Spying

37 Ouyang Shu

The night in Wei County was nothing like the regions south of the Yangtze River, already carrying the biting chill of autumn. The wind sweeping in from the hills of Jiaodong battered against the tung oil-paper windows, howling as if eager to tear through that thin barrier at any moment.

Just like the urgency in Heishui’s eyes earlier.

He regarded Ren Shaobai as "one of his own," someone he had to speak to no matter what. He knew that if Ren Shaobai left the next day, it might be years before he saw another comrade again. Fortunately, due to the harrowing experiences he had "endured" as Liang Wanqian, Minister Cai immediately approved Ren Shaobai’s request to interview him the following morning, intending to expose the past atrocities of the Kuomintang reactionaries.

Lying on the camp bed, Ren Shaobai kept his eyes closed but couldn’t sleep. His thoughts drifted between Heishui and Pei Tianjun. He wondered if, without this war, none of them would be trapped in their current predicaments.

Then, from the other end of the barn, came a faint rustling sound—

Ren Shaobai didn’t open his eyes, but he could tell it was Ouyang Shu getting out of bed.

"Reporter Huang, Reporter Huang," the real branch director of Wen Hui Bao called softly. When there was no response, he paused before trying one last time, "Mr. Ren?"

Still no reaction. Only the steady, even sound of breathing came from Ren Shaobai’s bed.

Another rustle followed as Ouyang Shu dressed and slipped on his shoes in the dark, then crept toward the door. He moved carefully, trying not to make a sound, but as he opened the door, the long-neglected hinges let out a sharp creak—

Ouyang Shu froze mid-motion, too terrified to move. He stiffly turned his head, checking to see if Ren Shaobai had been disturbed.

Ren Shaobai thought this behavior was undeniably clumsy. Whether it was stopping halfway while opening the door or anxiously waiting for any reaction from the other person in the room, it all pointed to one thing: his reason for leaving was something he couldn’t openly admit.

Then, with another creak, the doors shut, and Ouyang Shu left the barn.

Ren Shaobai sighed, sat up abruptly, and wondered: What act is this one trying to pull now?

He swiftly got out of bed, decisively opened and closed the door behind him, and quietly followed Ouyang Shu’s shadow under the moonlight. Soon, he watched as the man took a familiar path to the only lit office in the camp—the command headquarters.

Ouyang Shu knocked on the fence gate outside, and shortly after, Minister Cai emerged. Without a word, the two exchanged nods before entering the building together—clearly a prearranged meeting. From the shadows cast on the window, it was evident there was another person inside.

Ren Shaobai didn’t dare get too close, hiding instead behind the fence outside the house. He could faintly hear voices from inside but couldn’t make out the conversation.

Just then, someone suddenly tapped his shoulder from behind. Ren Shaobai whipped around and saw, in the pitch-black night, a figure raising a finger to his lips in a gesture for silence. Stunned, Ren Shaobai traced the silhouette to the face—it was Heishui, the man he wasn’t supposed to see again until dawn.Heishui silently pulled him to the other side of the house, quietly parting a section of the fence near the ground to reveal a hidden opening. Before Ren Shaobai could think, Heishui pushed him through the hole. Following closely behind, the two crawled toward the house and pressed their backs against the wall beneath a window, allowing them to overhear the conversation inside.

"...I don’t know the specifics of his mission, but it must already be completed. So I suggest that before we depart tomorrow, you find an excuse to search him again—or detain and interrogate him directly. Otherwise, once we leave Weixian, he’ll head straight for Jinan, and you’ll never even know what intelligence you’ve lost." It was Ouyang Shu’s voice.

For a moment, Ren Shaobai’s mind went blank—and he felt Heishui’s gaze turn toward him.

Was this betrayal?

Inside the room, a middle-aged man who hadn’t appeared during the day sat on a kang, smoking dry tobacco as he listened to Ouyang Shu explain how he had been sent by the Ministry of National Defense as cover for a spy to exchange intelligence in Weixian. But unwilling to be controlled, he had instead decided to defect, exposing the fake journalist—and real spy—traveling with him to prove his loyalty.

After Ouyang Shu finished speaking, the man slowly removed the pipe from his lips, tapped the bowl against the edge of the kang, and then looked up leisurely. "Why are you telling us this? You came with him—surely the Nationalists promised you no small reward?"

Ouyang Shu replied, "I was coerced into this by Li Helin from the Second Bureau of the Ministry of National Defense."

"So you planned from the start to pretend to be his cover? If that’s the case, you could have revealed yourself to Minister Cai as soon as we entered liberated territory. Why wait until night to secretly pass us a signal and speak behind his back instead of confronting him openly during the day?"

Cornered, Ouyang Shu’s tone grew impatient. "Doesn’t the Communist Party claim to treat defectors well? I risked exposing a spy sent to exchange intelligence, and yet you question me at every turn?"

"Because we need to determine whether you’re genuinely defecting—or just an opportunist playing both sides."

"How dare you say that!" Ouyang Shu raised his voice.

"President Ouyang, don’t be angry," Minister Cai finally interjected soothingly. "Political Commissar Lin isn’t unwelcoming. Of course, we welcome friends who choose to join us, but we also have our vetting procedures. It’s not a question of your sincerity—"

Before Minister Cai could finish, a sudden noise from outside the window startled all three men. The middle-aged man addressed as Political Commissar Lin immediately stood alert, using his pipe to push the window open and peer outside.

"Meow—"

The sound of a cat reassured them—just a stray wandering at night.

Closing the window, Political Commissar Lin turned back to Ouyang Shu. "You said this Huang Qiang—what’s his real name?"

"Ren Shaobai," Ouyang Shu answered promptly. "A trusted subordinate of Li Helin."

"Haven’t heard of him before." Political Commissar Lin took another drag from his pipe. "Lao Cai, do you recognize the name?"Minister Cai shook his head and continued speaking amiably to Ouyang Shu, "Thank you for reporting this matter to me. However, I have another question. If Ren Shaobai fails his mission and dies here, and you return to Nanjing alone, how will you explain this to Li Helin?"

Ouyang Shu had clearly considered this question before and replied without hesitation, "That's where I'll need your cooperation. Extract the intelligence Ren Shaobai obtained, then prepare a fake version for me to take back to Li Helin. I'll tell him it's the information Ren Shaobai entrusted to me before he died. This way, I can fulfill my duty, and you can use the false intelligence to mislead them."

That was indeed a solution. Minister Cai and Political Commissar Lin exchanged glances.

"Zhu Zi said, 'Do unto others as they do unto you,'" Ouyang Shu added.

"Very well, President Ouyang. Thank you for the valuable information you've provided," Minister Cai nodded. "However, we still need to discuss the specifics of how to handle that Nationalist spy. For now, you should go and rest. Everything will be settled by daybreak."

Ouyang Shu glanced at the two men, feeling he had said all he could, then stood up. Minister Cai escorted him out once more.

When Minister Cai returned to the room, Political Commissar Lin asked him directly, "Do you trust him?"

Minister Cai replied, "No. I think he's trying to play both sides. Who knows what he'll say to Li Helin once he's back in Nanjing?"

"Exactly. I don't believe he ever intended to follow through with this plan. After touring our command center today, he just wanted to leave himself an escape route. No matter which side he ends up with, he'll have a story ready."

"But what about Huang Qiang—or Ren Shaobai? How should we handle them?"

Political Commissar Lin thought for a moment. "We should contact Central Command immediately and report the situation. As far as I know, we still have our own people in Chiang's Defense Ministry. We need to verify what mission Ren Shaobai is really here for. Isn't he scheduled to interview the propaganda department comrades tomorrow morning? We'll try to buy some time. By then, Central Command should have further instructions."

"Good. I'll have the radio operator send the message now," Minister Cai said.

Meanwhile, back in the barn, Ouyang Shu glanced at Ren Shaobai's camp bed and saw him still sound asleep, bundled in his quilt. He breathed a sigh of relief, believing he had paved another path for his future. As he moved to his own bed and was about to lie down, he felt something cold press against his temple.

"President Ouyang, where did you just go?" Ren Shaobai's icy voice came from behind him.

He stepped around to face Ouyang Shu, the barrel of his gun shifting from his scalp to the center of his forehead.

In the pitch darkness, the lenses of his glasses reflected a faint glimmer. Ouyang Shu couldn't suppress a shiver but forced himself to remain calm. "I went to relieve myself."

Ren Shaobai shook his head. "You're lying. You went to see the Communist minister and political commissar. You told them I'm not a journalist from your newspaper but a spy from the Defense Ministry here to gather intelligence. President Ouyang, what is this—a last-minute decision to defect?"

"No!" Ouyang Shu denied immediately. "You've misunderstood. That's not what I meant. I was—""He's playing both sides, swaying left and right, waiting to see which way the wind blows," another voice suddenly spoke up.

The person who had been lying on Ren Shaobai's bed rolled over and sat up. Ouyang Shu was startled but dared not turn his head to look, as the gun was still pressed against his skull. Only when the speaker walked into view did he see the yellow-green military uniform, and his heart sank. He realized this must be the Nationalist spy embedded within the Communist forces—Ren Shaobai's mission in Communist territory was to make contact with him!

Ouyang Shu felt sweat dampening his temples and began to regret his recklessness. While Ren Shaobai was away refueling the car, he had slipped a note to Minister Cai's orderly, thinking he wouldn’t be noticed sneaking out at midnight. But now, his plan had failed at the last hurdle.

"What a headache," Ren Shaobai deliberately feigned distress. "These types are the hardest to deal with. You could say he’s deceiving both sides, but he’s also given each a bit of genuine intel. What’s your next move? Pretend to return to Nanjing, use a bit of self-inflicted suffering to convince Director Li you narrowly escaped death, then report the situation here—effectively becoming a double agent?"

Ouyang Shu steeled himself, forcing calm. Staring at the gun barrel pressed to his forehead, it suddenly struck him: Ren Shaobai wouldn’t fire. This was the Communist command center, deep in the quiet of night. A gunshot would draw attention, and Ren Shaobai wouldn’t escape either. If he could stall until dawn, when Minister Cai sent reinforcements, there might still be a chance.

"He wants to be Zhou Fohai, but he’s forgotten how Zhou Fohai ended up," Heishui spoke again.

"No! It’s not what you think! I was acting on Director Li’s orders!" In desperation, Ouyang Shu concocted a counterintelligence ploy on the spot. "Ren Shaobai, have you ever wondered why you were the one sent here? Because Director Li no longer trusts you. He secretly instructed me to use the Communist Party to eliminate you. So it’s not me betraying you—it’s Li Helin." His gaze shifted to Heishui. "As for you, why don’t you check Ren Shaobai’s pockets right now? There should be a silver flask. It’s filled with cyanide solution—prepared for you, if I’m not mistaken."

Though the barn was pitch black, Ouyang Shu could clearly see Heishui’s expression freeze. Ren Shaobai’s grip on the gun tightened, his knuckles turning white. The previously united front against Ouyang Shu now crackled with a completely different tension.

Ouyang Shu knew he had gambled right—at least halfway.

While Ren Shaobai was away, he had rifled through his belongings, hoping to find evidence to hand over to Minister Cai. Though he found none, he had discovered the small, flat flask. Unscrewing it, he caught a whiff of almonds. He had returned it immediately but couldn’t stop wondering: Who had prepared it? And for whom?

Regardless of the intended target, in this life-or-death moment, Ouyang Shu decided to use it to drive a wedge between Li Helin’s other two pawns.

Heishui’s eyes locked onto Ren Shaobai, then dropped to his collar. Before Ren Shaobai could explain, Heishui swiftly drew a pistol from his waistband and aimed it at the man he had, mere seconds ago, considered an ally.Ren Shaobai realized that at some point, he had developed a habit—the more critical the situation, the more his mind would involuntarily wander, as if observing from the outside, pondering what kind of environment he was currently in.

If all the lies, disguises, and pretenses were stripped away, this would actually be a very logical triangular relationship.

Himself, a Communist Party spy who had infiltrated the Nationalist military apparatus for years; Heishui, a Nationalist intelligence operative embedded in the Communist frontline forces; and Ouyang Shu, a sanctimonious, opportunistic scoundrel trying to play both sides.

Thinking about it this way, Ren Shaobai found Ouyang Shu the most detestable of the three.

"President Ouyang truly lives up to his reputation as a renowned editor in the journalism world, spinning tales on the spot. Just a bit lacking in logic," he said unhurriedly. "You claim Director Li suspects me? Why would he suspect me? That I harbor disloyalty? And the evidence is that I planned to poison his intelligence officer with cyanide? Then I must be with the Communist Party!" As he spoke, Ren Shaobai even chuckled. "Then sending me here would truly be setting a tiger loose in the mountains—playing right into my hands."

Ouyang Shu faltered slightly but still stiffened his neck to retort, "Then tell me, what was that bottle of cyanide for? Don’t tell me it was for yourself. If you were preparing for suicide, it’d be pills or capsules, not a solution conveniently suited for poisoning others."

"Who said that was cyanide?" Ren Shaobai’s smile deepened. Keeping his right hand on the gun, he reached into his coat with his left.

But the slender barrel of Heishui’s gun pressed precisely against his heart. "Don’t move," Heishui warned.

Ren Shaobai raised his hands. "Then search me yourself."

Heishui reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a metal flask. "What’s this?"

"Whiskey."

"What?"

"Whiskey. It’s my first time on a mission in Communist territory. I was nervous, so I brought it to steady my nerves."

Heishui frowned, still eyeing Ren Shaobai skeptically.

"If you don’t believe me, open it and take a whiff. Or pour it straight into my mouth—I could use some right now."

Heishui unscrewed the cap with one hand and sniffed. It did carry the smoky scent of alcohol.

"Impossible!" Ouyang Shu raised his voice, but before the words fully left his mouth, Ren Shaobai swung the butt of his gun hard against his head.

The blow sent Ouyang Shu staggering sideways, and Heishui followed up with a kick that knocked him to the ground. Before he could even cry out, Ren Shaobai swiftly clamped a hand over his mouth, grabbed a handful of dry straw from the barn floor, and stuffed it in.

As Ouyang Shu tried to mumble through the gag, Ren Shaobai raised a hand to chop his neck and knock him out—but Heishui was faster. He seized Ouyang Shu’s head from behind. Realizing his intent, Ren Shaobai moved to stop him, but Heishui’s hands were already in motion, twisting the man’s neck sharply backward—

The man who, just a minute ago, had nearly turned the tide with his words now lay silently on the ground, motionless.