Chapter 397: Xu Damao's Threat

The fluorescent tube in the Interrogation Room emitted a faint hum, and the pallid light fell on the Shopkeeper's face, highlighting every deep wrinkle.

He had been sitting on the iron chair for six hours, his posture hardly changing.

The shackles on his wrist had chafed his skin, and the oozing blood dried on the metal edge into a dark‑red scab.

The ashtray before Zhou Zhengwei was full again.

He flicked out the cigarette in his hand and stared at the man opposite him, silent as a stone.

"Zheng Bingkun," Zhou Zhengwei began, his voice hoarse from prolonged speaking, "you won't hold out much longer."

The Shopkeeper's eyelids twitched.

It was his only reaction in six hours.

"Your accomplices—everything that needed to be disclosed has been disclosed."

Zhou Zhengwei opened a thick transcript and said, "Old Smoke told us about your three secret accounts held at Hong Kong's HSBC. Old Five reported your property in Tianjin under an alias. Even your most trusted personal bodyguard revealed the batch of gold you buried in Xishan."

With each sentence, the Shopkeeper's breathing grew heavier.

Yet his face remained expressionless.

"Do you know what this means?"

Zhou Zhengwei closed the transcript, "It means we've already mapped out your assets. Your stubbornness now is nothing but a belief that you can still protect those last few secrets."

He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside was pitch‑black night, with the guard post's searchlight sweeping across only occasionally.

"But think about it—those money, those houses, that gold—can you still make use of any of it?"

Zhou Zhengwei turned, his gaze like a blade, "You can't get out, Zheng Bingkun. For the rest of your life, you'll be confined within these four walls."

The Shopkeeper finally lifted his head.

His eyes were streaked with blood vessels, yet his stare remained stubborn.

"So what?"

His voice was hoarse, like a cracked wind‑box.

"Not much," Zhou Zhengwei said, walking back to the desk and sitting down again, "but you can choose: go into the coffin with all your secrets, or speak them out and gain a bit of... dignity."

"Dignity?" the Shopkeeper laughed, his laugh dry, "Someone like me—what dignity could I still want?"

"At least, you could avoid some hardship," Zhou Zhengwei lit a new cigarette, "You know, there are certain methods we haven't employed. Not because we can't, but because we don't want to. But if you keep being this uncooperative..."

He didn't finish.

But both understood the implication.

The Shopkeeper remained silent for a long time.

Long enough that Zhou Zhengwei thought he was about to play dead again.

"Give me a cigarette," the Shopkeeper suddenly said.

Zhou Zhengwei stared briefly, then pulled a cigarette from the pack, walked over, shoved it into his mouth, and lit it.

The Shopkeeper took a deep drag.

The smoke swirled in his lungs before he exhaled slowly.

"My code name is 'Candle Dragon'," he began, his voice terrifyingly calm, "I joined Military Statistics in the 35th year of the Republic, and was personally received by Dai Li. In the 36th year, I was ordered to go underground, with a mission of long‑term concealment, waiting for the right moment."

Zhou Zhengwei scribbled rapidly.

The pen tip scratched across the paper, rustling.

"After liberation, I crawled for fifteen years before reaching that position."

The Shopkeeper took another drag, "All these years, I've cultivated thirty‑seven people and built a complete network. If it weren't for Li Ping'an..."

He paused, his gaze complicated.

"Never mind, saying that is useless."

"Do you still have any contacts?" Zhou Zhengwei asked.

"Yes," the Shopkeeper nodded, "but you can't catch him anymore. We lost contact three years ago; he may be dead or may have withdrawn. In our line of work, a cut line is a cut line."

"You're in Four Nine City—do you have any other hideouts?"

"Yes," the Shopkeeper gave an address, "but it should have been seized by you long ago. Few of the people under my command could endure."

He gave a self‑deprecating smile.

"Including me."

Zhou Zhengwei stopped writing and looked at him.

"The final question. Why did you hide in the Steel Rolling Mill?"

The Shopkeeper fell silent even longer.

The cigarette burned out at his fingertip, scorching his finger, before he abruptly threw it away.

"Because I wanted to see what Li Ping'an truly is," he raised his head, something burning in his eyes, "I want to know who forced me to this point."

"And then?"

"And then?" the Shopkeeper laughed wryly, "Then I fell. I thought the darkness under the lamp was safest, but he was smarter than I imagined."

Zhou Zhengwei closed the notebook.

"That's all for tonight. Think carefully about what else you have to disclose. We'll continue tomorrow."

He stood up, signaling the guard to take the Shopkeeper away.

As they reached the doorway, the Shopkeeper suddenly turned back.

"Zhou Zhengwei."

"Hm?"

"Tell Li Ping'an I didn't lose to him; I lost to the times."

After speaking, he turned and left.

His steps were a bit unsteady, but his back stayed perfectly straight.

Zhou Zhengwei watched his silhouette vanish at the end of the corridor and let out a long sigh.

That stubborn hard bone was finally beginning to loosen.

That same evening, smoke rose from the Siheyuan.

Xu Damao hobbled into the Central Courtyard, carrying a bulging briefcase.

A smile hung on his face, but beneath it hid a calculating glint.

Yi Zhonghai was sitting on his doorstep, smoking an economy cigarette.

When he saw Xu Damao, he nodded.

"Damao, off work?"

"Off work, First Elder," Xu Damao walked over, squatted beside him, and asked, "Want a cigarette?"

He pulled out a pack of big front gate cigarettes, took one out and handed it over.

Yi Zhonghai was startled for a moment.

Big front gate cigarettes were far more expensive than his economy ones.

"Hey, big front gate. Damao, have you gotten rich?"

"What wealth?" Xu Damao lit his own cigarette, "I've just had smooth work lately, bought a good pack to treat myself."

The two smoked in silence for a while.

The smoke curled in the dusk.

"First Elder," Xu Damao suddenly said, "I've been looking into something and need your help."

Yi Zhonghai's heart jumped.

"What matter?"

"About you," Xu Damao turned his head, looking at him, "Matters before liberation."

Yi Zhonghai's complexion changed.

His fingers holding the cigarette trembled slightly.

"You... what do you mean?"

"Nothing in particular," Xu Damao smiled, "I was sorting the factory's historical archives and found that you worked at Zhenhua Steel Plant before liberation, right?"

"... Yes."

"But I also heard you used to frequent the Eight Great Alley back then," Xu Damao lowered his voice, "Because you went there so often, you developed a condition that left you infertile. Is that true?"

Yi Zhonghai's face turned from pale to bluish.

"Xu Damao! What nonsense are you spouting!"

"Whether I'm nonsense or not, you know it in your heart," Xu Damao took a leisurely drag, "Besides this, I uncovered something else."

He pulled an old notebook from his briefcase.

Opening it, the pages were filled with dense handwriting.

"This came from the street office archives, and I learned other aspects as well,"

Xu Damao pointed to a page, "In 1953, you teamed up with the Deaf Old Lady to force He Daqing out. What method did you use? Oh, you spread rumors that he was having affairs abroad and threatened to report that he cooked for Japanese Soldiers before liberation."

Yi Zhonghai sprang to his feet.

"You... where did you get that?!"

"Don't ask me where I got it," Xu Damao closed the notebook, "I just want to know if this is true."

Yi Zhonghai trembled all over.

The burning tip of the cigarette scalded his fingers, but he didn't notice.

"Xu Damao, what exactly do you want?"

"Nothing in particular," Xu Damao also stood, dusted the soil from his buttocks, "I just want to discuss something with you."

He leaned close to Yi Zhonghai, his voice even lower.

"You see, you're old now, the First Elder position in this Siheyuan should be yielded. As for me, I'm a model of public security and a notable figure in the factory. If you back me as First Elder, I'll pretend I never knew about these matters."

Yi Zhonghai glared at him, his eyes nearly spitting fire.

"You want to threaten me?"

"How could I?" Xu Damao smiled falsely, "I'm doing this for your own good. Think about it: if these things get out, how can you continue as First Elder? How will the neighbors view you? Better to step aside voluntarily, with dignity."

He paused briefly.

"Moreover, have you forgotten the Deaf Old Lady incident? She was an agent; even though she's dead, you were that close to her... If this is probed deeply, do you think you can escape responsibility?"

The words struck Yi Zhonghai's heart like a heavy hammer.

He staggered back a step, leaning against the doorframe.

His complexion was as white as paper.

Xu Damao watched his reaction, his heart blooming with joy.

Yet his face still wore a sincere expression.

"First Elder, think it over carefully. I won't force you; just give me an answer by tomorrow night."

He patted Yi Zhonghai's shoulder and turned to leave.

The limping silhouette looked especially smug in the twilight.

Yi Zhonghai watched his silhouette disappear behind the Moon Gate, felt his strength drained, and slid down to sit along the doorframe.

The cigarette in his hand had long gone out.

Yet he kept mechanically bringing it to his mouth.

He only threw it away when it burned his lips.

Dusk closed in on all sides.

Inside the Siheyuan, the lamps of each household lit up one after another.

In the Central Courtyard, Yi Zhonghai was still sitting on the threshold, motionless.

Like a statue.

In the Front Courtyard, Yan Bu Gui was watering the flowers, humming an off‑key tune.

In the Back Courtyard, Liu Haizhong was disciplining his son, his voice booming.

In the Xi Kua Yuan, Li Ping'an's family was having a meal, occasional children's laughter drifting out.

Everything seemed perfectly normal.

But Yi Zhonghai knew that some things had already changed.

Xu Damao, the Poison Snake, finally showed its fangs.

And he became the first target.

The night wind swept through the courtyard, bringing the chill of late autumn.

Yi Zhonghai shivered.

He slowly rose, dragging his heavy steps into the house.

The door closed.

The light stayed off.

In the darkness, he sat on a chair, watching the night outside the window.

In his mind was Xu Damao's smug face.

And the past he thought he had buried.

Eight Great Alleyways…

Deaf Old Lady…

He Daqing…

Scene after scene, like ghosts, crawled out from the depths of his memory.

He closed his eyes.

A single murky tear slid down from the corner of his eye.

He was old.

Really old.

Even someone like Xu Damao dared to ride on his head.

But…

What could he do?

Those matters were real.

What Xu Damao uncovered was also real.

If it really blew up, where would his old face end up?

Could the First Elder still keep his position?

More importantly, the fact that Deaf Old Lady was a spy…

He didn't know, but after all he was close to her.

If pressed, he'd be all mouth and could't explain.

Yi Zhonghai opened his eyes, his gaze hollow.

He knew he had no choice.

Xu Damao's strike was too precise.

It hit his soft ribs.

Outside the window, the night grew darker.

From afar came a faint dog bark.

Yi Zhonghai slowly rose, walked to the cabinet, and opened a drawer.

Inside lay his dry snuff pouch.

He hadn't smoked from it in a long time.

He took it out, rubbing the smooth bamboo rod.

It was a gift from Deaf Old Lady back then.

Now that he thinks of it, perhaps she was already scheming then.

But he knew nothing.

He still thought he had met a good person.

Yi Zhonghai gave a wry smile.

He placed the snuff pouch back into the drawer and closed it.

He turned, walked to the bedside, and lay down in his clothes.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow he must give Xu Damao a reply.

But in his heart he already had an answer.

The sky over this Siheyuan was about to change.

And Yi Zhonghai was destined to be the one drenched by rain.

Night gently enveloped the courtyard.

It also coldly covered the calculations and struggles deep in people's hearts.