Chapter 659: Something

The moon on the fourth day of the lunar month was a crescent, a faint mark hanging high in the sky like the lightly painted eyebrow of a woman. Of course, that woman would have to be beautiful; otherwise, no matter how fine the eyebrow, it wouldn't possess much aesthetic appeal.

It was already the latter half of the night, and the crescent moon was no longer visible. In the dim darkness, lit only by the occasional glow of streetlamps, a truck and a sedan pulled up one after the other, reversing into a small alley on Daxi Road.

No one cared about the disgruntled shouting coming from the houses. A group of seven or eight people climbed out of the vehicles and proceeded in silence, walking briskly close to the walls. Some wore long gowns, others coarse linen, some wore decent-quality Western suits, and others wore short martial arts attire. They all wore fedoras with the brims pulled low, covering everything above their noses, making their faces impossible to discern.

About ten minutes later, the leader stopped. Once the last person in the group caught up, he pointed to a shop across the street and said, "This Hesheng Firm is the former Anhe Firm. The Japanese agents are monitoring from the third floor inside that entrance. There are two of them, and two more are watching the back door."

Wang Yan nodded without a word and took the lead. The others followed automatically. Upon reaching the entrance, two men stayed at the door to keep watch, while the remaining four followed Wang Yan, stepping up the stairs one by one until they reached the third floor.

He took lock-picking tools from his space, produced some lubricant, and applied it to the hinges. He then calmly tucked the tools away and, amidst the suppressed breathing of the group, poked at the door lock twice. With a *click*, the door opened.

Although he had applied lubricant, the time was too short for it to soak in, and Wang Yan still made a slight noise while gently opening the door. Unfortunately for them, the people inside were dozing off and didn't hear a thing.

It was a two-room apartment, north and south. One man was sitting by the windowsill on watch, his head nodding heavily, while the other was sleeping comfortably on the bed inside. Perhaps the man on watch was too exhausted to rotate shifts.

Wang Yan gestured for the others to follow. He walked quietly behind the man slumped by the window. Without any visible effort, he reached out and pinched and pressed a few points on the man's neck and lower back. The man turned into a pile of mush, completely unconscious.

Ignoring the astonishment of the four men who had followed him in, Wang Yan turned and entered the bedroom. He grabbed the sleeping Japanese agent by the neck, lifted him off the bed, and repeated the previous operation, rendering him unconscious as well.

Only then did the group breathe a sigh of relief. They skillfully produced ropes, bound the hands and feet of the two Japanese agents, and asked curiously, "How did you do that?"

"Know the human body's acupoints and meridians, and have a bit more strength in your hands."

Wang Yan said nothing more. This was his purpose in coming along: to resolve the problem silently. Although the Japanese would certainly receive word, the later, the better.

When Lu Boda was vetting whether Song Xiwen had been captured, he must have been extremely careful, likely finding other excuses, such as a telegram from Zhejiang. They were all veteran revolutionaries; their operational security was impeccable, and Wang Yan was not worried about this. Unless Lu Boda or Liu Qiulan were captured, there was no risk of exposure. As for these men here, they were temporary reinforcements who didn't even know that the person beside them was the renowned Pei Min.

Four days had passed, which was already a slow reaction time. By now, his suspicions had been well cleared, and he could proceed with proper work. Song Xiwen was in charge of the transport lines and was a high-ranking member of the Shanghai underground organization. According to later administrative divisions and official ranks, that was a vice-ministerial level existence. Such a figure could not be ignored, nor would his superiors allow him to be abandoned; that would be unrealistic.

Wang Yan lit a cigarette, watching them work to tie up the Japanese agents securely. After two men carried one out, headed straight downstairs, and left, he gently closed the door and went downstairs to wait beside the Hesheng Firm across the street.

Before long, the sedan and truck from earlier drove to a spot nearby and reversed into the alley again. The six men got out once more and took Wang Yan to the Japanese agents monitoring the back door.

Including Wang Yan, there were nine people on this trip. Wang Yan was responsible for the action, two for driving, two for keeping watch, and four for transporting the unconscious agents. The division of labor was clear, the actions disciplined; they were all capable hands.

As expected, although the two monitoring the back door were more alert, they couldn't fire their guns, shout, or knock anything over. Wang Yan knocked them out cleanly, and they threw these two agents into the truck as well.

At the same time, someone went to knock on the door of the Hesheng Firm to make contact and tell them to pack up and evacuate immediately, causing a sudden flurry of chaos.

Wang Yan didn't pay any more attention; he grabbed a bicycle and pedaled away hard.

It was already November. Although the grass had long since turned yellow, the leaves had drifted away, and autumn had set in, making the dawn late, the long period of turmoil meant the distant horizon was already showing signs of light. Unfortunately, dark clouds gathered in the sky at some unknown moment, and Shanghai, which had just begun to brighten, turned dark once again.

By the time Wang Yan tossed and turned, finished removing his makeup and changing his clothes at the safe house, and returned to the Wang Tianyue Gongguan, a rumble of thunder sounded from the edge of the sky. The lightning that followed illuminated the spacious master bedroom. He held Yu Manli, who had subconsciously snuggled into his arms in her deep sleep, tucked the quilt around her, and fell asleep...

Today, Wang Yan did not get up early because a heavy rain had already begun to fall from the sky. In such weather, he usually slept in.

He did not wake up until Yu Manli lazily stirred and stretched contentedly after a long sleep.

"Hmm?" Yu Manli looked at Wang Yan beside her in confusion. "Did I wake up too early, or did you wake up too late?"

Wang Yan pursed his lips toward the window. "It's raining heavily."

"Raining again. That's the one thing I don't like about Shanghai—it's always raining. It's damp, cold, and very uncomfortable; it's the easiest way to get sick. I don't even know how those homeless beggars survive."

Wang Yan, who was getting up to put on his clothes, laughed. "Have you been attending too many study society gatherings lately? Showing pity for homeless beggars and worrying about how they survive—this isn't your style."

"Don't you also think the Red Party will be able to grow stronger in the future? I'm learning how to play both sides from you, establishing connections first to leave myself a way out later. Is that not allowed?" Yu Manli yawned and stretched again, looking completely nonchalant.

"You can say that to me, but don't say it in front of Wang Tianfeng; he really might execute you. Although you approached me with an agenda, I am a man who cherishes beauty; it would be a terrible waste to lose your life so easily. If you really have been 'Red-ified' and have the heart to defect to the Communists, then keep your wits about you."

Wang Yan buttoned his shirt, walked to the window, pulled back the curtain, and watched the heavy rain outside. "The comfort around me and the prosperity of the Shanghai Bund have made you lose the vigilance a secret agent should have. Be careful; it's all just passing smoke and clouds—don't let the glitz dazzle your eyes."

Seeing him standing with his hands behind his back, his posture upright as he watched the rain, and hearing his pretentious tone, Yu Manli rolled her eyes. She sat up in one motion, not caring that the quilt slipped away to reveal her charms. "Many thanks for your kind reminder, but I don't need you, Chief Inspector Wang, to worry about me. Let's go; I haven't been to 'Hao Zailai' in days, let's go eat there. Oh, right, it's raining heavily today, so I'll have to trouble you to take me back."

Wang Yan nodded with a smile and strolled off to wash up.

Whether it was Wang Wang Manchun or Yu Manli, or even Dai Yunong seizing his power earlier, he had reported everything beforehand. He was executing his mission alone, so his reports had to be detailed to confirm he had not defected or shown any tendency to defect. As a celebrity tycoon of the Shanghai Bund, especially as a player in the Green Gang with significant business dealings with the Soviet Area, his information would be collected by the Shanghai underground party members, and everything had to be cross-verified.

Wang Wang Manchun was a lost cause, but Yu Manli was tragic by nature and held a job as a Chinese literature teacher; if someone with an agenda tried to contact and develop her, she wouldn't be able to resist. The people becoming the masters of their own house...

This day, Wang Yan didn't do anything of real importance, nor did he have any real business to attend to. He just sat in his car, checking the warehouses and then the factories. Since they hadn't been open for long, he inspected the construction quality and checked for leaks in the factory buildings. As for performance, he basically knew everything he needed to know after asking a couple of questions. The bank's work was expanding steadily, he couldn't get his hands into the Green League, and the secret operation to "steal the house" was underway—everything was going well.

It was during these trips back and forth, watching the Shanghai Bund in the rain through the window, that he pondered the matter of Song Xiwen and wondered where Song Xiwen could be.

That the person was still alive was certain, because Wang Wang Manchun's excitement couldn't be faked; he just didn't know where the person was.

It was certain that the Japanese spies would make a big deal out of this. Striking the Shanghai underground party organization and capturing Pei Min were all in the Japanese plan. Song Xiwen was seriously injured, and today was already the fifth day. The Japanese must have known about last night's operation, which proved to them that the Red Party had already realized something had happened to Song Xiwen. They would certainly begin to arrange for everyone, stations, and organizations related to Song Xiwen to transfer and mobilize, carrying out a massive adjustment.

If Song Xiwen did not open his mouth within three days, and the Japanese still did not reveal any relevant news about him, then Song Xiwen would lose the vast majority of his value. The only things he could reveal would be the structure of the Shanghai underground party organization, its personnel composition, and some situations in the Soviet Area, or the situations of other comrades behind enemy lines whom he knew—none of which would be of much help to the situation in Shanghai.

Therefore, the Japanese would definitely take action in these two days, rather than just the arrangement of transferring him from the Army Hospital to the Nanhua Hospital as they had done before.

Waiting is the most agonizing thing, especially in this kind of struggle on the hidden front where every second counts.

Wang Yan felt fine, even though he was facing unknown dangers.

Night fell once again. The heavy rain that had fallen all day had turned into a light drizzle. Because the sky was dim and the weather damp and cold, making people uncomfortable, Qi Si practiced his boxing early and went to sleep exhausted. The old couple went to bed even earlier; they were already lying down by eight o'clock.

By nearly ten o'clock, Wang Yan once again slipped out of the Wang Tianyue Gongguan, changed his clothes and appearance, took his car, refueled it at the place where he stored gasoline, and, carrying the credentials of a Special Higher Course agent who hadn't even left ashes behind, entered Hongkou. He arrived openly at the apartment building on Dixwell Road and climbed up the stairs, step by step.

Here, he had already prepared the credentials for access to the Army Hospital and Nanhua Hospital, a doctor's white coat, and the information of two different doctors from the hospitals.

The Nanhua Hospital doctor's name was Ozawa Yoshio. Wearing black-rimmed glasses, his eyes were not very spirited; he looked like a typical "transparent" person who was bullied in the workplace. He was in the inpatient department and often worked the night shift.

In addition, there was a photograph of the Nanhua Hospital doctor list, which was quite detailed—it was clear it had been obtained by sneaking into the archives. He flipped through it roughly to get an idea. Afterward, he began to use his makeup kit to transform himself into the likeness of Ozawa Yoshio.

After a while, he put away his things, picked up the black-rimmed glasses that the Shanghai party organization had prepared, put them on, and looked in the mirror. Very good, not like...

However, if one wasn't paying attention, at first glance, it was still very similar. This was due to some facial features and the "bullied" look that Wang Yan, a professional actor, had adopted.

As long as the first glance passed, he could ensure that for the second glance, he would be standing with his back to the light so his face couldn't be seen clearly, thus achieving the deception. His current disguise, after this short period of exploration, had reached a level-two standard, which was more than enough.

Putting away the white coat and other materials, Wang Yan put on a fedora, took an umbrella, opened the window, and climbed directly down from the sixth floor—or rather, dropped down. Using his powerful upper-body strength, just like in the movies, he dropped from one windowsill to the next. He left from another direction and headed toward Matsui Road.

Dixwell Road was not far from the Nanhua Hospital on Matsui Road, but he did not go there immediately. Out of safety considerations, he scouted the surrounding area. No problems!

Finding an empty spot, he climbed into the hospital, put on the white coat, buttoned it up, walked around to find the inpatient building, appeared at the entrance, and walked inside openly, closing his umbrella.

"Stop, take out your credentials."

Seeing Wang Yan about to walk inside, a doctor wearing a white coat at the entrance walked over and blocked him unceremoniously.

"Hai." Wang Yan hurriedly stepped forward, turning his body to avoid the light, and took his work ID out of his pocket.

He appeared humble on the surface, but inside, he was thinking about this abnormal situation. Because the news Lu Boda had passed back last night was only that the third floor was off-limits; it hadn't said that one needed to show credentials just to enter the inpatient building. The situation had changed.

Moreover, this little Japanese man blocking him didn't behave like a doctor at all; he looked more like a trained soldier. Yes, a soldier.

When they exchanged credentials, Wang Yan's hand touched the Japanese man's hand—it was very rough. Such hands should not belong to a doctor wearing a white coat.

He recalled the process of climbing into the hospital in his mind, carefully confirming whether there were any loopholes...

"Ozawa-kun, did you not receive the notification?"

"Of course not, it's just because it's raining today, and I accidentally got a bit wet. My body has been weak since I was a child, and I get sick easily. After returning home, I felt a bit unwell, so I wanted to come back to get some cold medicine."

"Weak body?" The little Japanese man who was questioning him widened his eyes and looked up at Wang Yan. "Ozawa-kun, are you joking with me? We are not as tall as the Chinese; your height is rare among Japanese, yet you say your body is weak?"

When pretending to be Japanese, the height issue had to be resolved. He had pretended to be a Special Higher Course agent while sitting in a car. Now that he was breaking into an enemy camp, he naturally had to be careful about this most basic point. Those in intelligence were never bad at this.

Wang Yan pushed up his glasses and said with a wry smile, "Perhaps it's because of a genetic mutation; being weak is the price for growing tall. Look at how thin I am."

"Hmm, it's very likely a genetic mutation." The short little Japanese man's eyes revealed confusion, but his tone was firm. Just as he was about to continue speaking, another Japanese man walked over from the distance.

"Hiroki, what's the situation?"

"Ah, Captain, nothing. It's Ozawa-kun; he got wet in the rain and is feeling unwell, so he wants to come back to get some medicine." The Japanese man who had been questioning him replied, bowing and scraping.

The captain came up close, stared at Wang Yan, who was carefully accompanying him with a smile, for a few moments, took the credentials from the Japanese man called Hiroki, closed them, and slapped them onto Wang Yan's chest. "No one is allowed to enter this building. Sorry, Ozawa-kun, please go to the front building to get your medicine."

Wang Yan caught the credentials, stumbled back two steps, coughed twice, and asked carefully, "Really... alright, I'll go to the front building. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

He wanted to argue a bit more, but seeing the dangerous look in the eyes of the man called Captain, he shivered, bowed to the Japanese, tucked the credentials into his pocket, turned around, and left while coughing and holding his umbrella.

Watching Wang Yan's back, the captain asked, "Are you sure this person exists?"

"Yes, Captain, the list is right here; I've been looking at it the whole time. I also asked them, and they all said this Ozawa Yoshio is very careful, even very polite to the Chinese; he's a pushover. He's from Kanto, and you heard his accent just now—it absolutely can't be wrong." Hiroki turned and ran to the side, picked up a stack of materials, and found the file with the name Ozawa Yoshio written on it.

The captain took it, glanced at it, and nodded. "You did well, Koji. Keep up the good work; I'll remember it."

Koji took the file materials, stood straight, and was fooled by the words his superior had said offhandedly...

The captain laughed at the fool in his heart, turned his head to look at the back that was slowly moving forward in the light rain with an umbrella, and turned to leave...

Soldiers again, a captain again—the situation was completely different from what Lu Boda had said. The problem was that he had heard yesterday that Song Xiwen might be at Nanhua Hospital, he had only obtained the Nanhua Hospital materials during the day, and when he came over at night, the situation had changed. What did this mean?

It meant that the person who stole the list in the hospital had likely already been exposed.

This list was necessary, and also unnecessary. It could be used to deal with the people in the hospital and screen Wang Yan's fake identity—that was necessary. It could be used to improvise and leave one's life to fate—that was unnecessary.

Perhaps it was to protect his safety that they had taken the risk to steal the hospital doctor directory from the archives. After all, his importance was no less than Song Xiwen's.

Wang Yan did not give up. He went to the front building, found someone to get cold medicine, then walked out of the hospital gate normally, took off his white coat and put it away, circled around, and returned to the wall behind the inpatient building.

This time he did not climb over the wall, because he felt a gaze from above...