the soldier grinned and said, "Brother Wanqian, what are you doing here?"

Heishui’s cover name here was Liang Wanqian. His expression shifted instantly as he closed the toolbox and replied, "Oh, the Ninth Platoon said a motorcycle’s spark plug was burnt out, so I came to replace it. I happened to run into this comrade here and checked his vehicle too."

"All fixed?" The young soldier, unsuspecting, leaned in to peer under the jeep’s hood.

"Yeah, it was the connection between the hose and the radiator. Lucky we caught it in time—otherwise, it would’ve leaked on the road."

Ren Shaobai chimed in, "Right, thanks to this comrade. Sorry for the extra trouble."

"Hey, no problem at all. As long as the vehicle’s fixed, that’s what matters—won’t delay your trip tomorrow." The soldier beamed. "Brother Wanqian really is something, skilled in both brains and brawn—oh, right! Brother Wanqian, this is Reporter Huang, here for an interview. Reporter Huang, Brother Wanqian is from our propaganda department. Actually, aren’t you two sort of colleagues?"

"Is that so?" Ren Shaobai lowered the hood and extended a hand toward Heishui. "Comrade Wanqian, thanks for the tools."

Heishui quickly set down the toolbox and shook his hand. "So you’re the reporter. You’re too kind. Hope your interview goes well—write a great article."

In that brief handshake, Ren Shaobai caught a look of near-desperate pleading in Heishui’s eyes.

But Heishui eventually released his grip, picked up the toolbox, and turned to leave—despite that momentary lapse, reason told him he shouldn’t have any further contact with the courier sent by the Ministry of Defense.

"Wait," Ren Shaobai suddenly called out.

Heishui turned back.

"I’m very curious about the work of your propaganda department." Ren Shaobai glanced at the young soldier beside him and asked, "I’d like to arrange an impromptu interview with Comrade Wanqian tomorrow morning. Do you think Minister Cai would approve?"

The soldier blinked, excitement in his voice. "Brother Wanqian, you’re going to be in the papers?"

Ren Shaobai then asked Heishui, "Comrade Wanqian, would that work for you?"

Heishui met his gaze and nodded solemnly. "If Minister Cai agrees, I have no objections."

"Good. If Minister Cai approves, I’ll come find you after breakfast tomorrow."

When Ren Shaobai’s new proposal was reported, Minister Cai agreed without hesitation.

Back in the barn, Ouyang Shu stood up nervously from the camp bed and asked, "What took you so long? I thought—"Ren Shaobai interrupted him, "It's nothing. Get some rest early; we have a long journey ahead tomorrow."

Then, with his back turned to Ouyang Shu, he fished out a small metal flask from his luggage bag.

This was the final instruction Li Helin had given him when assigning the intelligence handover mission.

—"If Heishui expresses a desire to leave the Communist-controlled area with you, that becomes your 'additional task.' When a spy believes they can no longer continue their undercover work, it means they’ve already turned disloyal. Staying any longer would either lead to exposure or defection to the Communist Party. Such a spy is like a ticking time bomb—but one that harms not the enemy, but ourselves."

That was what Li Helin had said, and the "prop" he handed to Ren Shaobai was a solution of hydrogen cyanide—meant to defuse the ticking bomb.