Chapter 344

The echo of the Security Section plenary meeting's "setting the string" still seemed to faintly reverberate in the hallway.

Li Ping'an's "striking the mountain to shock the tiger" made the section's atmosphere suddenly stern; the density and meticulousness of patrols and inspections quietly rose a level. Nobody expected that this heightened vigilance would so quickly run into "the goods".

The incident occurred late at night three days later.

Northern area of the Steel Rolling Mill, near the special materials warehouse. This is a relatively secluded corner of the plant, storing some seldom-used but vitally important special components and scarce materials; the perimeter wall is half a meter higher than elsewhere, and usually only an old gatekeeper guards it.

According to the new duty roster, tonight's patrol squad was personally led by Chen Jianghe.

The night wind carried the lingering chill of early spring, making the dry grass on the warehouse wall rustle softly. A few dim yellow streetlights barely outlined the huge warehouse and the adjacent storage yard; beyond the light lay a darkness so thick it could not be dispelled.

Chen Jianghe, accompanied by two experienced security guards, lightened his steps and moved soundlessly along the predetermined route outside the wall. The flashlight beams were strictly kept low, illuminating only the ground a few meters ahead.

"Boss, this place is so desolate even birds don't drop—could anyone really come?" a younger security guard asked in a lowered voice, his breath condensing into white mist in the darkness.

"Cut the nonsense; Li Chief ordered us to focus on this, so there must be a reason. Keep your eyes sharp and your ears pricked." Chen Jianghe snapped, his gaze sweeping like a hawk over every corner of the darkness. He actually had some doubts himself, but he never wavered from his brother-in-law's orders.

Just as they were about to go around the warehouse corner, an extremely faint metallic scraping "squeak" drifted downwind. The sound was very brief, almost drowned by the wind, but in the night where they deliberately kept silent, it sounded especially piercing.

Chen Jianghe immediately raised his hand and clenched his fist; the two behind him stopped instantly and held their breath. The three exchanged a look, then quickly hid in the shadow of a nearby pile of discarded timber.

The sound came from the direction of a small side door on the warehouse's flank. That door is normally locked, used only for emergency entry and occasional loading/unloading of special materials.

A few seconds later, the side door was gently pushed open a crack from inside, and a black silhouette poked its head out, looking left and right.

In the extremely faint light of a distant streetlamp, one could see that the person wore the common dark-blue work uniform of the Steel Rolling Mill, with a cap pulled low over the brow.

After seemingly confirming safety, the black figure slipped sideways out, still holding a bulging, canvas-wrapped long object that looked heavy.

After emerging, the black figure did not immediately leave but turned, carefully re-latching the side door with practiced ease. Then he lifted the bundle, bent at the waist, and hurried to a dark corner of the wall—where some leftover repair bricks were stacked, their height nearly level with the top of the wall, forming a potential climbing point.

"Move!" Chen Jianghe no longer hesitated, gave a low shout, and the three leapt out of the shadows like panthers; their flashlight beams flared to full brightness simultaneously, like three light-swords pinning the black figure.

"Don't move! Security Section!"

The black figure stiffened from shock at the sudden light and shout, and the canvas bag in his hand clanged to the ground with a dull metallic thud.

He instinctively tried to run, but Chen Jianghe had already lunged to block his front‑side, while the other two members swiftly flanked him left and right.

"Com… comrade, don't misunderstand, I am…" the black figure's voice trembled noticeably as he tried to explain.

Chen Jianghe ignored him, shining the flashlight directly on his face. He was a man in his thirties, sallow and thin, eyes panicked, looking somewhat familiar—apparently a third‑class fitter from the Second Workshop, surname Wang.

"Wang Youfu? In the middle of the night, why aren't you in the dormitory and what are you doing at the special materials warehouse? What's in that bundle?" Chen Jianghe demanded sharply, while giving a signal to his teammates.

One teammate immediately stepped forward, picked up the canvas bag—it felt heavy in hand. Opening it, he found several sections of silver‑gray metal, thumb‑thick, with special threads and slots, gleaming coldly in the light.

Chen Jianghe felt a sudden thump in his chest. He recognized the item: it was a special spare transmission connector for the plant's imported large rolling mill, code‑named "TZ‑7", made of a special alloy that is extremely hard to produce domestically, each piece numbered and strictly controlled as an important spare. What could Wang Youfu possibly intend by stealing this?

Seeing the parts exposed, Wang Youfu's legs went weak, nearly collapsing, his face ashen: "I… I… I just… thought this thing looked sturdy, wanted… wanted to take it out and sell it as scrap iron, to get… get some money for cigarettes…"

"Sell it as scrap?" Chen Jianghe snorted in anger, pointing at the obviously precision‑machined connector. "Do you take me for a three‑year‑old? Selling this as scrap? Speak! Who told you to steal it? Who were you going to hand it over to?"

"No… no one told me to steal! It was really just me…" Wang Youfu stammered, his eyes darting.

Chen Jianghe stopped wasting words and ordered his men: "Keep watch on him, secure the items. Xiao Liu, run to the duty room right now and telephone Li Chief! Report that the northern special materials warehouse has been caught red‑handed, person and goods both seized, involving important special parts!"

"Yes!"

That night Li Ping'an was still working overtime at the Steel Rolling Mill; when the call came, he had just finished checking a few plant gates and returned to his office not long before. Hearing Chen Jianghe's urgent report, his brows immediately knotted.

Stealing ordinary copper wire or iron scraps is nothing unusual, but stealing numbered, strictly controlled special precision parts? That's an entirely different matter.

He immediately set off for the northern area. The night grew darker and the wind colder. Upon arriving at the scene, Wang Youfu was already handcuffed to a makeshift chair, head bowed in dejection, with the bundle of parts placed on an old wooden table beside him. Chen Jianghe gave a brief rundown of what had happened.

Li Ping'an did not rush to interrogate Wang Youfu; instead he walked to the table, picked up a connector, and examined it closely under the light. The machining precision was very high, the surface bore a faint oil stain—likely anti‑rust oil applied during storage maintenance.

He paid particular attention to an inconspicuous steel‑stamped number on the part's end, which indeed matched the ledger. Such components, let alone selling them as scrap, would not even be accepted at a regular materials recycling station—they're too conspicuous.

So Wang Youfu's theft of this must have a specific fencing channel, or… a particular buyer.

Li Ping'an set the part down, walked over to Wang Youfu, pulled up a chair and sat, calmly regarding him. His composure put more pressure on Wang Youfu than Chen Jianghe's harsh shouting.

"Wang Youfu, third‑class fitter of the Second Workshop, lives at Nanluoguxiang; his household has five members—his wife unemployed, his elderly mother constantly on medication, and two children in school."

Li Ping'an spoke slowly, yet his words concerned Wang Youfu's family situation: "Life is tight. But even if it's tighter, do you know what kind of offense it is to steal important plant property, especially these special parts?"

Wang Youfu lowered his head further, his body beginning to tremble slightly.

"According to current regulations, for minor amounts and light circumstances, the penalty might be expulsion and referral to the Police Substation. But your case—"

Li Ping'an pointed to the part on the table: "This is no ordinary 'scrap iron'. It is a key spare for critical equipment; its loss could disrupt major production tasks or be exploited by ill‑intentioned persons, causing greater harm. That makes the offense serious. Put bluntly, you could easily get ten or eight years."

"Chief! Li Chief! I… I really didn't think that far!" Wang Youfu panicked, snot and tears streaming: "I… I was just bewitched! Someone… someone told me this stuff has buyers outside who pay… pay high prices…"

"Who told you? Who is the buyer? How do you contact them? Exactly what did they ask you to steal, and how much?" Li Ping'an's questions came rapid‑fire, though his tone remained steady.

Wang Youfu's psychological defenses were already fragile; Li Ping'an's intimidation and questioning caused them to collapse completely.

He stammered out: About half a month earlier, while drinking at a small tavern outside the plant, he had casually met a man who called himself "Old Tan". Upon learning he worked at the Steel Rolling Mill, Old Tan ingratiated himself over a few drinks, then began probing for information about the plant's equipment and parts. Later, Old Tan privately approached him, saying a friend engaged in mechanical research urgently needed some special metal pieces as samples, specifically requesting TZ‑7 connectors, offering a large sum—up to eighty yuan each—and had already paid a twenty‑yuan deposit.

Eighty yuan! That amounted to more than two months of Wang Youfu's wages. Confronted with such a large sum, and given his family's real difficulties, Wang Youfu hesitated repeatedly before finally taking the risk.

He took advantage of a trip to the warehouse to help out, secretly noting the side‑lock's rough structure and patrol routine, and quietly had a key made. Tonight was his first attempt; he never expected to be caught red‑handed just after succeeding.

"What does Old Tan look like? How old is he? What accent does he have? Where does he usually operate? How do you stay in touch?" Li Ping'an pressed for details.

Wang Youfu struggled to recall: "He's… maybe in his forties, not tall, a bit plump, his speech carries a… a Northeastern accent? Perhaps also a hint of Hebei… I can't be sure. He hangs around outside Dongzhimen, saying he looks for work at the freight yard. He told me that after I get the item, tomorrow noon I should wrap it in oil paper and place it under the third stone slab east of the old moat sluice; he'll naturally come to pick it up. The money… the money will be left in the same spot when it's ready."

Outside Dongzhimen, the freight yard, with its transient population, Li Ping'an quickly reckoned: Would someone seeking odd jobs at the freight yard really pay a high price to buy precision parts from the Steel Rolling Mill's specialized equipment under the pretext of "research samples"? That excuse is pathetically lame.

A far likelier possibility is that he is a spy or operative. The target is very clear: these industrial parts with special material, craftsmanship, and use, intended for analysis, research, even imitation or sabotage.

He rose and instructed Chen Jianghe: "Keep him under watch, hold him separately, allow no one to contact him. Record the numbers of the items on the table, then seal them as important evidence. Tonight's incident, all involved personnel must observe strict secrecy—not a word may leak outward."

"Yes, Chief!" Chen Jianghe also grasped the gravity of the matter, his expression solemn.

Li Ping'an walked outside the warehouse, drew a deep breath of icy air. The night sky was pitch‑black, without a star. What had seemed to be a disturbance over logistics management and power struggles actually concealed a dangerous undercurrent.

Wang Youfu is merely a small fish being used; the real target is that "Old Tan" and the possible network behind him.

The Security Section's duty is to protect the plant's safety. Yet at this moment, the very meaning of that safety appears to need redefinition.

He felt no joy at cracking the case, only a heavier sense of responsibility and vigilance.

This matter must be reported immediately to superior departments and relevant authorities. At the same time, internal screening and vigilance need to be launched at once, with higher standards and greater concealment.

Li Ping'an's gaze turned sharp as a blade; he knew that a struggle unlike any before—more covert and perilous—might already have begun.

Behind the theft of this 'steel cable', what may have been pulled out is a meticulously woven 'dark line' attempting to strangle the industrial lifeline.