Spying

42 Together in Death

If we were to describe what the Japanese invasion of China, beginning with the "September 18 Incident" in 1931, left behind for the people of this land, the most neutral and restrained way to put it would be the "hereditary" trauma that started from then.

Take Wei Ningsheng, for example, who managed to escape Nanjing in December 1937. Now, everyone praises his good-natured personality, but who would know that he still occasionally wakes from nightmares of being relentlessly pursued and surrounded by Japanese troops years ago? Then there’s his little sister, who was nearly abandoned. When she was four, the family suddenly discovered that she couldn’t hear out of one ear—perhaps due to the cold, or the distant cries and gunfire. So, even though that winter left no shadow in her still-forming memories, on a physical level, something was still taken from her.

Yet, the two of them were among the rare few who escaped the war without their families being torn apart.

Yin Wenrang wasn’t so lucky.

He was born in a village northeast of Beiping. His father taught at the only school in the area, while his mother’s family owned a few acres of land, making them a self-sufficient household. He had an older brother, much older than him, who joined a local militia after the neighboring Rehe Province was annexed by the puppet state of Manchukuo. Later, the militia merged with the Eighth Route Army, and his brother began guerrilla warfare against the Japanese.

Their father dreamed of sending his sons to university. With the eldest no longer an option, he pinned his hopes on the younger one. Fortunately, Yin Wenrang was indeed more studious than his brother and was admitted to a missionary-run high school in the county. After a few more years of schooling, a foreign teacher at the school, who had connections at Cheeloo University, wrote him a recommendation letter to take the entrance exam.

By then, Cheeloo University had already relocated from Jinan to Chengdu. Whether Yin Wenrang should go sparked a debate at home. His mother couldn’t bear to let him travel so far, but his father gritted his teeth and said, "Read ten thousand books, walk ten thousand miles." And so, Yin Wenrang made the long journey from the North China Plain to the Land of Abundance.

Little did he know that this journey would be the last time he ever saw his parents or brother.

He enrolled in the fall of 1940. Because of the distance, he only wrote letters home during the next two holidays. This wasn’t unusual or considered unfilial at the time—many college students did the same, fearing transportation issues or being delayed by the war, choosing instead to stay on campus during breaks. The young people gathered together, seldom homesick.

Because of this, when Okamura Neiji, commander of the Japanese Northern China Area Army, implemented the "Three Alls Policy"

The Japanese military strategy in Northern China, summarized as "burn all, kill all, loot all."

and created "no-man’s lands" in the Shanxi-Hebei-Shandong region during the summer and fall of 1941, Yin Wenrang, in his dormitory at Huaxi Campus, remained completely unaware.

Later, someone told him, "Because your brother was with the Eighth Route Army, the Japanese were even more brutal with them."

After that, he left the university for good. His professors, knowing of his family’s tragedy, kept his enrollment active and tried every means to contact him, urging him to return and finish his studies. But Yin Wenrang never went back—in the end, he failed his father’s expectations.It wasn't just about letting someone down. The not-yet-twenty youth shattered under successive blows of bad news—far less resilient than he'd imagined himself to be, choosing the easiest way to numb the pain. Had he not coincidentally reunited with Lan Youyin a few years later, he might have truly remained broken, addicted to opium in his twenties and dying in some alley.

With Lan Youyin and A Mang's help, he kicked his opium habit. Lan Youyin even tracked down the traitor who had informed the Japanese about his brother being a Communist soldier. But before he could exact revenge, the war ended. The former informant was himself denounced for past crimes and ultimately executed before a jeering crowd.

The Japanese, unfortunately, weren't so easily dealt with.

The perpetrators of atrocities were faceless ghosts in the crowd, but if one traced responsibility upward...

Even someone as slow-witted as Lu A'mang understood why Lan Youyin dared not tell Yin Wenrang about Okamura Neiji when reading the newspaper headline aloud.

"We shouldn't have trusted the Chiang faction. Thinking we could try him in Shanghai instead of Tokyo—what a joke. Policies change overnight. If they can do this today, tomorrow public pressure might force them to acquit him in court."

Yin Wenrang slammed his fist on the table, then fixed Lan Youyin with a stare. "You know where he is?"

"He's under protection now. No one can get near him." Lan Youyin avoided the question.

"So you do know where he is." The question became a statement. Yin Wenrang's sharp gaze made it clear the idea Lan Youyin feared had already taken root.

"You'd have to be insane to even consider it—to think it's possible."

"And what you've been doing all along—isn't that insane too?"

Lan Youyin turned to A Mang. "You started this. You talk him out of it."

A Mang set down the newspaper, having just finished the unsigned article. Unlike Yin Wenrang's fury, his expression showed mostly confusion. "Why are they protecting him? What's their reason for springing him?"

This gave both men pause. They'd been so consumed by anger or preventing anger that they'd overlooked the fundamental question.

Lan Youyin didn't know the answer, but someone certainly did.

The weeks before Mid-Autumn Festival were always the busiest for government offices after Lunar New Year, with finance and HR departments calculating performance reviews and next quarter's budgets. But this year, unsurprisingly, the General Staff Department of the Defense Ministry focused on another matter entirely.

After Nanjing's local papers exposed Okamura Neiji's secret release, the Second Department director faced immediate accountability. As for why Li Helin—who'd escorted the prisoner from Shanghai—wasn't implicated? Because the Xinmin Evening News article mentioned the tip about Okamura came after he'd been moved to the safe house arranged by Director Hou—by which time Li Helin had already been excluded from the operation.

Even Director Hou was shocked to see the article's named source: Okamura's personal physician, fellow Japanese Jin Chuanlong—"Ten years ago, Jin Chuanlong, who was practicing medicine in Shanghai, was recommended to join the Japanese Army Brigade as a military doctor to serve the Emperor. However, after witnessing the atrocities committed by the Japanese forces in Central China during the Wuhan Campaign, he resigned from his military post in 1940 and returned to Shanghai. His exclusive revelation to our newspaper stems from his shame as a Japanese national in China, unable to tolerate war criminals escaping due punishment and unwilling to see the Chinese people deceived and harmed again..."

For those familiar with Nanjing's journalism scene, it wasn't hard to recognize the distinctive writing style of Zhu Yanjun, who had frequently penned sensational articles for Wenhui Bao . The reason this piece was published in Xinmin Evening News was due to another major incident in Nanjing's press—Ouyang Shu, the branch editor of Wenhui Bao , had fled to Communist-controlled areas, giving the Nanjing government an excuse to shut down the newspaper.

Yet many claimed Ouyang Shu had been secretly "dealt with" by the authorities.

Regardless, Wenhui Bao , once renowned for its sharp critiques of current affairs, vanished overnight, leaving its reporters and editors to fend for themselves. Zhu Yanjun joined Xinmin Evening News , presenting this exclusive report as her "gift," destined to become another sensation.

Her new employers had no idea how this article had been crafted or who was pulling the strings behind her.

Only then did Shen Tong realize how ruthlessly efficient his uncle's methods were. In the blink of an eye, a newspaper that had long vexed the Nationalist government was dismantled, and a reporter now under his control was planted in another. From then on, Xinmin Evening News ' political coverage would serve as his personal mouthpiece. As for Jin Chuanlong's testimony—whether true or fabricated—it undoubtedly bore Li Helin's influence, compelling the Japanese man to "betray" his own people and former military superiors.

What Shen Tong hadn't anticipated was that the Ministry of National Defense, pressured into holding a press conference, no longer had Director Hou presiding.

Li Helin faced the room of journalists with solemnity. "The Ministry of National Defense has not released war criminals. Okamura Neiji is merely assisting in investigations regarding the takeover of Japanese-collaborationist enterprises. The public misunderstanding arose from our failure to uphold principles of transparency. Thus, effective today, I will temporarily assume Director Hou's duties to report on Okamura Neiji's itinerary in Nanjing, hoping to dispel public concerns..."

Before he could finish, the room erupted in uproar. His brief statement revealed two major developments: Director Hou had been suspended for mishandling the situation, and Li Helin, the former office director, was now acting director.

Amid the crowd, someone raised a hand. Li Helin scanned the room and granted the first question to Zhu Yanjun, now bearing her new press credentials.

"Acting Director, when will Okamura Neiji return to Shanghai for trial?"

"After the Mid-Autumn Festival."

...

After organizing the financial documents, Lan Youyin chatted casually with her colleague, inevitably touching on the hottest topic of the moment. She joked offhandedly, "Are you rushing to process the security budget for that man?"

"Oh, no, that's being handled through the Honggongci accounts."

Lan Youyin froze.After seeing off the personnel from the Finance Bureau, she went to the archives. The gray cabinets were filled with various files, stretching from the east wall to the west and from the floor to the ceiling, with labels on each drawer indicating its contents.

In the personal index section, Lan Youyin found Ren Shaobai's name.

She had originally only intended to find his home phone number and address, but upon opening the file, she unexpectedly discovered something else that caught her eye.

When Ren Shaobai stepped into the photo studio located at Xinjiekou, he inexplicably felt as though he had entered the inner sanctum.

So this was Lan Youyin and her team's "headquarters"—though the team consisted of only three people. This fact made him marvel inwardly. Just these three individuals before him had, like hunters, repeatedly succeeded in their operations against the Confidentiality Bureau's "headquarters," even nearly outmaneuvering seasoned special agents like Lu Peng with their schemes.

Meeting Yin Wenrang's astonished gaze, his first words were: "Was it also you that night at the Rongji Salt Shop's warehouse?"

Hearing his use of the word "also," Yin Wenrang's mind raced before realizing where else he had seen this seemingly unremarkable man besides yesterday on the plane—

"You're that drunk at the International Club who smashed his glass after two sips of red wine!"

Ren Shaobai choked, then slowly spoke into the silence of the room: "I was... pretending..." But that wasn't important. He blinked and decided to brush past the details, saying instead, "Section Chief Lan arranged to meet me here without avoiding these two... friends. Does that mean you plan to silence me for good?"

After a day apart, he had regained his usual worldly, slick, and affected demeanor. Lan Youyin found it irritating, yet she had to admit that the familiarity had returned.

"About Okamura Neiji's arrival in Nanjing, ask him—he was the one who brought him here," she said to Yin Wenrang and A Mang, pointing at Ren Shaobai.

"Tsk!" Ren Shaobai exclaimed, jumping back before anyone could react, half-jokingly protesting, "Section Chief Lan, how have I offended you that you'd resort to this to ruin me? Gentlemen, I'm just a lowly errand boy—I didn't volunteer to become a traitor to our nation—"

"What exactly is Chiang planning?" Yin Wenrang cut off his exaggerated performance, asking sternly. "Why is he protecting that Japanese devil?"

A Mang added, "Don't give us any nonsense about investigating Japanese-collaborator enterprises. We don't buy it."

Faced with their interrogation, Ren Shaobai paused, then composed himself. Glancing at Lan Youyin, he sighed and explained, "Since last year, the Nationalist forces have suffered defeats on the frontlines. The higher-ups have made one blunder after another. Now, with losses mounting north of the Yangtze, they want to leverage the Japanese's past experience fighting the Communists, appointing Okamura Neiji as a secret military advisor. There's even talk that after crossing the river, they plan to have him organize a Japanese military unit as foreign reinforcements to resist the Communists."

As he spoke, Yin Wenrang and A Mang gradually wore expressions of disbelief. After a long silence, A Mang blurted out, "How can you Communists tolerate this? Why not just assassinate him?"

Ren Shaobai turned to Lan Youyin. "Why did you tell them everything about me?!"

Lan Youyin replied nonchalantly, "If they're to work with you, they naturally need to know your background.""Plotting something?" Ren Shaobai raised an eyebrow. "The three of you are exceptional talents. What could you possibly need my help with?"

Lan Youyin replied, "You've got it wrong. It's not about you helping us—it's about us helping you."

Ren Shaobai asked, "What do you mean by that, Section Chief Lan?"

"Assassinating Okamura Neiji alone is too difficult, and the Communists won’t be providing you any assistance this time." Lan Youyin tilted her chin toward the other two beside her. "Though we don’t operate under the black market’s banner, assassination is a skill honed by practice. Besides, thanks to you, we even have a modified rifle."

Ren Shaobai was stunned. So they’d helped themselves to quite a few things from the Nationalist Military Supplies! But—

"Who said anything about assassination? You might not know this, but we’ve long abandoned such methods. All those false accusations pinned on us—" He began to ramble again, deflecting with his usual flair for diversion.

But Lan Youyin cut him off. "Your father died in the Great Wall Campaign. One of its commanders was Okamura Neiji. Ren Shaobai, even if the Communists preach procedural justice as you say, humans are still driven by emotions—love, hate, vengeance. Why deny that you want revenge?"

Her gaze held an unmistakable message: How about a real collaboration this time?