Chapter 98: Alone Into the Tiger's Lair

At first light, Li Ping'an quickly got himself ready. Political Commissar Zhou Zhengwei rubbed his eyes as he chased out of the house, his shoes not even on properly.

"Ping'an! Don't be rash!" the commissar grabbed him, "Shenyang now is like an iron bucket; going alone would be a death sentence."

Li Ping'an tightened his belt and checked the gun slung at his waist. "Political Commissar, there are many people and big targets. My life is still firm; the Little Devils can't take me."

Er Gazi heard the news and ran over, his eyes rimmed red: "Instructor, take me with you! I can scout for you!"

Li Ping'an smiled, ruffling Er Gazi's hair: "You kid, first master your shooting before anything else. When I check later, if you've regressed, you'll do two hundred push‑ups as punishment."

Changing into a half‑worn gray long robe and a black top hat, Li Ping'an looked at his reflection in a water jar. He smeared some earth on his face and instantly looked like a traveling merchant.

"It really does look that way," Zhou Zhengwei shook his head helplessly, handing over a Small Cloth Bag, "This contains the Contact Point and the code, be extremely careful."

The mountain path was rough, yet Li Ping'an moved swiftly. Dew dampened his trouser cuffs, reminding him of the times he took Pingle up the hill to gather firewood as a child. The little girl would always tug his hem, shyly calling, "Brother, wait for me."

He shook his head, shaking off those thoughts. Now was not the time to be distracted.

The walls of Shenyang gradually came into view. Japanese soldiers' sentinels paced the ramparts, and at the city gate a checkpoint was set up, with civilians lining up in long queues for inspection.

Li Ping'an noticed a small door in the corner, where a few vegetable farmers were entering. He grabbed a broken basket, mimicked the farmers' stooped backs, and slipped into the crowd.

"Stop! What are you doing?" a Pseudo Army soldier blocked him.

Li Ping'an spoke in a thick Henan accent: "Boss, I'm here to sell vegetables in the city." He mispronounced "sell" as "ma", sounding like a true country bumpkin.

The Pseudo Army gave him a few looks and was about to let him pass when a Japanese soldier suddenly approached. Li Ping'an's heart lurched; he recognized him as the man he had seen at the city gate yesterday.

The Japanese soldier stared at him for a moment, then actually waved his hand and let him go.

Li Ping'an exhaled, his palms drenched in sweat.

Shenyang was desolate. Pedestrians hurried along the streets, and the Japanese patrol squad's leather boots clack clack on the stone slabs. Everywhere were "Sino‑Japanese Friendship" slogans, making people's hearts feel choked.

At a crossroads, cries and wails suddenly erupted. A grain shop had been stormed by Japanese soldiers, and the shopkeeper's pleading cries were heartbreaking.

Li Ping'an clenched his fists then released them. He could not act rashly now.

At that moment, a little girl ran out of the shop, nearly crashing into his arms. Her tear‑filled, big eyes made his heart skip a beat.

So much like Pingle.

The woman hurriedly chased out, scooped up the girl and retreated back into the shop. Li Ping'an stood rooted to the spot, as if frozen.

He took a deep breath and kept moving forward.

The Yue Lai Inn was just ahead. Li Ping'an didn't go straight in; he first sat at the tea house opposite, ordered a pot of tea and sipped it slowly.

When the pot of tea was empty, the inn seemed unremarkable. As he was about to stand, he suddenly saw two Black Dogs (Pseudo Police) walking toward the inn, setting up a checkpoint at the door for inspection.

What a close call! The Contact Point was exposed.

Li Ping'an breathed a silent sigh of relief, and as he was about to leave, the tea house owner came over to clear the tables.

"Patron, you should leave quickly; martial law is in effect today, and the city gates will be closed soon."

Li Ping'an felt a knot in his chest. He needed to find a place to take shelter quickly.

As dusk deepened, Japanese patrols grew more frequent. Li Ping'an slipped into a doorway, worrying, when a voice of an old woman came from behind.

"Young man, the sky's almost dark, why are you still wandering out there?"

Li Ping'an turned and saw an old woman holding an oil lamp, her eyes unusually bright.

The old woman lowered her voice: "'Mountain High Road Far', looking for a place to stay?"

Li Ping'an's mind sparked; he replied with the code: "'Water Deep People Many', seeking some quiet."

The old woman nodded, led him through winding alleys, and finally stopped before a small courtyard. After a few knocks, a man opened the door, eyeing Li Ping'an warily.

When the code matched, the man grasped his hand excitedly: "You're Instructor Li? Political Commissar Zhou sent a telegram early! Something happened at the Yue Lai Inn; we've been worried about you!"

It turned out the man was Zhao Zhigang, the underground party leader. The old woman was his mother, who kept watch outside.

On the wall inside hung a detailed map of Shenyang's defenses, annotated densely.

"The Japanese have been moving troops frequently lately; they must be planning something big," Zhao Zhigang said, pointing at the map, "The north of the city suddenly received reinforcements, which is very abnormal."

Just as he spoke, urgent knocking sounded from outside. A young boy rushed in: "Uncle Zhao, the Japanese have begun house‑to‑house searches!"

Zhao Zhigang quickly moved a corner cabinet, revealing a Secret Door: "Instructor Li, go down quickly! At the second fork, turn left; there's a Secret Room. Don't make a sound!"

Li Ping'an slipped inside, and the Secret Door shut behind him. Above, the sounds of rummaging boxes and Japanese shouts echoed. The search continued for a while before it finally ceased.

He didn't rush out; indeed, half an hour later the Japanese fired a cavalry pistol again.

After it was completely safe, Zhao Zhigang opened the Secret Door, still shaken: "That was close! There's a city‑wide sweep tonight; they must be after you."

Li Ping'an paused briefly: "We need to find a way to learn the Japanese movements. Can we get a set of Japanese uniforms?"

Zhao Zhigang widened his eyes: "Too dangerous!"

"The most dangerous places are the safest," Li Ping'an said firmly, "They search for Chinese; I will disguise myself as a Japanese."

At daybreak, Zhao Zhigang actually managed to obtain a Lieutenant's uniform and documents.

"It came from a Team Captain; that guy is drunk right now," Zhao Zhigang handed over the documents, "Zhu Nei Haoer, of the th Regiment. All the data is here; study it quickly."

Li Ping'an changed into the uniform, lowered his hat brim, hunched his back, and instantly became a different person.

In the morning light, he stepped out of the alley. The Japanese patrol squad saw his officer's uniform and saluted in unison. He gave a slight nod, saying little.

The farther north he went, the more checkpoints appeared. The first few passes went smoothly, but the last one stopped him.

"Lieutenant Zhu, please show your Special Pass."

Li Ping'an's heart sank; Zhao Zhigang hadn't mentioned this. As he was pondering how to handle it, a sedan pulled up, the window rolled down, revealing a Japanese Colonel's face.

"What's going on?"

After hearing the soldier's report, the Colonel examined Li Ping'an: "I know all the staff of the th Regiment; why haven't I seen you before?"

Li Ping'an's palms sweated as he prepared to force his way, when a huge bang rang out from afar!

The successive explosions shook the ground.

"Arsenal direction!" the soldier shouted.

The Colonel couldn't bother with Li Ping'an any longer, leapt into the car and sped toward the blast. Li Ping'an seized the chance, slipped into an alley, shed his uniform jacket, and reverted to civilian attire.

Chaos reigned outside the alley. Li Ping'an was about to leave when he suddenly bumped into someone at the corner.

Both froze for a moment—it was that Japanese soldier! But now he was wearing civilian clothes and holding something that looked like a detonator.

Their eyes met, and in an instant they both understood.

Li Ping'an grabbed him and pulled him into the ruined house: "Don't make a sound! Which unit are you from?"

He broke free, eyeing him warily: "You speak first!"

"Flying Eagle Team, Li Ping'an."

His eyes lit up: "Underground Party, codename Nightingale! Was that explosion just now your doing?"

"I thought it was you."

They stared at each other—there was a third force at work!

The sounds of the search drew nearer. Nightingale urged: "Follow me, there's a secret passage out of the city!"

After winding through seven turns and eight twists, they slipped into a deserted courtyard. Nightingale moved aside the debris, revealing a tunnel entrance.

"Left behind by the Boxer Rebellion Group years ago, it leads straight out of the city."

Inside the tunnel, Li Ping'an finally voiced his doubt: "Who exactly are you?"

Nightingale gave a wry smile: "I'm of mixed Japanese-Chinese blood. My mother is Japanese, my father Chinese. I use this identity to gather intelligence."

Li Ping'an felt a surge of respect.

Upon exiting the tunnel, Nightingale clasped his hands in farewell: "Tell Political Commissar Zhou Zhengwei that Nightingale sends his regards. Take care!"

Having said that, he turned and vanished into the woods, as if he had never appeared.

Li Ping'an stood there, unable to calm himself for a long time. Though this trip to Shenyang had been fraught with danger, he had at last figured out the Japanese military's movements and even made a comrade like Nightingale.

Gazing at the smoke rising from the direction of Shenyang, he knew this struggle was far more complex than he had imagined—but also more hopeful.

Turning to head into the forest, his steps grew firmer.

The road was still long, but he was no longer alone.