Spying

55 The Domino Effect

The autumn moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery frost over everything below. Yet the frost carried no chill—instead, it softened the sharp edges of human demeanor.

The moment Ren Shaobai saw the fully assembled transmitter, he finally pieced together Peng Yongcheng’s ultimate plan. His gaze at Lan Youyin was complex, but the question he voiced was simple: "Each to their own, no interference—wasn’t that what you said?"

The words left his lips, and he immediately regretted them. Why did they sound so petulant?

Lan Youyin replied, "It was a dying man’s request. Consider it my good deed for the day."

Ren Shaobai was silenced. Though he wasn’t exactly a standout figure at the Ministry of Defense, he had always prided himself on his sharp tongue. Yet somehow, every time he faced Lan Youyin, he ended up at a loss for words.

Fortunately, this time, Lan Youyin didn’t press her advantage. Instead, she suddenly looked him up and down and asked, "What were you doing tonight?"

Ren Shaobai narrowed his eyes, wary. "Nothing much. Why do you ask?"

"If it was nothing, why are you back so late?"

"What, did you wait long for me?"

—And just like that, the atmosphere shifted.

"I came here carrying this thing. If I’d been tailed or stopped along the way, no amount of talking would’ve cleared my name. Weren’t you Communists supposed to avoid dragging innocents into this?" Lan Youyin prodded deliberately.

Ren Shaobai shot back, "Are you innocent?"

Lan Youyin said nothing.

They fell into a silent standoff. Under the rooftop light, each found the other’s eyes unusually bright, their pupils like polished pearls faintly reflecting the contours of their own faces.

Then, unexpectedly, Ren Shaobai’s lips curved into a soundless smile. He removed his glasses, rubbing the indentations they left on the bridge of his nose. When he looked at Lan Youyin again, his gaze was slightly unfocused—not from exhaustion, but from relaxation.

"Lan Youyin, you’re not a bad person. So why do you always think you are?" he said.

That was an unexpected question—or perhaps a conclusion, Lan Youyin thought. She also noted how, just days ago, Ren Shaobai had seemed like a broken, pitiable wreck, yet now he was entirely different.

"I don’t define myself the way you say I do. I’m just not like you," she replied, her expression as calm as the moon outside.

Ren Shaobai nodded, as if weighing whether he could accept her answer. After a few seconds, he pushed his glasses back up and said earnestly, "Stances matter, but I won’t ask why you’ve decided to get involved with a Communist spy like me again."

Under his clear gaze, Lan Youyin’s exasperation was unmistakable. Just as he assumed she wouldn’t say anything more, she spoke again.

"You once asked me who that modified rifle was originally meant for."

Ren Shaobai froze. He hadn’t anticipated her sudden candor.

"Originally, we were waiting for New Year’s Day, when Nationalist officials would pay their respects at Sun Yat-sen’s Mausoleum. People we could never normally reach would all be gathered in one place—that would’ve been the perfect opportunity for an assassination."

"Who were you targeting?"

"Liu Zhi."

Commander-in-Chief of the Xuzhou "Bandit Suppression" Headquarters, Liu Zhi.It was a name completely unexpected, and one that was utterly audacious. Ren Shaobai stared at Lan Youyin in shock, taking a long moment to process before finally reacting, "So Yin Wenrang went to the Xuzhou Pacification Headquarters for this reason too?"

"If the assassination fails and he's only injured but not fatally, he'll be in the medical unit. Though not a clinical doctor, there are always ways to get close—an extra layer of insurance."

Watching Lan Youyin speak these words without batting an eye, Ren Shaobai was left dumbfounded. He had considered various possibilities, but to assassinate a Pacification Commander always surrounded by layers of protection with just one—or at most "three"—people was a far greater challenge than sneaking around as a secret "military advisor."

"...Why?" he asked.

"The 1941 Chongqing Tunnel Tragedy—he was the Garrison Commander at the time," Lan Youyin replied.

Ren Shaobai knew of the incident. Over nine hundred Chongqing citizens had died, not from air raids, but in the so-called "shelters" provided by their own government. Public outrage, of course, had demanded accountability for the one who issued the fatal order. Yet despite promises of a public trial, it had all been a farce in the end—not a single hair on his head had been touched.

Just like Okamura Neiji, who, after the recent uproar, had been sent back to his prison in Shanghai, supposedly to await a second trial. But who knew what excuses would arise then, or who would make a call to whom, ensuring another acquittal?

In this light, the Nationalist government hadn’t changed at all over the years. Ren Shaobai thought bitterly, then a sudden realization struck him. He turned to Lan Youyin. "This is what you meant by seven years."

The lingering question in his heart now had an answer, and everything fell into place. Why an ordinary person would pick up a gun, why they would forsake the open road in broad daylight to crawl through dark sewers, why Nora had turned into Medea...

Seven years ago, someone had died in that tragedy, and those in power who should have been held accountable had escaped punishment. Lan Youyin had drowned her pain in alcohol, and from that pain, hatred had grown. Seven years later, she had prepared everything to begin her revenge. Ren Shaobai gazed at her in astonishment, but—

"You're out of bullets."

Those special bullets—the kind that exploded inside the body to compensate for poor marksmanship—had been stolen from the Fifth Army’s military supplies. Since they weren’t domestically produced, they were scarce to begin with, with only five in a box. To use them, Lan Youyin had chosen two types of pistols and a rifle, all compatible with the ammunition, indicating that in her plan, the original five bullets would have been enough to see her revenge through. But now, only the first had gone as planned, killing Security Bureau Director Yang Kaizhi. The second, he had forcibly taken to Shandong, using it on Heishui’s face, leaving him unrecognizable outside Weixian County. The remaining three had been wasted on Emerald Bridge at Black Tortoise Lake.

Though, if not for his own reflexive action at the time, perhaps even the last one wouldn’t have been wasted...

"I'll help you," Ren Shaobai spoke up. "About holding Liu Zhi accountable for escaping justice back then. I might be able to assist."

"How?" Lan Youyin asked.

Ren Shaobai took a deep breath, then revealed the next task Peng Yongcheng had assigned him in the letter."...If it ultimately leads to that outcome, then wouldn't Liu Zhi's fate be essentially what you wanted? Of course, the best scenario would be for him to face trial again in an environment where his privileges no longer protect him. I imagine that's what you'd prefer to see. And if I live to that day, I'll do everything in my power to ensure his actions aren't forgotten. Not that my words carry much weight, but I believe many others will also recognize the justice you seek."

Lan Youyin stared at him blankly, not because of his lofty words about justice, nor even because she was stunned that he had already contemplated his own mortality, but because of the mission he had mentioned.

"You mean..." Lan Youyin struggled to organize her thoughts, "Next month, you're going to make the Ministry of Defense and the Xuzhou Bandit Suppression Headquarters believe a piece of false intelligence about the Communist East China Field Army advancing into northern Jiangsu. This will expand the scale of the campaign Su Yu envisioned for attacking Huaiyin, Haizhou, and Lianyungang, directly linking the battlefields east and west of Xuzhou."

"Correct. It's called the Huaihai Campaign."

"Just you? You're only the acting department head's confidential secretary. How could you possibly pull that off?"

"Do you know about Dominoes? The Italians call them dominoes too," Ren Shaobai said calmly. "A series of uniformly sized rectangular tiles are stood upright in a row with small gaps between them. Push the first one, and it knocks over the next, with each subsequent fall caused by the one before it. Right now, the dominoes that I, the Silkworm Keeper, and many other comrades on the rear battlefield have been planning are almost all in place. After that, I just need to be the one to tip over the first domino. Once they start falling, the frontlines will ultimately be affected—and the impact will be devastating, beyond what you can imagine right now."

As his words trailed off, Ren Shaobai suddenly felt a little embarrassed. But Lan Youyin was gazing at him intently, her eyes devoid of the mockery he was so familiar with.

This was why he had managed to pull himself out of his despair. He had a more important mission now. If it succeeded, would that just, privilege-free society he spoke of—where history wouldn't be forgotten—arrive one step sooner?

Lan Youyin felt she had finally glimpsed the "faith" he and they pursued. It turned out it had never been something abstract.

"Alright, if that's the case... what can I do?" Lan Youyin asked.

Ren Shaobai was startled, then instantly overjoyed. He pulled out the recording tape he had stolen earlier that evening: "This is a radio signal intercepted by the communications substation. Some of it includes telegrams the Second Department sent to field agents. I couldn't decode them right away—but it shouldn't be too difficult! Since the recipients couldn't possibly carry different codebooks with them, I think they must have modified the original code. And I know the original cipher, so I thought I might be able to crack it myself if I spent some time. But since you're here..." He pulled over a chair, his gesture almost reverent. "Wait a moment, I'll go upstairs to get the recorder—"

Lan Youyin narrowed her eyes. "It's hard not to suspect this was all premeditated."

"Ah, let's not dwell on such trivial details..."The concept of the Xuzhou-Bengbu Campaign was first proposed within the Nationalist Party during a briefing at the Ministry of National Defense's official residence. The President, who had just returned from directing the Northeast Theater at Huludao, had already decided to abandon Zhengzhou and Kaifeng, withdrawing all forces east to Bengbu to defend Xuzhou. However, two days later, the President's thinking evolved further: the Nationalist forces would completely withdraw from Xuzhou to the southern bank of the Huai River, establishing a defensive system along the river, waiting for the Communist forces' offensive to falter before seeking an opportunity to strike.

Such a deployment naturally sparked controversy within the Ministry of National Defense. Senior staff emerging from the Retreat Residence wore grave expressions. Ren Shaobai, following Li Helin, overheard the head of the Fourth Department remark, "Is the old man superstitious, afraid of repeating Xiang Yu's fate—surrounded on all sides and trapped at Gaixia?"

The Western Chu, which Liu Bang had destroyed, had its capital at Pengcheng, the ancient name for Xuzhou.

The head of the Third Department waved his hand helplessly. "With Zhengzhou and Kaifeng lost, Xuzhou is easy to attack but hard to defend, and our rear lines are stretched thin. These are real concerns."

"Replenishing troops, supplies, and ammunition is indeed a problem, but I fear opinions in Xuzhou won't be unified," said the Fourth Department head.

"I doubt even Chief of General Staff Gu can persuade them. Though the Xuzhou Bandit Suppression Headquarters's military strength might handle Su Yu's forces, if Liu Bocheng's troops join in, it's hard to say," the First Department head chimed in.

"Aren't there still the elite forces from the Central China Bandit Suppression Headquarters?"

"Hah, do you think the old man can still command the Guangxi clique? Don't forget Vice President Li Zongren—once 'Little Zhuge' Bai Chongxi steps down as Minister of National Defense, if he seizes this chance for revenge, I wouldn't be surprised..."

Since gaining access to the Retreat Residence, Ren Shaobai had witnessed firsthand how these senior Ministry of National Defense staff, when divided in opinion, feigned compliance while pursuing their own agendas. Each harbored personal calculations but dared not openly clash with the often-confused commander-in-chief. The result was sluggish, ambiguous strategic planning, leaving frontline commanders to fight battles with outcomes left to fate.

But Ren Shaobai didn't believe in idealism. Silently, he calculated the future troop deployments and military strength in the Huaihai battlefield. At that moment, no one could be certain that the Communist PLA, driven by their firm resolve to liberate areas north of the Yangtze, could break through the encirclement of the Nationalist's Central China and Xuzhou Bandit Suppression Headquarters.

The reason both sides saw this as the decisive moment was precisely because variables could arise at any time—there was no guaranteed victory.

Ren Shaobai wasn't the head of the First Department who could formulate battle plans, nor was he a frontline commander who could lead a unit in revolt. But sometimes, it wasn't about the so-called "a thousand-mile dike collapsing due to an ant hole"—rather, beneath that seemingly impregnable dike, traps had long been meticulously laid.

Li Helin, who had stayed out of his colleagues' discussions, returned to the Second Department. The communications center delivered news: all regional spies had responded, and the new codes were in use. The acting head of the Second Department's expression finally eased slightly. Now, they could accurately track the Communist forces' movements in the Huaihai region.