Spying

09 Escape

Outside the stone-gated alley of Peach Blossom Village, the Confidentiality Bureau’s Second Division tail sat in a black car, his rabbit-like eyes staring out as another overcast dawn arrived without a glimpse of the sun.

His replacement partner brought him fried dough and soy milk for breakfast. As he wolfed it down, he couldn’t help but grumble, “We’ve been watching for so long—if there was anything suspicious, it would’ve shown by now. This feels like a waste of effort.”

“Standard procedure. Just hang in there,” his more experienced partner replied. “For a Class C suspect, we tail for another half-month. If nothing turns up, we drop it. Any movement last night?”

“None. No outings, no visitors. And honestly, I don’t think she’s a Communist at all.”

“You think Communists have it stamped on their foreheads?”

“No, but we’ve caught enough of them to have a sense. This time, I just don’t feel it. The director’s got the wrong person.”

“Listen to you, questioning the director now?”

“Even if she is one, she’s a turncoat. Maybe she’s the one who sold out Qiao Mingyu.”

“You’ve argued both sides in two sentences.”

“Well? A woman who can live so carefree after her husband’s death…”

Before he could finish, the subject of their discussion emerged from the alley. Despite his earlier reluctance, the tail immediately straightened up. “She’s never out this early on Sundays.”

His partner nudged his shoulder. “Let’s see if your instincts are right—today might be the day.”

Lan Youyin spotted the tail following her as she checked for traffic while crossing the street. Sleep-deprived and irritable, she kept her pace steady, walking unhurriedly to the bus stop. When the bus arrived, she boarded like any other passenger, bought her ticket from the conductor, and headed straight to the back row. Her gaze flickered over the tail, who stood near the front, pretending to offer his seat to others.

She got off at Shanxi Road, a major stop with a crowded platform. As rain began to fall again, umbrellas popped open overhead, blocking the tail’s line of sight. When another bus pulled in, she deliberately let the bustling crowd push ahead. Just before the doors closed, she suddenly flashed her Defense Ministry officer’s ID, clearing a path to jump aboard as the bus started moving.

Through the window, her indifferent eyes swept over the tail, still trapped behind the crowd on the platform.

The tail watched helplessly as Lan Youyin slipped away, alarm bells ringing in his head. He hurried to the intersection, where his partner’s black car splashed through the perpetually waterlogged streets before stopping in front of him.

“She got on that bus ahead. Something’s definitely up today.”The two men followed the bus closely, not daring to slack off again. At the same time, fearing that Lan Youyin might have already made contact with her Communist Party accomplices, they grabbed the camera from the back seat and photographed every passenger boarding or alighting at each subsequent stop. After a few more stops, Lan Youyin reappeared. This time, she didn’t transfer to another bus but stood on the platform for a moment before crossing the street and getting into a parked jeep.

The two pursuers exchanged glances, and the more experienced one immediately made a decision. He got out of the car and hurried to a nearby public phone booth, calling the Confidentiality Bureau to report their current location before returning to the vehicle.

“What’s the plan?”

“Hold position. The director is sending backup.”

Outside, the rain grew heavier.

They kept their eyes fixed on the jeep while checking the pistols at their waists, ready to load them at any moment. Neither spoke, and the car was so quiet they could hear each other’s breathing.

Before long, the jeep’s front door opened first. The driver stepped out with an umbrella and opened the rear door for a man whose face remained obscured. Under the shelter of the umbrella, the man walked around to the other side of the jeep, and only then did Lan Youyin step out.

The two stood under their respective umbrellas, as if bidding farewell.

If this was a Communist Party rendezvous, they couldn’t let the contact escape. But the backup from the bureau hadn’t arrived yet.

The tracker who had already lost Lan Youyin once before immediately opened the car door, ignoring his partner’s protests, and crossed the street in the rain. His companion cursed inwardly but hesitated only briefly before following.

The man who had the driver hold the umbrella for him hadn’t yet returned to the jeep.

“Police.” The tracker bluffed, disregarding the fact that they were outnumbered, addressing all three—including Lan Youyin. “Identity check. Show your papers.”

It was the most plausible delaying tactic. Even outside of martial law, citizens were obligated to cooperate with random checks to prove they weren’t suspicious individuals.

His colleague caught up, positioning himself to block Lan Youyin’s path, but before she could react, the man on the other side of the jeep spoke.

“We’ll comply, but Officer, you’ll need to show your credentials first.”

The tracker looked up and met the eyes beneath the umbrella, instinctively taking a step back.

“Confidentiality Bureau, right?” The man’s voice was as indifferent as his gaze, laced with disdain. “Since when did your Director Mao and Police Commissioner Tang become so chummy? Or is it just one big happy family now?”

Two thoughts immediately flashed through the tracker’s mind: either they had caught a big fish, or they were in deep trouble.

It turned out to be the latter.

Lu Peng arrived with reinforcements, convinced along the way that they had finally caught Lan Youyin in suspicious activity—why else would she leave home unusually early on a rest day, switch buses twice, and meet someone in a suspicious vehicle? But when he reached the scene, he realized his men had stopped a car belonging to the Army General Headquarters.

The Confidentiality Bureau director’s vision darkened instantly. Even if the man in the jeep held a lower rank, these frontline soldiers had always looked down on intelligence officers like him—men who earned their stripes catching traitors rather than fighting on the battlefield.Of course, the term the other party used was "special agent."

Lu Peng had no choice but to lower his head for the moment and muddle through this encounter. To show that he genuinely didn’t know either, he drew his gun and was about to execute the two subordinates who had been tailing them. The other party coldly stopped him again, implying such superficial gestures were unnecessary.

Lu Peng wore an apologetic expression and glanced at Lan Youyin, who stood nearby with her arms crossed, looking completely unbothered. "It’s my failure in disciplining my subordinates, disturbing Major Hu and Section Chief Lan’s... rendezvous."

Hearing his phrasing, neither of them even bothered to deny it.

Back at the Confidentiality Bureau, Lu Peng pointed at his subordinates and berated them: "You don’t even recognize General Lu’s license plate? What are you still doing here? Might as well go home and farm!"

He was also cursing himself inwardly for being so addled by Communist spies lately—how could he have believed the Communist Party would choose a location so close to the Ministry of National Defense and the military headquarters for secret meetings? He had been too eager for quick success, forcing evidence to fit his conclusions. Even knowing Lan Youyin couldn’t have been present during the radio incident, he had stubbornly assumed she might be in cahoots with the culprit, especially after Li Helin pointed out the peculiarities of the cipher, which immediately made him think of Lan Youyin’s experience in codebreaking at the Sino-American Institute.

But now it occurred to him that those who create ciphers and those who break them are often two entirely different groups—like how one can hardly wield both a shield and a sword to fight oneself.

At this thought, Lu Peng suddenly slapped his thigh (startling his already nervous subordinate again). Why not just ask Lan Youyin to crack the code the Confidentiality Bureau had been struggling with? If she could actually decipher the Communists’ cipher, he could finally lay to rest all the suspicions that had plagued him these past days.

That afternoon, he arrived with fruit and tea, accompanied by a female subordinate—Lan Youyin might have ridden alone in a major general’s car, but Lu Peng prided himself on his high moral standards and would never visit the home of a recently widowed woman unaccompanied—ostensibly to apologize.

The former codebreaker from the Sino-American Institute was still wearing the same clothes from her outing that morning and showed no expression when she saw Lu Peng. Once inside, Lu Peng subtly surveyed the room he had already searched days earlier—the slashed sofa and wallpaper had been replaced, and the liquor cabinet that once held wedding photos now displayed a few bottles of modestly priced foreign liquor. He gave a meaningful glance, and his quick-witted young subordinate asked to use the bathroom, actually seizing the chance to inspect the inner rooms for anything suspicious.

Lan Youyin saw right through it. "Director Lu," she said, "I’ve already written my confession, my husband is gone—how much longer does the Confidentiality Bureau plan to investigate me? Even Hong Chengchou had his days of comfort while he was alive."

"Now that’s too harsh—Section Chief Lan has rendered meritorious service for the Party and the nation," Lu Peng flattered insincerely before offering an equally insincere apology for the morning’s incident. After circling the point, he finally slid a document across the table to Lan Youyin, bearing the intercepted cipher from days prior.

"I’ve heard Section Chief Lan was once the ace of the Sino-American Institute’s decryption team. Would you do me this favor?"

Lan Youyin skimmed the rows of numbers on the page, her expression still unreadable. "The head of the decryption team is now at the Second Department of the Ministry of National Defense. Why not ask him, Director Lu? Or is this my final test?""It's not a test, but a sincere request for advice. The main work of the Second Department isn't on the home front, and we don't want to trouble them unnecessarily. Of course, that doesn't mean we should trouble Director Lan either, but given your past achievements, you might crack it quickly."

"Not likely. I've never worked with Communist codes before. And I've heard they always have a base text—if you can't guess that, there's no cracking it at all. Have you tried the President's books?"

"We have. Bandit Suppression Manual and last year's China's Destiny—neither worked. The codebreakers at the bureau say there might be some mathematical pattern, but they haven't found it yet. That's why we wanted your help."

Lan Youyin lowered her head and looked again at the test problem Lu Peng had brought.

"I can give it a try. Whether I decode it or not, I'll let Director Lu know tomorrow. But if I succeed, consider it my passing the Confidentiality Bureau's test, and please don't send those two from this morning again."

Lu Peng quickly explained that he'd already dismissed those two men. Just then, he noticed his female subordinate emerging from the inner room and standing behind Lan Youyin, shaking her head at him. He stood up and said, "We've taken up enough of Director Lan's rest time. We shouldn't disturb you further—we'll take our leave now."

Listening as their footsteps faded away, Lan Youyin didn't immediately return to the cipher. Instead, she retrieved a paper bag bearing the name of a private hospital from between the sofa cushions and went into the bedroom. Days of being tailed had left the pill bottle on her nightstand empty for some time. This morning, she'd finally managed half a day's respite by meeting with Chief Lu's confidential aide, only to return home and find Lu Peng knocking at her door with his entourage.

Through the window, she watched the two figures retreating, deep in conversation. What were they saying?

No doubt the woman was telling him that Lan Youyin must have a guilty conscience—why else would she have sleeping pills by her bed?