Chapter 377: Midnight Secret Meeting

The night was as dark as ink.

The Siheyuan lay ensnared in a net woven from snores and dream mutterings.

The lights of Xi Kua Yuan had long been out.

Li Ping'an rose silently.

His movements were even more gentle than the previous nights, yet carried a completely different resolve.

Li Ping'an changed into a half‑worn but clean and tidy military‑style casual uniform.

He carefully fastened every button.

He then retrieved from the bottom of the box a military merit badge carefully wrapped in red cloth, its edges already worn.

After a moment's stare, he solemnly pinned it to the spot on the inner collar near his heart.

The cold metal felt as if it carried the scent of gunpowder and bloodfire.

In an instant it pulled him back to the Korean battlefield of many years ago.

It recalled those years of hail of bullets and life‑and‑death together.

It also brought back that stern yet broad face.

Zhou Zhengwei.

He was Li Ping'an's former superior when he first enlisted; Zhou Zhengwei is still in the troops, now holding a leadership position in a certain important department.

His position is critical, his party loyalty extremely strong, and he is upright and incorruptible, tolerating no impurity.

Most importantly, Zhou Zhengwei is one of the few people Li Ping'an can trust absolutely in this world, aside from family.

He is the kind of person to whom one can entrust one's back and even one's life completely.

The shopkeeper's true identity is like an ever‑expanding nightmare exuding toxic gas.

Even with his jade pendant space and martial skill, he alone can hardly shake this poisonous tree whose roots have long penetrated the rock.

He needs power.

He needs reliable, sufficiently weighty power.

He needs a channel that can reach the heavens' ears at a critical moment.

Zhou Zhengwei is the only possible choice right now.

It is also a choice fraught with great risk.

If a misjudgment occurs, or Zhou Zhengwei is powerless, it could even bring an even swifter disaster.

But Li Ping'an has no other way.

He gently pushed open the back window.

The night wind surged in, bearing the biting chill of deep autumn.

He turned back, glanced at his sleeping wife and two children on the bed.

His gaze was calm yet hid a resolve to spare no effort.

Then, he rolled over and stepped out.

He merged into the deep night.

He did not ride a bicycle.

He pushed his movement to the limit, like an invisible gust in the night.

He raced through the sleeping city, evading occasional Patrol Squads, heading toward the West City military compound.

The compound's guard posts were far stricter than usual.

High walls, Electric Grid, armed guards with live ammunition.

But Li Ping'an was not entirely unfamiliar with this place.

In earlier years he had visited Zhou Zhengwei several times.

He knew where the blind spots were and which old vines on the wall could be used for leverage.

More importantly, he was familiar with the guards' shift patterns and patrol routes.

He condensed his breath to the extreme, clinging to a shadowed section of wall covered in dead vines like a gecko.

Divine Perception silently probed the courtyard.

It confirmed the guards' positions and movement tracks.

He seized a brief opening.

His figure flickered slightly, gliding over the high wall like a wisp of smoke.

He landed silently, hidden behind a dense holly thicket.

The whole process was so fast it left only an afterimage on the retina.

The courtyard paths were tidy, streetlights sparse.

Rows of Soviet‑style small buildings stood orderly, most already plunged into darkness.

Li Ping'an moved like a specter, swiftly through the shadows between the buildings.

Soon, he found the building where Zhou Zhengwei lived.

Second floor, east unit.

Curtains tightly closed, no light.

Li Ping'an did not rashly approach.

He lurked in the shadow of the flowerbed before the building, Divine Perception flowing like gentle water toward the familiar window.

Inside, breathing was even.

Zhou Zhengwei and his old companion seemed already asleep.

But Li Ping'an knew that Zhou Zhengwei slept with extreme vigilance.

The habit left from the battlefield, unchanged for several decades.

He must use a way that the other party can understand and that will not immediately provoke an overreaction, to convey his identity and purpose.

He fell silent for a moment.

He picked up a small stone from the ground.

He flicked it with his finger.

The stone traced a fine arc and struck the glass of the second-floor window precisely.

It made a soft "da" sound.

In the quiet night, this sound was not loud.

But for a veteran sleeping with his weapon at the ready, it was enough.

Indeed.

The even breathing inside the house suddenly paused.

Immediately after, there was an extremely faint rustling sound.

Someone got up.

No lights were turned on.

The curtain was lifted to reveal an extremely narrow slit.

A pair of eyes, sharp as an eagle's, swept downward in the darkness.

Li Ping'an stepped slowly out of the shadows.

He exposed half of his body to the moonlight leaking through a gap in the clouds.

He raised his hand.

He made a gesture that was extremely simple but held special meaning only between the two of them.

It was one of the secret signals they used during nighttime lurking and contact in the army back then.

It meant "friend, urgent situation, meet alone."

The eyes behind the curtain stared at him fixedly for several seconds.

As if confirming, as if recalling.

Then the curtain slit closed.

A moment later.

The small door of the first-floor storeroom, rarely used, was opened silently a crack.

A tall figure in a military overcoat stood in the shadow inside the door.

He slightly nodded his head toward Li Ping'an.

Li Ping'an immediately slipped inside.

The door closed softly behind him.

The storeroom was filled with miscellaneous items, the space cramped, the air a bit stuffy.

Only the faint light seeping through the door crack and a high small window barely outlined the two figures.

Zhou Zhengwei looked somewhat older than a few years ago.

More white hair at his temples, the wrinkles on his face like knife cuts.

But his posture remained straight, his gaze in the darkness still sharp enough to make one dare not meet it.

He sized up Li Ping'an from head to toe.

His gaze lingered on Li Ping'an's neat uniform and on those eyes that remained calm even in the darkness.

"Li Ping'an?" Zhou Zhengwei's voice was low, hoarse from just waking, yet unusually steady, "You aren't from the Security Department of the Steel Rolling Mill? In the dead of night, scaling the wall into the compound, what are you up to?"

His tone held little surprise, more scrutiny and a faint hint of concern.

"Old chief," Li Ping'an's voice was a little dry but unusually clear, "The situation is urgent, involving major state security; going through normal channels is too risky. I can only see you this way."

"State security?" Zhou Zhengwei's brows knit, his eyes sharper, "Explain clearly."

Li Ping'an took a deep breath.

He knew that each of the following words would be crucial.

He had to convey the seriousness and horror of the matter in the simplest, most credible way.

He began with Xu Damao's discovery of the iron box.

He spoke of Su Xiulan and the "Yingzi" plan.

He spoke of Lao Sun Tou and Lao Dao.

He spoke of the explosives in the hardware warehouse and the new workshop blueprints.

He spoke of the button and nightmare from Deputy Director Zhao's home at the City Bureau.

He then spoke of the made-up man at the scrap yard.

Finally, he spoke of that black car.

The hand wearing white gloves.

That dragon-patterned cufflink.

And… the person in the car, that face he had seen countless times in formal settings and news briefings.

That suffocating identity.

He did not mention his own Divine Perception and jade pendant space.

He only said that through long-term investigation, surveillance, and piecing together clues, he finally confirmed it.

Throughout the narration, Zhou Zhengwei listened silently.

He did not interrupt.

It was only those eyes, blazing in the darkness, that showed his heart was far from as calm as it seemed on the surface.

When Li Ping'an uttered that name and title.

Zhou Zhengwei's body trembled imperceptibly.

The military coat he wore seemed a few pounds heavier.

The storage room fell into a death‑like silence.

Only the two of them's suppressed breathing could be heard.

A long while.

Zhou Zhengwei spoke slowly, his voice as if ground by sand and stone.

"Li Ping'an, do you know what you're saying?"

"Do you know what it means to accuse a comrade like this?"

"Do you realize, if this is true, how earth‑shattering and nation‑shaking the matter would be?"

Each of his questions weighed as heavy as iron.

"I know."

Li Ping'an met his gaze without flinching, "Precisely for that reason I had to see you. I have no ironclad evidence to place on the table. Yet I vouch with my Party loyalty, with a soldier's honor, with the very life you once rescued from the battlefield, that every word I speak is true."

"The individual, code‑named 'Shopkeeper', is deeply embedded with a massive network. He began his scheme back in the pre‑liberation Yongli Machine Factory era; his goal is far beyond destroying one or two factories. His damage is incalculable."

Zhou Zhengwei fell silent again.

He turned, reached into the pile of junk beside him, and produced an old pipe.

He slowly packed tobacco into it.

He struck a match.

The faint flame lit his sharply chiseled profile and the raging tempest in his eyes.

He took a deep drag.

The pungent smoke filled the cramped space.

"You came to see me—what do you intend to do?" he asked, his voice regaining its usual calm, yet deeper.

"Even with me alone, or with the Steel Factory Security Department, the City Bureau, or the current joint investigation team, we cannot shake him."

Li confessed, "I need power. I need a force that can drive a thorough investigation from higher, more covert channels. I need absolutely reliable comrades to create support and pressure on the periphery."

"Veteran commander, you are in the troops, your position is pivotal, your connections are deep, and your Party principles I have seen with my own eyes. For this matter, I can only, and dare only, come to you."

Zhou Zhengwei slowly exhaled a ring of smoke.

Amid the swirling smoke, his gaze grew deep and complex.

There was shock, anger, and disbelief.

And an even heavier sense of responsibility and resolve.

"This matter is too big," he said slowly, "so big that even I alone might not be able to bear it."

"But since you found me, since you offered your life and honor as guarantee..."

He paused, the pipe flickering a faint red glow in the darkness.

"I trust you."

Three words.

Heavy as a thousand pounds.

The massive stone that had long hung in Li Ping'an's heart crashed down with a thud.

His eyes even felt a little warm.

"But," Zhou Zhengwei's tone shifted, his voice lethal, "we cannot act recklessly. The opponent holds high rank and power, with countless eyes and ears; a single misstep could lead to irreversible disaster."

"From now on, we must do three things."

"First, you immediately cease all overt investigations and surveillance. Return to your 'suspended idle' status to lull the target. Your safety is the prerequisite for everything that follows."

"Second, compile every clue, personal connection, time and place you have, no matter how fragmentary, into a top‑secret dossier. No electronic records—everything handwritten, using a cipher only the two of us understand. In three days, at the old place, I will retrieve it."

"Third," Zhou Zhengwei's gaze was knife‑sharp in the dark, "I need time. I must tap some unconventional, absolutely reliable old‑unit contacts to verify information from the side and set up a secret reporting channel that bypasses the regular system. This requires time and luck."

"During this period, you are like a nail—stay firmly in place. Observe, wait, but do not act rashly. Protect yourself and protect your family."

"Understood?"

"Understood!" Li Ping'an straightened his back and said softly.

"Good." Zhou Zhengwei snuffed out the pipe, "Return the way you came right now. In the future, unless I contact you first or a life‑or‑death emergency arises, do not risk coming here again."

"Yes!"

Li Ping'an said no more.

Facing this mentor‑and‑friend, now his sole hope, the veteran commander, he solemnly rendered a military salute.

Then, he turned.

Just as on his arrival, he slipped silently back into the night.

He scaled the wall and left.

Zhou Zhengwei stood behind the storage room door.

Listening to the faint wind outside fading away.

He walked slowly back into the room.

He did not turn on the lights.

He sat on the living‑room sofa.

In the darkness, only the pipe he reignited between his fingers flickered on and off.

Like the fierce surging tide of his heart at that moment.

The news Li Ping'an brought was too shocking, too terrifying.

If it's true…

It would be a storm capable of tearing the sky apart.

And he has already been pushed to the edge of that storm.

No.

It was his choice to stand here.

For those fallen comrades.

For this hard‑won peace.

Also for a soldier, a Party member, whose Faith and loyalty must not be tarnished.

He picked up the secure Telephone on the desk.

He hesitated for a moment.

Then set it down.

It's not the time yet.

He needs a more reliable channel.

He needs… to find a few truly trustworthy, also daring old comrades.

Outside the window, the night remained dense.

But Zhou Zhengwei knows.

From this moment on.

A more secret, more perilous contest.

Has already, under this deep night veil, quietly begun its prelude.

And he and the pieces he has placed in secret.

Will become the first dagger thrust at that massive shadow.

The night is thick.

The road is still long.