Spying

45 Assassination

No one had expected that the opportunity to assassinate Okamura Neiji would arrive even sooner than anticipated.

On the dawn before the Mid-Autumn Festival, the Communist East China Field Army launched a surprise attack on Jinan, Shandong.

Wang Yaowu, who had obtained what his staff deemed reliable intelligence days earlier, now discovered that the East China Field Army’s target was not the airfield in the western part of the city—or rather, not just the west. Instead, they were launching simultaneous assaults on Jinan from all directions, spanning a hundred miles east, west, north, and south.

The Second Suijing District Military Hospital urgently ordered Yin Wenrang, who was in Nanjing to collect medical supplies, to airlift the available penicillin to Jinan immediately. At the same time, however, the Xuzhou Bandit Suppression Headquarters issued a directive stating that, due to the outbreak of war in Jinan, medical supplies in Xuzhou must be secured. This ironically gave Yin Wenrang an excuse to linger in Nanjing a few days longer. As the two sides bickered over resources, he quietly slipped into the shadows.

Meanwhile, the urgency of the war situation forced the secret military advisor hiding at the Lishi Society Guesthouse to make an appearance. Lan Youyin learned from a driver surnamed Zhao at the Combined Services Headquarters that on the afternoon of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the advisor would be taken to the Army Command Headquarters, followed by a dinner at the Defense Minister’s residence that evening.

"Mid-Autumn Festival—what a coincidence. Let’s take it as an auspicious day," Ren Shaobai remarked, his tone light, as if he weren’t about to embark on an assassination mission.

Thus, the group arrived separately at Black Tortoise Lake Park, blending in like ordinary visitors there to admire the chrysanthemums on Liangzhou Island.

The sudden drop in temperature over the past two days had forced some chrysanthemum varieties, which normally wouldn’t bloom for another ten days or more, to reveal their buds prematurely. Strolling along the causeway, one could see a spectacle usually reserved for the Double Ninth Festival later in the year. Taking advantage of the holiday spirit, even with the knowledge of battles raging hundreds of miles away, Nanjing’s citizens still indulged in flower-viewing and wine-drinking. The park authorities had even borrowed a few painted pleasure boats from the Qinhuai River through the municipal government, allowing visitors to buy tickets for lake cruises with musical performances. As dusk fell, they could admire the moon from the center of the lake.

Strangely, no one found this arrangement inappropriate—or perhaps some did draw historical parallels but chose to feign ignorance, drowning themselves in the collective revelry.

Among the visitors were also several primary and secondary schools on autumn outings. With so many children, the park’s security was already stretched thin, making it even easier for Ren Shaobai’s group to blend in.

A Mang posed as a photographer covering the flower exhibition, carrying camera equipment. When the security personnel inspecting bags asked him to open his backpack, they absentmindedly let him pass after he claimed the rifle scope inside was a new model lens from the German company Zeiss.

Yin Wenrang and Lan Youyin pretended to be students from the Capital Conservatory of Music—one carrying a violin case, the other a saxophone. Since it was common for visitors to play instruments in the park, their appearances raised no suspicion. Little did anyone know that their instrument cases had been modified, concealing silencers, barrels, and firing chambers.

And then there was the large, mounted gun stock.A young police officer recently transferred to assist stood beneath the Xuanwu Gate, yawning repeatedly since noon. His gaze drifted toward a middle-aged man stepping down from a rickshaw, steadying himself on the ground with a metal cane supported by the driver. The officer thought to himself: If you have trouble walking, why come join this chaos? The man limped toward Liang Isle, his back straight despite his uneven gait.

Suddenly, the young officer saw a colleague stop the man. His heart tightened—was this some wanted criminal? But as he moved closer, he watched the man produce a document. His colleague immediately saluted, respectfully returning it before watching the man head toward the eastern causeway.

Soon after, the colleague approached. Curious, the young officer asked about the encounter. "A veteran," the colleague said. "Just returned from the northeast."

The northeast... that's no easy feat. The young officer's lips parted slightly, an involuntary look of reverence crossing his face. But the man had already vanished into the crowd.

Peng Yongcheng maintained his limping gait until he handed his cane to Lan Youyin.

"Did they check you?" Lan Youyin asked, though it was unclear how she'd noticed.

"Yeah," Peng Yongcheng replied. "But no suspicion."

The veteran's certificate, of course, was A Mang's handiwork—a flawless forgery convincing enough to fool an officer who heard he'd returned from Changchun.

Meanwhile, at the naval drill platform, Ren Shaobai, now dressed in park maintenance attire, had placed a "Under Renovation" sign at the second-floor entrance. As Lan Youyin brought the others' supplies to the storage room in the attic, he steadily assembled them. The drill platform lacked firing ports, but the storage room had a window perfectly suited for mounting a rifle. With sunlight streaming in, anyone standing in the shadows would remain invisible to those outside.

Lan Youyin returned to the stairwell to keep watch, ensuring no visitors reached the second floor. The others had already dispersed into the crowd, waiting for the gunshot from the lookout tower.

Ren Shaobai finished assembling the rifle and retrieved two bullets from his cigarette case. He loaded one into the chamber and placed the other on the windowsill—he'd have time for at most one more shot. After mounting the rifle, he peered through the scope toward Emerald Bridge, but something was off immediately.

The men patrolling the bridge today weren’t ordinary plainclothes officers.

At the same time, near the bridge entrance connecting to Liang Isle, Peng Yongcheng also sensed something amiss—the guards had changed. Previously, if unaware visitors tried to cross, officers would discreetly block their path and turn them back. But today, the moment anyone attempted to approach Emerald Isle, several men swarmed to interrogate them, some even making arrests on the spot. Soon, word spread that Emerald Bridge was sealed—no one could approach.

And before turning away, Peng Yongcheng spotted a figure emerging from the opposite end of the bridge—

The same man now in Ren Shaobai’s crosshairs.Why had the Confidentiality Bureau suddenly taken over Okamura Neiji's security detail? The moment Ren Shaobai saw Lu Peng, he instinctively retreated into the shadows, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart for the first time.

At that moment, however, he thought the only problem was having to assassinate his target in front of his so-called "sharpshooter" senior brother.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The logistics department's sedan was already approaching from the direction of Cherry Blossom Isle.

Ren Shaobai took a deep breath, steadied his aim, and waited for his target to come into view.

Okamura Neiji emerged from the guesthouse accompanied by his aide. His personal physician was nowhere to be seen. Wearing a beret and a long overcoat, he walked toward the car parked midway across the bridge. As he passed the new head of security—rumored to be a high-ranking special agent from the Military Intelligence Section—he nodded at Lu Peng in greeting. Okamura was somewhat familiar with the Military Intelligence Section. Though its influence had waned in recent years following the death of its legendary former director, it still boasted many capable individuals.

Okamura paused by the car, waiting for the driver to open the door for him.

One hundred and thirty meters away, on the naval drill platform, Ren Shaobai held his rifle steady, the crosshairs fixed squarely on the face in his scope. He took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. The bullet flew.

The Japanese war criminal, who had repeatedly evaded justice, should have been struck in the head and killed instantly.

Yet, to Ren Shaobai's astonishment, at almost the same moment, Okamura suddenly turned around as if recognizing an old acquaintance, looking toward Lu Peng standing not far behind him.

They had indeed met before. A few years earlier, when the Military Intelligence Section still sent operatives into Japanese-occupied territories, Lu Peng, then still on active duty, had crossed paths with Okamura. Who could have predicted the tables would turn, and the man he once sought to assassinate would now be his charge?

Okamura suddenly remembered where he had seen Lu Peng. He turned back for another look to confirm—and that split-second movement caused the bullet meant for his forehead to graze past his ear instead. The whistle of the bullet's flight was unmistakable to his battle-hardened ears. He immediately dropped to the ground as the bullet struck his aide instead.

A muffled shot, suppressed by a silencer, and the aide collapsed.

In the next instant, chaos erupted on the bridge. The Confidentiality Bureau agents, including Lu Peng, immediately realized what had happened.

Ren Shaobai cursed under his breath, hastily loaded a second round, and took aim again—but it was too late. The panicked second shot hit the bridge's railing, shattering the carved stone, while Okamura, now under Lu Peng's personal protection, took cover behind the car.

The assassination had failed, and Ren Shaobai's mind went blank.

So he didn't notice when Lan Youyin appeared behind him.

Nor could he tell whether he looked disheveled—his thoughts had frozen. According to plan, he should have quickly disassembled the rifle and handed it to Lan Youyin for disposal. But in those dazed seconds, she snatched the rifle from his hands, pulled back the bolt, and ejected the spent cartridge, letting it clatter to the ground.Crack, crack—

Ren Shaobai watched as she loaded something into the gun before snapping the chamber shut. She knelt on one knee, aiming the barrel out the window once more.

Only then did Ren Shaobai snap out of his daze, whipping his head around to look. On Emerald Bridge, Okamura Neiji was nowhere to be seen. Instead, it was Lu Peng who had risen from behind the car.

Lan Youyin took aim at Lu Peng and pulled the trigger.

Ren Shaobai lunged at her, knocking her to the ground. The barrel jerked, and the bullet fired wide.

On Emerald Bridge, Lu Peng stood frozen, watching as another bullet whizzed past, missing his temple by mere centimeters before striking a subordinate in the neck.

Without sparing a glance at the fallen body, Lu Peng spun toward the direction of the shot—southwest, elevated, the naval training platform on Liangzhou Embankment! He raised his hand and barked, "Over there! Get them!"

Special agents from the Confidentiality Bureau surged forward, charging toward Liangzhou.

Lan Youyin shoved Ren Shaobai away, too pressed for time to question why he had stopped her from killing Lu Peng. She tossed the gun into a corner. "Go!" Seeing his hesitation, she grabbed his wrist and hissed, "Is the gun more important than your life? Follow the plan and retreat, now!"

The two raced down the stairs, joining the chaos of panicked tourists outside, startled by the sudden violence on Emerald Bridge. Lan Youyin shook off Ren Shaobai’s grip, about to vanish into the crowd, but he seized her wrist again.

"Did you know in advance that security had been replaced by the Confidentiality Bureau?"

Lan Youyin didn’t answer, but Ren Shaobai had already pieced it together—the real reason she had agreed to and orchestrated this assassination. Her target was never Okamura Neiji. She had used his attempt on the general to rectify her earlier miscalculation in the bombing.

"If we don’t leave now, and your senior brother recognizes you, do you think he’ll miss on purpose?" Lan Youyin met his gaze, then wrenched free again, ducking into the crowd and heading south toward Cherry Isle.

Ren Shaobai saw the Confidentiality Bureau agents struggling to push through the throng, making straight for the naval platform. He turned away, heading toward Xuanwu Gate, where A Mang’s car should be waiting on the nearest stretch of Ring Isle Embankment.

This was their escape plan: Lan Youyin and Yin Wenrang would exit via Cherry Isle, he and A Mang via Ring Isle, and Peng Yongcheng from the farthest Water Chestnut Isle. They had rehearsed a simple drill that morning, but the crowd then had been nothing compared to this. The chaos now hindered not just the agents from Emerald Bridge.

As Ren Shaobai neared the rendezvous point, he spotted A Mang cornered by two policemen inspecting his car.

Ren Shaobai slowed, feigning indifference as he passed, when suddenly someone pressed close behind him and whispered, "It’s me. They probably haven’t heard about the shooting at Water Chestnut Isle yet. There’s a pleasure boat about to depart from the dock. Jump off near Taicheng and enter the city from Jiming Mountain."

Peng Yongcheng slipped a boat ticket into Ren Shaobai’s hand before brushing past him, veering onto a route that wasn’t originally his.

Minutes later, Ren Shaobai boarded the pleasure boat at Water Chestnut Isle dock at the last moment, striding straight toward the stern. The distance had spared this area from news of the shooting, and the boatman raised anchor as usual, carrying a full load of tourists southwest across Black Tortoise Lake.On the boat, there were even songstresses holding pipas and singing. If anyone on the shore had heard them, they would surely sigh and recite the line, "The singing girls know not the grief of a fallen nation, still singing 'Rear Courtyard Flowers' across the river."

But who had hired these songstresses?

As the boat approached the direction of Xuanwu Gate, Ren Shaobai could see from a distance a bustling crowd of tourists packed tightly together. By then, the park entrance at Xuanwu Gate had already been sealed off by the Confidentiality Bureau.

When the journey was halfway through, the young girl holding the pipa walked toward the rear of the cabin. Suddenly, she heard a loud "plop" from outside. Startled, she lifted the cabin curtain to look—only to see ripples spreading across the lake's surface. Just as she was about to take a closer look, the boat manager called her name from behind. Hastily, she dropped the curtain and returned inside.

Meanwhile, a head emerged from the lake's surface. Ren Shaobai, gripping his glasses in hand, swam deftly toward the ancient city wall—his birthplace in the watery landscapes of Zhejiang making him a natural in the water.