Chapter 385: Reinstated to Original Position

Night was like ink, splashed over the streets and alleys of Four Nine City.

Li Ping'an pushed his bicycle, walking along the empty street.

A net bag of apples hung from the handlebars, red and glowing with a warm sheen under the yellow streetlights.

He had bought them specially this afternoon at the supply and marketing cooperative, picking over them again and again.

They were not a gift.

They were for a visit.

To visit an old man who might have spent the night sleepless.

The army compound is in the east city, about seven or eight li from the Siheyuan.

Li Ping'an rode slowly, the wheels rolling over the stone flags making a rhythmic soft sound.

Most windows on either side of the street were dark; the few that had lights on had their curtains drawn tight.

Last night's gunfire left the whole city feeling uneasy.

Passing through the residential district in West City where last night's fighting had been fiercest, Li Ping'an slowed his pace.

The air still held a faint smell of gunpowder.

Several courtyard walls bore fresh bullet holes, dark and gaping like silent mouths.

The ground showed dark brown stains, washed with water but not completely cleaned away.

Li Ping'an glanced at them once, then looked away.

He pushed harder with his feet, and the wheels sped up.

Some things, once seen, are best kept in mind.

Speaking of them would only add trouble.

The gate of the army compound was strictly guarded.

Two sentinels stood rifle in hand, spines straight, eyes sharp as hawks.

Li Ping'an stopped ten steps from the gate, got off his bike, and pushed it forward.

"Comrade, please show your ID." The sentinel raised a hand to stop him.

Li Ping'an produced his work ID—still the one from his post as Head of the Security Department at the Steel Rolling Mill; although he had been suspended, the ID had not been confiscated.

The sentinel took it, examined it closely, then looked him over.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Zhou Zhengwei."

Li Ping'an said, "My name is Li Ping'an; he knows me."

The sentinel turned and went into the guard post, picking up the telephone.

He spoke a few words in a low voice.

After hanging up, he came out and returned the ID to Li Ping'an.

"Go on in, second building in the third row."

"Thank you."

Li Ping'an pushed his bike inside.

The compound was quiet, only the rustle of wind in the treetops.

Rows of red-brick cottages stood in neat order, warm light spilling from their windows.

Children ran and played below, their laughter clear and bright.

It seemed as if last night's gunfire and this place belonged to two different worlds.

The second building in the third row was a two-story structure.

An old locust tree stood before the door, its branches and leaves lush.

Li Ping'an propped his bicycle under the tree and picked up the net bag of apples.

He took a deep breath, raised his hand, and knocked.

Thud, thud, thud.

Neither light nor heavy, three knocks.

The door opened.

The one who opened it was a young man in casual military attire, eyes wary.

"Comrade Li Ping'an?" he asked.

"It's me."

"Please come in."

The young man stepped aside.

Li Ping'an entered the house.

The living room was plain: white-gray walls, concrete floor, a few rattan chairs around a square table.

On the wall hung a portrait of a great leader, and also a national map.

Zhou Zhengwei sat in the rattan chair by the window, holding a document, with reading glasses perched on his nose.

Hearing the footsteps, he lifted his head.

"You've come?" His voice was tired, but his eyes were bright.

"Commissioner." Li Ping'an set the apples on the table, "I happened to be passing by and thought I'd drop in to see you."

"Please sit." Zhou Zhengwei took off his glasses and rubbed his brow.

The young man brought two cups of tea, set them on the table, then withdrew, gently closing the door behind him.

Only the two of them remained in the living room.

The tea fragrance curled delicately, rising in the lamplight.

Zhou Zhengwei lifted the teacup, blew on it, and took a sip.

"Want to ask about last night's incident?"

"Straight to the point."

Li Ping'an nodded.

"Casualties are not small."

Zhou Zhengwei set down the teacup, his voice low: "Three killed, seven seriously wounded, over a dozen lightly wounded."

Li Ping'an's heart tightened.

"What about the shopkeeper?"

"He ran." Zhou Zhengwei spat out two words, his tone tinged with regret: "Before we closed in, he slipped away through the secret passage. He was more cunning than we thought, having prepared an escape route in advance."

Li Ping'an fell silent.

He had actually anticipated this outcome.

Someone like the shopkeeper would never sit and wait for death.

"But his network has basically been torn apart by us."

Zhou Zhengwei picked up a list from the table and handed it to Li Ping'an: "Thirty-seven people, we've arrested thirty-one, four are at large, two died. The one who died was the fifth on the list; he resisted arrest and was shot on the spot."

Li Ping'an took the list.

It was covered in red checkmarks, with only a few names marked "at large" or "deceased."

His gaze fell on the last name.

Shopkeeper.

Beside it was blank.

"He ran, but he won't get far."

Zhou Zhengwei lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and said: "The whole country is hunting him; stations and docks are all under surveillance. His only way out is to head north and slip across the border."

Amid the curling smoke, his eyes were sharp as a blade.

"But we won't give him that chance."

Li Ping'an put the list back on the table.

"Then... what do we do next?"

Zhou Zhengwei looked at him and suddenly laughed.

His smile held both relief and emotion.

"The list you brought in was a major contribution. The higher-ups already know about it and have issued a special directive."

He stood up, walked to the cabinet, opened a drawer, and took out a file folder.

He walked back and handed it to Li Ping'an.

"Take a look."

Li Ping'an took it and opened it.

Inside was a red-header document.

The title read: "Decision on the Reinstatement of Comrade Li Ping'an."

Below it was stamped with a bright red seal.

There was more than one.

From the steel rolling mill, the city, and even higher up.

Li Ping'an's fingers trembled slightly.

He raised his head and looked at Zhou Zhengwei.

"This is..."

"You've been reinstated to your original post."

Zhou Zhengwei sat down again, saying, "Not only have you been reinstated, but you've also been promoted half a grade. Effective now, you are the Party Committee Deputy Secretary of the Steel Rolling Mill and Head of the Security Department, administrative grade fourteen."

Grade fourteen.

Li Ping'an's heart jolted.

This already crossed the threshold into mid-level cadre status.

You should know, he was previously just a section chief, grade seventeen.

This jump skipped three grades.

"Why?" he asked.

"Rewards according to merit."

Zhou Zhengwei said simply, "Your clues helped us crack the biggest covert-operation case since the founding of the nation. This achievement cannot be erased."

He paused.

"Moreover, you need this identity."

Li Ping'an's eyes flickered.

"Although the shopkeeper ran, his remnants remain. Those four at large on the list are die-hard elements; they might retaliate, or make a desperate struggle."

Zhou Zhengwei flicked ash from his cigarette.

"Your reinstatement and promotion give you legitimate protection. The factory will assign you guards, and your home will receive heightened security. This is the organization's care for you, and also... your protection."

Li Ping'an understood.

Reinstatement is not just a reward; it's also a protective cover.

Having him in the open, with a proper identity and resources, actually makes him safer.

"So… what should I do?" Li Ping'an asked.

Zhou Zhengwei snuffed out the cigarette.

"Two things. First, go back to the Steel Factory and straighten out the Security Department. Last night's capture involved your plant as well; the seventeenth name on the list is the Deputy Section Chief of your plant's Logistics Department. When you go back, you must clean it up completely, leaving no hidden risks."

"Second," he paused, "assist us in tracking down the fugitives. You know the Shopkeeper's network best; some clues may be visible only to you."

Li Ping'an nodded heavily.

"I understand."

"Also," Zhou Zhengwei said, looking at Li Ping'an, his eyes complex, "you must be careful yourself. Though the Shopkeeper has fled, his influence is tangled and deep. Open attacks are easy to dodge, but hidden arrows are hard to guard against."

The words weighed heavily.

Li Ping'an knew it clearly in his heart.

This battle hasn't been finished yet.

It could even be said that we have just entered the most dangerous stage.

Desperate dogs jump over walls; a frantic rabbit bites.

A person like the Shopkeeper, once cornered, can do anything.

"I will be careful," he said.

Zhou Zhengwei nodded, lifted his teacup, and set it down again.

"Thank you, Political Commissar."

"No need to thank me." Zhou Zhengwei put his reading glasses back on, took the documents, "If you must thank anyone, thank yourself. It was you who risked your life."

The living room fell quiet again.

Only the rustle of pages turning.

Li Ping'an lifted his teacup; the tea was already cold.

But he still drank it in one gulp.

The cold tea went down his throat, clearing his mind.

"Then I… will go back first." He stood up.

"Wait." Zhou Zhengwei took another item from the drawer.

It was a red cloth bag.

He opened it; inside was a Red Star medal.

It was made of bronze, a bit old, but polished bright.

"This is for you." Zhou Zhengwei placed the medal in Li Ping'an's hand, "It was mine back then. I don't need it now; keep it."

Li Ping'an clenched the medal tightly.

The metal felt warm, smooth, and heavy.

"Remember," Zhou Zhengwei looked at him, word for word, "no matter what difficulties you face, think of this Red Star. It stands for not only honor but also responsibility."

Li Ping'an stood at attention and saluted.

Although not in a uniform, his movements were precise and meticulous.

Zhou Zhengwei returned the salute.

"Go ahead. Report to the Steel Factory tomorrow."

Li Ping'an turned and walked out of the living room.

The young man escorted him out.

At the courtyard gate, the young man suddenly whispered, "Li Chief, if anything comes up, you can come directly to me. I'm Chen Jianguo, the Political Commissar's guard."

Li Ping'an nodded.

"Thank you."

He pushed the cart out of the courtyard.

The night remained deep and solemn.

But Li Ping'an felt the burden on his shoulders grew heavier.

Being reinstated to his former post and promoted is a good thing.

But it also means he must stand in a more conspicuous position, facing more direct threats.

The Shopkeeper's remnants, the four fugitives, and possibly other hidden ones…

Will all see him as a thorn in their side.

He got on the vehicle and headed back.

The wheels rolled through the night, rustling.

He held the Red Star medal in his hand.

The metal's edge dug into his palm, a little painful.

But it also kept him clear‑headed.

He knew that from tomorrow onward, everything would be different.

He must return to the Steel Factory, straighten out the Security Department, and eliminate hidden risks.

He must assist in tracking down the fugitives.

He must protect his family and protect himself.

And also… wait.

Wait for the day the Shopkeeper is caught.

Wait for this prolonged covert war to finally end.

The wind blew from behind, carrying the chill of late autumn.

Li Ping'an straightened his back and pedaled hard.

Ahead, the night was as dark as ink.

But there was always light, glowing in the distance.

Illuminating the road ahead.