Chapter 627

"Comrade Pei Min, why are you here at this time?"

In the study lit only by a small desk lamp, Lu Boda frowned at the shadow behind the light.

"I was uneasy, so I came to check on how the comrades we rescued are doing. Also, we never set a new contact code, and due to our limited capabilities, many escaped comrades are still out there needing rescue—I know this will cost a lot. I brought fifty thousand U. S. dollars; it should last a while. As for the thugs and spies outside, no concern—I killed five on my way here."

Outside, it's chaos now—Japanese spies, traitors, and Qingbang thugs all roam the streets; every gathering spot for vagrants and beggars has been turned upside down, leaving no room for escapees to catch their breath.

Wang Yan, of course, isn't afraid—he still has his Japanese documents. Anyone who suspects him and stops him just needs to see the ID. If they're Japanese, he mutters curses; if Chinese, he slaps them hard. In crowds, he bluffs; alone, he kills. He says he killed five—all Japanese spies, just like that.

As for those petty thugs, he has no interest in dealing with them. Mainly because their loyalties can't be confirmed—there are too many of them, some seeking money, some power, some survival; some might genuinely work, some might fake it, and many may already be recruited by either party. So you can't touch them—just slap them a couple times and be done.

"You're fearless because your skills are high. This time you've done a great service—the entire Shanghai party organization and the JS Provincial Committee owe you thanks. Without your warning, we might have been wiped out. During the operation, you were the first to enter and break the deadlock—alone, with one gun, you held off five hundred Japanese troops for half an hour, giving our guerrillas ample time to retreat. But still, be careful. The situation is extremely tense right now."

Lu Boda took the leather pouch filled with cash. His smile vanished instantly—he sighed: "Don't worry. The operation succeeded. The rescued comrades have already retreated with the guerrillas to the Taihu base. Once they've rested and regained their strength, they'll return to the organization through our secret communication lines. The comrades still out in the open are faring poorly—many have been captured since yesterday. We've rescued some, but the streets are full of Japanese spies—we dare not make large moves."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about," Wang Yan nodded. "Releasing everyone at once has made it easier for the Japanese to act—they'll definitely send out agents to mingle. After this operation, Shanghai's situation is extremely chaotic. We can't carefully screen people, making it easy for Japanese spies to infiltrate our ranks. So when rescuing comrades, be extra cautious. Also, a friend in the police force told me—the International Settlement and the French Concession have reached an agreement: as long as the Japanese don't go too far, they won't act at all. They'll only help collect bodies."

"But there's good news—this Japanese lockdown won't last more than two more days. These two days are the most dangerous. Once they're over, things will be much easier."

"We've already considered your concerns, so we acted with extreme caution. Don't worry."

"Good. Knowing there are no problems, I can sleep peacefully. Next time, still look for people in the Fenbao newspaper—Liu Qiniang's maternal uncle is coming, wait at Shunhe Inn by the dock. If you're desperate and can't wait for printing, then… during the noon broadcast, same message—I'll listen every day."

Lu Boda nodded: "Be careful on your way back."

Wang Yan waved his hand, stood up decisively, nodded to Liu Qiulan on guard at the door, opened it cautiously, glanced left and right, confirmed no one was around, then swiftly slipped away.

Walking openly down the street, slapping petty thugs who dared to bother him, casually killing a few Japanese spies, returning home to tidy up, then lying on a soft, comfortable bed to sleep soundly…

The next day, when Wang Yan arrived at the police station, Wang Yongkui, who had been waiting there, used all his strength to shove aside those trying to flatter him, hurried over, and opened the back door.

"Chief, good morning!"

"You too," Wang Yan patted his shoulder warmly, waved to the others: "Brothers, you've worked hard. Did you pass on my message from yesterday?"

Wang Yongkui nodded quickly: "I told them all. The brothers are grateful to you."

"Doing your jobs well is thanks enough. Now, I saw Japanese arresting people on the street when I came in—why are you still sitting in the station? Get out there! Watch the Japanese—don't let them get too bold."

Watching the group vanish, Wang Yan pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Wang Yongkui lit one for him, then Wang Yan slapped the rest onto his chest: "How's it going? Any developments last night?"

"Yes!" Wang Yongkui glanced nervously left and right, confirmed no one was listening, then whispered: "Last night, one of our guys spotted a suspicious person. But since you told us not to meddle, we didn't act. But he told Fang Yuantu about it. I saw Fang make a call at a roadside phone booth. Soon after, Japanese troops showed up and arrested all those people."

"Then what? What did he say?"

"We all gathered outside watching as the Japanese arrested them. Saw them fight desperately, then get beaten to death. He said you were right—Japanese, Nationalists, Communists—all dangerous. We should be careful."

Wang Yan smiled: "Dare you confront him?"

"Dare!"

"Good! I didn't misjudge you." Wang Yan patted his shoulder approvingly. "Today, you don't go anywhere. Stay in the station. If I need you, I'll send someone. Go."

"Yes, Chief!" Wang Yongkui saluted properly, then turned and marched into the station with a spring in his step.

Wang Yan waved to Qi Si, who was wiping the car: "Go, bring back all three team leaders. Have them come to my office."

"Yes, Yan Ge," Qi Si mimicked Wang Yongkui's salute with a grin, then dashed into the station. Those kept on standby always knew where the team leaders were—just call.

Wang Yan returned to his office, poured himself a bottle of foreign liquor, had someone buy some peanuts, turned on the radio, and began drinking in the office early in the morning.

Earlier, Chen Jiangliu's inquiry into Japanese attitudes had revealed that either Fang Yuantu or Zhang Xian was working for the Japanese. Now, with Wang Yongkui bravely exposing the truth, it's almost certain to be Fang Yuantu.

His slip wasn't surprising—mainly because I'm too slippery. Though I promised cooperation with the Japanese, I've leaked almost no useful information, let alone done any real work.

This time, the Japanese lost face. Whether those prisoners were important or not, they had to be recaptured—or killed. This isn't about substance—it's about honor.

They want me to cooperate? Impossible. So they turn to my subordinates. Fang Yuantu, as team leader, has a fixed patrol area, freedom to leave post, and over twenty men under him—perfect for helping the Japanese.

At this time, I've issued strict orders, and above me are the French. Even if officers skip duty, there are limits—they can't vanish far. Patrolmen are constantly moving on the streets; seeing him meet someone is perfectly normal.

Wang Yongkui seeing Fang Yuantu meet someone once was chance; seeing it again? That's inevitability. And now's the perfect moment—killing Fang won't require elaborate schemes.

After drinking a bit, Wang Yan picked up the phone and dialed Shi Changxing: "It's me. Take your men to Mengqi Road… that's Fang Yuantu's home. Take his wife and children into custody. Search every inch of the house. Leave no trace. Report back when done. Watch out for the Japanese—avoid conflict if possible. If conflict happens, don't hold back—and leave no traces."

After receiving confirmation, he hung up, sipped his liquor leisurely, and waited for his three team leaders to arrive.

Not long—only half an hour—the three returned together by car. Like most subordinates, when the boss suddenly calls a meeting, they're confused—they always try to guess what's going on, what mood the boss is in, why the sudden meeting? Having some idea helps them respond.

The three knocked on the chief's office door. Upon permission, they straightened their collars, adjusted their caps, then entered together.

As soon as they stepped in, they froze. Behind the large desk, Chief Wang was drinking golden imported liquor, munching peanuts on oiled paper, bathed in the morning sun. That wasn't odd. The odd part? The scattered parts of a Colt pistol. Chief Wang had just set down his glass, crunching peanuts loudly between his teeth, wiping the gun with a white cloth soaked in oil.

Closing the door, standing before the desk, the three stared at each other. Finally, He Shaohong, the loyalist, spoke: "Chief, what are you doing?"

"You know, I used to be famous for not fearing death, famous for being fierce. Back then, I roamed the streets, relying on sheer boldness—that's how Lin Hongyuan noticed me, took me as his disciple, gave me the 'Wu' character, and now I'm an old-timer who can open a hall, with some prestige. That same boldness, plus my late parents' love and sacrifice, got me a few years of Western schooling—I learned Chinese characters and Western languages, which got me into the police force.

With that reckless, fearless energy, I led charges, cracked cases, earned merit, climbed step by step to squad leader, deputy team leader, team leader, and now chief. But people get older, and weaker. Today, I have money and power—but I've started fearing death. If I unleashed my power in this vast Shanghai, I'd make waves. My wealth, at my current spending, would last generations. This power, this fortune—I can't afford to die.

I have no children. You've all heard the rumors—I can't have kids. I'll tell you: it's true. You see, I've got this much power, this much money I can't enjoy—how could I die? If you were me, would you dare die? Look now—this gun hasn't been used in so long, it's almost rusted. Back then, I roamed the streets with a cleaver—those blades were sharp. Now I use guns, and they rust. I smile at everyone, play the fool—everyone in Shanghai thinks I'm a kind old man, no temper."

As he spoke, Wang Yan assembled the pistol, loaded each bullet one by one, clicked the chamber shut, and pointed the barrel at the three.

The rumor about his infertility had long circulated—he'd slept with so many women, always using the "switch," yet never fathered a child. With women gossiping among themselves, his reputation spread. That's also why he never married—no one suspected him on this front.

The three trembled under the gun's muzzle, unsure what madness had seized Wang Yan, yet dared not move. Zhang Xian forced a smile, voice shaking: "Chief, be careful—you might accidentally fire! Did someone upset you? Tell me—I'll arrest them, beat them, and sink them in the Huangpu River."

Fang Yuantu quickly added: "Yes, Chief, give us orders—we'll handle it perfectly."

Wang Yan's gun turned toward him: "Fang, when I became chief, what did I tell you?"

"You said we serve the French. Don't offend the Japanese, don't associate too much with them. Don't offend the Nationalists, don't associate too much with them. Don't offend the Communists, don't associate too much with them. Only then can we survive. Even if the Japanese take the French Concession, we mustn't defect first—then, no matter how bad things get, we'll still live. The Japanese need Chinese to serve them—we'll still be police, still live well."

"Did I say that?"

Seeing the gun turn toward him, Zhang Xian snapped to attention: "Yes, Chief. Your instructions are etched in my memory. Fang's words match mine exactly."

He Shaohong watched from the side, smirking. Now he understood—Chief Wang was targeting Fang Yuantu and Zhang Xian. He'd always known this day would come. He was the only loyal one; the other two had ulterior motives. Especially Fang Yuantu—though Wang Yan was powerful back then, Fang never respected him. But Wang Yan was focused on money, left team duties to Fang, stayed low-key, ignored him.

Now that Wang Yan is chief, regardless of personal grudges, to control his men, he must deal with Fang. And now's the time.

Wang Yan smiled, pointing the gun again at Fang: "You remember clearly—then why didn't you follow it?"

Fang shook his head: "Chief, what do you mean? I don't understand."

"Think hard. After you left me yesterday, who did you meet? At night, who did you call?"

"After leaving you, I went to my patrol area and met a friend—Liu Mingjie, owner of Liu's Silk Shop. My wife's qipaos and my clothes have always been made by him. We also co-invest in fur business for extra cash. When I ran into him on patrol, we went to Ride Café for a while. He said my order was ready, asked me to pick it up, and we chatted about business. Japanese activity has been heavy lately—hurts business."

In the evening, I did make a phone call, but that call was to my wife. Because she didn't yet know the situation, she would surely have prepared dinner and be waiting for me to come home. We were on night patrol yesterday, so I called her to tell her I couldn't come home for dinner and that she shouldn't wait for me and should eat on her own.

Inspector, I don't know where you got this information, but this is a slander against me. I absolutely did not collaborate with the Japanese, let alone with both the Kuomintang and the Communist Party. Yes, I did used to be insubordinate to you and offended you many times. But I assure you, Fang Yuantu as a person has always kept things strictly separate, and absolutely obeys his superiors. If you simply find me an eyesore and want to put your own trusted man in as captain of Squad Two, then I have nothing to say!"

Fang Yuantu frowned in recollection, beginning with a hint of hesitation, then speaking more and more as he went on, until in the end he became righteous and indignant, wronged and aggrieved, his words ringing out forceful and resolute, each syllable striking the ground like a stone.

Just at that moment, the phone on the desk rang. Wang Yan set the smoking pistol aside, took a sip of wine, and while eating peanuts, picked up the phone. He grunted a few acknowledgments, then said: "Ask Mrs. Fang where Captain Fang's clothes and her qipao were made, and what the tailor's name is."

Fang Yuantu listened, his eyes going wide. He strode forward two steps in fury and slammed both hands on Wang Yan's desk: "Wang Yan, don't push it too far. You sent people to my home and kidnapped my wife and child? What are you trying to do? Being an inspector is nothing special, do you think you can hoodwink everyone? Do you really take me for soft clay... mmph mmph..."

It was because neither He Shaohong nor Zhang Xian were pushovers; in these times, anyone out on the streets knew at least a trick or two. Especially as policemen, they had entanglements with all sides, and the police uniform could not add to their authority. Especially when mixing with the lower classes, it was even more so—after all, in the end, what mattered was still one's fists.

So once the two of them reacted, they struck directly. The pair worked in perfect coordination—one seized one of Fang Yuantu's arms, then threw a heavy punch into his stomach, beating back every word he had left to say. Every time he tried to open his mouth, the two of them would guarantee one punch each, smashing it shut. Fang Yuantu was in so much pain he couldn't speak, only letting out muffled grunts as he struggled desperately...

Wang Yan watched the scene before him with a smile, listened to the reply on the phone, and then said: "Good, now that you have the address, send people over and arrest this Liu Mingjie and his entire family. Search their home carefully as well—don't leave a single inch unchecked. What? What to do with Captain Fang's wife and child? Of course, keep them under control. Along with their family's housekeeper, no one is allowed to leave. Oh right, how old is Captain Fang's child? Oh, only six years old? Then tell the brothers on the job to be careful, don't scare the child. Alright, hurry and send people to that silk and satin shop."

After hanging up the phone, Wang Yan looked at Fang Yuantu, whose eyes were about to split from rage as he struggled desperately, and said with an apologetic tone: "Captain Fang, don't blame me. Actually, what you said is right too—being an inspector is nothing special, and I know you have some ability yourself. But this time it's not about consolidating power; it's simply that what you said doesn't match what I've heard. You two, take his gun, gag his mouth—let's move somewhere else and have a proper chat..."