Chapter 166: The Net‑Closing Moment

The evidence he kept in his pocket made Li Ping'an feel hot and uneasy; the gold bars, Radio Station, katana in Zheng Zeming's secret room, and that crucial Code Book flickered through his mind like a revolving lantern.

He knew that, as merely the Security Section chief of a Steel Rolling Mill, he could not move Zheng Zeming, that deeply rooted tree; the matter had to be taken higher, and he had to find the right person at the right time.

He locked himself in his office, staying up the whole night facing the Code Book and the photos taken in the secret room; at dawn he dipped his fountain pen in ink and wrote the final line on a sheet of paper: The above circumstances are true, both testimonial and physical evidence are present, I earnestly request the organization to conduct a thorough investigation.

After writing the last character, he let out a long sigh. He drafted the denunciation letter with extra caution, both exposing Zheng Zeming's spy identity and hidden incriminating evidence, while cleverly omitting the details of his own nighttime infiltration, stating only that an informant supplied the tip.

Wang Dahu, call your trusted aide; this letter, you deliver personally to Secretary Chen's office in the municipal party committee. Remember, it must reach his own hands, and say it is Li Ping'an reporting a matter of ten thousand urgent urgency.

Wang Dahu saw his solemn expression, dared not ask further, took the letter, tucked it close to his body, and nodded heavily: Section Chief, rest assured!

After the letter was sent, time seemed unusually long. Li Ping'an paced anxiously, alternately worrying that the letter might not reach Secretary Chen and that Zheng Zeming might become aware. On the surface he still had to act as if nothing was amiss, handling the Security Section's routine affairs and attending the plant's production meeting as usual.

Section Chief Li Ping'an, your complexion hasn't been good lately? At the meeting, the newly arrived Deputy Section Chief of the Propaganda Section smiled and asked, "Is cracking the big case wearing you out?"

Li Ping'an felt a tightening in his heart, but smiled and waved his hand: Not at all, it's all within my duties. He warned himself silently that Zheng Zeming had operated in the Cultural Bureau for years, and there was no guarantee the Steel Rolling Mill had no informants.

Just as he was about to lose patience, on the third afternoon, an unfamiliar telephone rang the Security Section.

Is this comrade Li Ping'an? The voice on the other end was steady and forceful: Secretary Chen wants to see you, come over right now.

Li Ping'an's heart leapt to his throat. He hung up, took several deep breaths, gave Wang Dahu a few instructions, then mounted his bicycle and sped toward the municipal party committee courtyard.

Secretary Chen's office was spacious and bright, a huge map hanging on the wall. The over‑fifty‑year‑old Chen, wearing reading glasses, was bent over Li Ping'an's denunciation letter and several photos spread on the desk. Hearing footsteps, he looked up, his gaze sharp as an eagle.

Comrade Li Ping'an? Sit. Secretary Chen gestured to the chair opposite, his tone neutral, asking, "Are you confident about what you wrote in the letter?"

Li Ping'an sat up straight: Secretary Chen, I have solid evidence. Zheng Zeming is not only a covert spy chief, but also hides a massive stash of gold, counterfeit money, military Radio Station weapons, and even worships a Japanese puppet regime flag in a secret room at home. Here are some of the photographic evidences, along with the Code Book he used.

As he spoke, he reached into his bag (actually retrieving it from a pocket dimension) and produced the deep‑blue cloth‑bound Code Book and several clear photos of the secret room's interior, gently placing them on the desk.

Secretary Chen picked up the photos, examining them one by one. When he saw the picture of Zheng Zeming in a Japanese puppet uniform and the katana displayed in the secret room, his complexion darkened completely, and his fingers turned slightly white from gripping.

Secretary Chen slammed the table hard, causing the tea cup lids to jump, exclaiming, "How outrageous! This is sheer audacity!"

He stood up, pacing back and forth in the office, his chest heaving. After a long while he stopped, his eyes blazing as he stared at Li Ping'an: Comrade Li Ping'an, you have achieved a great merit! This matter is extremely heinous and must be dealt with immediately! The evidence you brought is crucial, but to avoid alerting the culprits we need to devise a meticulous capture plan.

That night, a secret meeting was held in a small conference room of the Municipal Public Security Bureau. Apart from Secretary Chen and the Public Security Bureau chief, only Li Ping'an and a few absolutely reliable core police officers attended. A topographic map of Zheng Zeming's residential area hung on the wall.

Based on the intelligence provided by Comrade Li Ping'an, Zheng Zeming's home harbors weapons and is extremely dangerous. The Public Security Bureau chief pointed at the map, saying we must execute the arrest while he is completely unguarded. Tomorrow at nine a. m., he will chair a city‑wide literary and art work symposium at the Cultural Bureau, which is the optimal moment.

Secretary Chen added: The operation must be swift and precise! At the same time, according to the list, we must simultaneously arrest all other implicated persons, leaving none to escape! Comrade Li Ping'an, you are familiar with the situation, cooperate with the task force to carry out the mission.

Li Ping'an rose to attention, his heart surging.

At 8:50 a. m. the next morning, the Cultural Bureau's grand conference room was already filled with literary and art workers from various units. Zheng Zeming, dressed in a crisp Zhongshan suit, hair meticulously combed, sat on the podium, chatting and laughing with those beside him, exuding refined composure.

Li Ping'an, accompanied by two plain‑clothes police officers, disguised as staff, slipped silently into the backstage area. Through a slit in the curtain, he could clearly see Zheng Zeming's solemn, self‑righteous face.

At nine o'clock sharp, the meeting began on schedule. Zheng Zeming cleared his throat, and, using his magnetic voice, addressed the Speech: Comrades, today's meeting is primarily to implement the central government's latest directives on literary and art work…

He spoke fluently, quoting classics, and applause rose intermittently from the audience. Li Ping'an watched this scene and felt deeply ironic.

At that moment, the conference room door was gently pushed open, and several people in ordinary cadre uniforms entered in a line, marching straight toward the podium. Zheng Zeming's Speech faltered briefly, a barely perceptible doubt flashing across his face before he quickly regained his composure.

The leader displayed his credentials; his voice was low yet clearly carried through the suddenly silent hall: Zheng Zeming, we are from the Municipal Public Security Bureau, and we are now lawfully detaining you; please cooperate with our work.

The hall erupted in a roar! Everyone was stunned, looking at the stage in disbelief.

Zheng Zeming's complexion turned instantly ashen, but he forced composure, even forcing a smile: Comrade, is there some misunderstanding? I am presiding over the meeting…

No misunderstanding. The police officer cut him off, voice icy: Your code name is—do you need me to continue?

Hearing the two words, Zheng Zeming seemed struck by lightning, his body visibly jolting, his facial color draining completely. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but finally only sagged his head, as if all his vigor had been sucked away in an instant.

Two police officers stepped forward, one on each side, and cleanly fastened handcuffs on him. Under the shocked, bewildered, inquisitive gazes of the entire audience, the once‑glorious Cultural Bureau Deputy Director Zheng Zeming was escorted away from the podium.

Simultaneously, multiple arrest teams acted, and based on the list supplied by Li Ping'an, captured the members of Zheng Zeming's Spy Network one by one, seizing abundant evidence of espionage activities and financial transactions.

During the official search of Zheng Zeming's home, investigators successfully located the hidden secret room. When the heavy camphor wood chest was moved and the secret room entrance was exposed in broad daylight, everyone involved inhaled a sharp gasp of cool air.

Gold bars, counterfeit money, Radio Station, weapons, katana, the blue‑sky white‑sun flag… each piece of evidence was hauled out and logged. The proof was as solid as a mountain; Zheng Zeming's spy identity and crimes could no longer be denied.

The news spread through the city like wings, causing a massive sensation. No one had expected that the usually refined, erudite Deputy Director Zheng was in fact a spy chief who had been lurking for years!

On the day the case closed, Wang Dahu excitedly clapped his arm around Li Ping'an's shoulder: Section Chief! Now we've really shown our faces! This time Donglaishun is a must‑go, my treat! No one is allowed to cut in!

Li Ping'an smiled, but felt little triumph, instead a heaviness. He walked to the window, watching the bustling streets outside; behind the scene of peace and safety, he wondered how many unseen undercurrents still lurked.

Although Zheng Zeming was captured, was the network behind him completely eradicated? Does that mysterious Code system still have a deeper source?

He brushed his hand over the copy of the Code Book already handed in, his gaze turning profound. This hidden‑in‑the‑shadows struggle is far from over.

"Let's go," he turned, patting Wang Dahu, "time for a meal." "But remember, our work is like sweeping a yard; after one pass, we still have to guard against leaves falling again."

Outside the window, the sunset's afterglow gilded the city, but Li Ping'an knew night would soon fall, and guarding this light is a duty they must never slacken.