Spying

52 Still Waters Run Deep

By late September, administrative officials fleeing from Jinan to the capital began trickling in, bringing news that seemed contradictory but in fact reflected the chaos on the battlefield.

Some said the Communist forces were too formidable, descending like a storm from the heavens. Starting from the commercial district outside the city walls, they advanced relentlessly through the provincial hospital, the German consulate, the post and telecommunications building... Their momentum was unstoppable, and breaching the inner city was only a matter of time. Others claimed the Communist forces had suffered heavy casualties, with corpses piled beneath the city walls. Xu Shiyou’s troops had been severely weakened, and once Nationalist reinforcements and air support arrived from the southern front, the Communists would find themselves in an even more precarious position...

Of course, some directed their fury at Wu Huawen’s defection—rumors had long circulated that one of his wives was a leftist sympathizer, and it was certain he had secretly colluded with the Communist Party, which was why the western defenses of Jinan had fallen without a fight...

When even the Central Daily News could no longer spin the war reports positively, the pressure on the Ministry of National Defense shifted from how to win the war to how to assign blame after defeat.

That day, Li Helin hung up the phone with a grim expression. After a moment of contemplation, he summoned Ren Shaobai and Shen Tong.

“Director Mao from the Confidentiality Bureau just informed me that the mastermind behind the Black Tortoise Lake incident has been captured—a Communist Party member. They also discovered that he had been to Jinan half a month ago, likely as a representative of the Communist East China Field Army to liaise with Wu Huawen.”

Ren Shaobai and Shen Tong didn’t respond immediately, as if each was digesting the implications of this information.

“What was Director Mao’s intention in calling you?” Ren Shaobai asked.

Li Helin replied, “If Jinan falls, this man will serve as a scapegoat—proof that while our pre-war intelligence had gaps, we still managed to dismantle the Communist spy network operating behind our lines.”

“Why does it sound like he’s already expecting Jinan to fall?” Shen Tong asked sharply.

Li Helin didn’t answer but instead looked at Ren Shaobai, who hesitated before saying, “Director Mao might be trying to do you a favor...”

“What kind of favor is this?” Shen Tong widened her eyes. “Wasn’t it us who provided the leads in the first place? Why does he make it sound like the Confidentiality Bureau single-handedly captured the man?”

Li Helin said, “Perhaps I was too eager, making the Confidentiality Bureau think the Second Department is trying to expand its jurisdiction. It backfired.”

“It might also be because of that Director Lu,” Shen Tong muttered. “You extended an olive branch to him, but he probably turned around and reported it to his boss, even using that Communist as leverage against us.”

Li Helin paused. “Is that a criticism of Lu Peng, or of me?”

“Of course not you!” Shen Tong flushed red. “I just think that Lu Peng—”

“Enough,” Li Helin cut her off sternly. “Mind your words.”

Shen Tong fell silent, though her expression remained defiant.

Ren Shaobai was inwardly startled. This wasn’t the first time his colleague had spoken so boldly to Li Helin, making him suspect it wasn’t just the audacity of a privileged young woman with a straightforward personality. But for now, he had no time to dwell on it and instead asked Li Helin, “Does Director Mao intend to hand the Communist over to us? There must be conditions for the exchange, right?”Li Helin nodded. Clearly, he had hit the nail on the head.

When the Ministry of National Defense was first established, the composition of the Second Department had been the noble aspiration of the president, hoping it would form a close, fraternal relationship with the Confidentiality Bureau—mutually supportive yet competitively friendly. But even brothers could have their quarrels. Moreover, both agencies had been infiltrated by Communist spies, breeding mutual distrust and skepticism about each other’s reliability.

“He wants our department to share resources, including intercepted signal intelligence and human intelligence,” Li Helin said.

Two years ago, the Confidentiality Bureau had transferred these two key operations—telecommunications reconnaissance and military espionage—to the Second Department. Now, it seemed they wanted them back.

Shen Tong was stunned. “They want to trade all that for just one Communist? How greedy can they get? Surely you didn’t agree?”

Li Helin remained silent. He thought that even if they refused now, they might ultimately have no choice but to accept the terms.

Because just a few days later, Jinan would change hands.

Such an important city, defended by Wang Yaowu’s 100,000 elite troops, had held out for less than nine days.

The Ministry of National Defense maintained a unified narrative, attributing the defeat primarily to the wavering morale of frontline soldiers—defections, surrenders, white flags hoisted on tanks. From generals to foot soldiers, none had the Communist army’s bloody determination to hold the city walls at all costs.

At this point, Peng Yongcheng, now in the hands of the Confidentiality Bureau, became the perfect scapegoat—proof that the failure wasn’t due to flawed battle intelligence or planning from the Ministry of National Defense, but rather Communist subterfuge in the rear, with Wu Huawen’s lack of resolve negatively influencing other defenders. And now, the Second Department’s redemption lay in capturing the Communist spy sent by Zhou Enlai to liaise with Wu Huawen—an operative codenamed “Silkworm Keeper.”

At the same time, the Second Department didn’t let the Third Department blame them for inaccurate intelligence as they had in the past. Instead, they turned the tables: What good was precise intelligence if it wasn’t used properly? Like when the Third Department had dismissed the Communist battle plans they’d risked their lives to obtain, only for the intelligence officers’ hard work to be casually brushed aside by the experts.

And who suffered the most in all this?

Many in the Ministry of National Defense already knew that Ren Shaobai, the Second Department’s confidential secretary, had recently ventured alone into the Communist area, narrowly escaping death to retrieve critical intelligence. Yet now, with Jinan lost, he was treated like an unappreciated outsider—all his efforts wasted.

Of course, this narrative had been carefully spread by Ren Shaobai through Wei Ningsheng, who was notorious for gathering and disseminating internal “gossip.” Combined with Ren Shaobai’s well-earned reputation, it gave him the upper hand in the court of public opinion.

Shen Tong had volunteered to handle the handover of the “Silkworm Keeper” to the Confidentiality Bureau. Watching as the middle-aged man, hands cuffed and unsteady on his feet, was escorted out, she felt a strange sensation: Could this unremarkable-looking man really have been the deciding factor in a major battle? Was the Ministry of National Defense fooling itself by pinning the blame for Jinan’s fall on him? And—"He already confessed to everything, didn't he? Why are you still torturing him?" Shen Tong blurted out, but immediately realized her mistake—when had the Confidentiality Bureau ever interrogated prisoners without drawing blood?

Lu Peng glanced at her but seemed understanding. "Director Li really shouldn't have assigned a young woman like you to this kind of work."

Shen Tong paused, unsure whether he meant handling Communist prisoners specifically or more broadly working in the brutal intelligence apparatus. She didn't pursue it, instead asking, "What about the other suspects?"

"Those who should be released naturally have been. No need to worry, Miss Shen."

Peng Yongcheng was shoved into the car. Shen Tong approached, unlocked one of his handcuffs, and refastened it to the passenger seat's headrest.

Throughout the ride, she continued studying the bowed head of the man through the rearview mirror. After a while, as if sensing her gaze, he slightly raised his eyelids. When their eyes met, he seemed equally startled to see such a young woman.

Suddenly, Shen Tong felt the enthusiasm she'd had just days ago—about independently capturing a Communist spy—evaporate completely.

After delivering the Silkworm Keeper to Tiger Bridge Prison per Li Helin's instructions, Shen Tong ran into Wei Ningsheng from the Fourth Department. Wei said he'd come out of curiosity to see the Communist who'd caused such an uproar.

"Curious about what?" Shen Tong asked.

"I've never seen a Communist before," Wei Ningsheng frowned. "He looks no different from ordinary people."

Shen Tong was taken aback—they'd had the same thought.

Wei continued, "An acquaintance of mine was arrested by the Confidentiality Bureau too, simply because he happened to work at that bank."

"Oh. Is he alright?"

"They released him yesterday, but not without leaving some marks." Wei paused before adding, "Clearly, the Bureau doesn't go easy just because someone's merely 'suspected.'"

Shen Tong felt her eyelid twitch violently. She wondered how A Mang was faring.

She went to the First Department looking for Lan Youyin, only to learn that the ever-punctual Lan had taken the day off.

Then Lu Peng's words echoed in her ears again: Those who should be released naturally have been.

Belatedly, Shen Tong realized: What did that mean? Were there those who shouldn't be released?

A terrible premonition struck her. She rushed to the communications center and learned that, per the Bureau's shared conditions, all recorded surveillance logs from recent months had been taken away days earlier. Her heart sank—she knew those records contained proof of A Mang calling Lan Youyin from the photo studio.

Truthfully, after capturing Peng Yongcheng, detaining other suspects like A Mang had become pointless. But before signing the release orders, Lu Peng had inexplicably pulled out Peng's photograph again. As he studied it, a new question occurred to him: From what position had this photograph been taken?He drove around the vicinity of Xinhua Street's Industrial Bank and soon made a startling discovery. When he stood at a certain spot across the street, the angle of the Zhejiang Industrial Bank in his line of sight perfectly matched that in the photograph he held. Turning around, he saw a shop with its doors tightly shut behind him, an ebony signboard nailed beside it reading "Hibiscus Photography Studio"—wasn't this Lu A'mang's studio?

Lu Peng personally took the photograph to interrogate A Mang again while instructing his subordinates to gather all available information on the man. Soon, they discovered that before moving to Xinhua Street, A Mang's studio had been located on Pingshi Street for a long time. Thanks to the resource-sharing agreement Director Mao had negotiated, they also retrieved records from the Second Department's Communications Center of every phone call ever made from that location.

Following each number, Lan Youyin's name soon appeared before Lu Peng.

He had long memorized the address of Lan Youyin's home in Peach Blossom Village. The first time he went there, he took Qiao Mingyu away; the second time, he brought the Silkworm Keeper's cipher for Lan Youyin to decode. Now, for the third time, he chose early morning to intercept Lan Youyin unexpectedly on her way to work.

A flicker of tension flashed in Lan Youyin's eyes as Lu Peng opened the car door and said, "Section Chief Lan, I’ll need half a day of your time."

Lan Youyin paused, her gaze sweeping over the Confidentiality Bureau special agents already deployed along the street. With no way out, she had no choice but to get into the car.

"Director Lu, would you mind requesting leave on my behalf from our department?"

"Naturally, Section Chief Lan needn’t worry."

Thus, they arrived at the office of the Operations Division chief in the Confidentiality Bureau building.

Lan Youyin relaxed slightly—since she wasn’t being taken directly to an interrogation room, this likely wasn’t the worst-case scenario she had imagined.

"What kind of tea would Section Chief Lan prefer?" Lu Peng asked as she sat down opposite his desk. He walked over to a cabinet against the wall—where others might display military medals, he had instead filled it entirely with tea sets.

"No need, I don’t have the habit. Please go ahead, Director Lu."

"Is that so? Then I’ll proceed on my own." True to his word, Lu Peng turned his back to Lan Youyin and began leisurely boiling water and brewing tea. "I recall Chief Qiao isn’t much of a tea drinker either. Then again, people these days prefer cafés—I must be outdated."

Lan Youyin remained silent. For a moment, the only sounds in the office were the water bubbling as it boiled, the splash as it was poured into a teacup to warm it before being discarded, and the soft hiss as it was finally poured over the tea leaves.

"Is this Section Chief Lan’s second visit to the Confidentiality Bureau?" Lu Peng suddenly asked.

"Why ask when you already know?" By now, Lan Youyin had steadied herself and spoke in her usual composed tone. "Director Lu, this time it’s you who sought me out, not the other way around. If there’s something, you might as well say it directly."

Lu Peng chuckled, turned around, and carried two cups of tea back to his desk, sliding one toward Lan Youyin.

"Basic hospitality is still necessary." He circled behind the desk, sat down comfortably, took a sip of tea, then bent down to pull an envelope from one of the lower drawers. From it, he tipped out a photograph. "Section Chief Lan, do you recognize this photo?"

It was the very photograph he had received—the one secretly taken of Peng Yongcheng outside the Industrial Bank.

Lan Youyin nodded. "Yes, I took it."Lu Peng hadn't expected her to admit it so readily and was momentarily taken aback.

"There's a photo studio opposite Xingye Bank. The owner is an acquaintance of mine. Once when I visited, he introduced me to a new camera model, and I casually took a few shots outside. This is one of them."

"...A casually taken photo, yet Section Chief Lan remembers it?"

"Because I developed and looked at it. The street view from this angle was quite nice, so I took two copies. Oh, and I kept the negatives too." Lan Youyin paused before countering, "But how does Director Lu have this photo?"

Lu Peng's brow furrowed briefly. Instead of answering, he pressed on: "You took this at the photo studio, yet the owner claims no recollection of it."

"He runs a photo studio handling countless photos daily—how could he recognize every single one? What's the matter, Director Lu? Is there an issue with this photo?"

Lu Peng stared into Lan Youyin's eyes, pointing at Peng Yongcheng in the photo: "This man is the Communist who turned Wu Huawen, and he's connected to the recent shooting at Black Tortoise Lake."

"Is that so?"

"Section Chief Lan doesn't seem surprised."

"Since it's reached Director Lu's desk, it's obviously nothing good. The most bizarre possibilities become likely."

Lu Peng met with a firm yet subtle rebuff. Sipping his tea, he remarked, "Section Chief Lan, you never fail to astonish me with each meeting."

"What does Director Lu mean by that?"

"Last time here, the materials Section Chief Lan provided about Qiao Mingyu were immensely helpful. This time, I'd assumed you'd also sent this photo."

Lan Youyin's expression darkened instantly. "Director Lu, surely the Confidentiality Bureau won't have me tailed for weeks again just because I accidentally photographed a Communist? And from what I gather, the photo studio's owner Lu is also detained? What kind of bandit logic is this? If everyone remotely connected to Communists is to be eliminated, then forgive my bluntness—President Chiang has appeared in the same photo as Mao Zedong before!"

Fifteen minutes later, Lu Peng stood by his office window watching Lan Youyin and Lu A'mang exit No.1 Honggongci. Soon, a technician knocked and entered. "Director, did you collect any fingerprints?"

Lu Peng turned to glance at the teacup and photo on his desk, shaking his head. "Extremely cautious—didn't touch a single thing."

However—

The technician exclaimed, "What? That's far too deliberate."

Lu Peng's gaze returned to the window where the two figures had already vanished around the street corner.

Indeed—the more careful one is, the more suspicious it becomes. This Lan Youyin—he would investigate her thoroughly.