Chapter 673: Li Zhao Is in Our Hands

No. 76, formerly located at No. 67 Daxi Road, was the Special Operations Headquarters of the Wang Jingwei Puppet Nationalist Party Central Executive Committee, later relocated to No. 76 Jessfield Road. During its earlier period at No. 67, it operated as a special operations unit under the Japanese-backed puppet government—and so it still does today. But Wang Jingwei's stature was clearly incomparable to those who came before him, which is why No. 76 became even more deeply entrenched in people's minds.

In truth, whether during the earlier No. 67 period or now at No. 76, the persecution and crimes committed were profoundly grave.

People always act this way: once they resolve to rebel, they turn on their own kind with increasing cruelty. Because they have no retreat, they must impress their new masters, so naturally they become even more brutal.

Of course, nothing is absolute—there are those who, caught in such circumstances, have no choice but to scrape by. But compared to the entire population of traitors and second-rate Japanese collaborators, they remain a minority.

People are accustomed to punching and slashing at the weak; once they gain even a sliver of power, they stand atop others, tyrannizing them. Mr. Lu Xun said that when a slave becomes a master, he will never abandon the title of "master"—his posturing is likely even more complete, even more ridiculous than his former master's. This logic applies broadly to such matters. Petty people in times of peace are no exception.

At around two in the afternoon, after a comfortable lunch, Wang Yan arrived at No. 76's headquarters with Wang Manchun, where he met Gu Zhang Yongcheng and Shi Changxing in a conference room.

Wang Manchun was right—these two had not been mistreated.

Gu Zhang Yongcheng was fine; he was a cultured man, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, sitting upright and idly flipping through a book he must have acquired somewhere. Shi Changxing, however, slumped crookedly in his chair, legs crossed, his heavy leather boots propped on the table, a hat covering half his face, snoring loudly.

When Wang Yan entered, Gu Zhang Yongcheng immediately stood up and greeted him. Shi Changxing, awakened by the noise, groggily grabbed his hat, saw Wang Yan smiling at him, and jolted upright in alarm.

He wiped saliva from his mouth and launched into an indignant tirade: "Brother Yan, you've finally arrived! You don't know how outrageous the Japanese and No. 76 have been. Without so much as a warning, they sent over a thousand military police to surround our warehouse and search everywhere. Then they dragged us here—this isn't detention, this is slapping your face, Brother Yan! The entire warehouse is sealed, delaying our operations and causing massive losses. Who pays for this? Tens of thousands of workers, thousands of brothers—do they all starve on the wind?"

Wang Yan waved his hand: "Enough. What face do I have? You know what happened—our people turned out to be Red Party members. How could we refuse a search? Cooperate fully with Superintendent Wang's team, give a full account of Li Zhao's situation, then get out. Go back and calm everyone down. Say whatever you know—I'll wait outside. Oh, by the way."

He turned to Wang Manchun beside him: "Since I'm here already, I know Yan Zhengcai. Could I see him?"

"Of course. If you're still angry, you can even administer the punishment yourself."

"Better not. No. 76 is as porous as a sieve—I don't have the guts to torture Red Party members. If word got out, what if they come after me?"

Wang Manchun snorted, shot Wang Yan a glare, ignored him, and ordered her subordinates to take Wang Yan and the curious Qi Si to the prison inside No. 76 where anti-Japanese personnel were held.

The prison had three above-ground floors and one underground level. The lowest level was open upward to the upper floors, yet even so, conditions were terrible—thick with damp, foul odors. Outside, heavy snow fell; inside, temperatures remained low. Prisoners wore thin clothing, shivering violently from the cold.

It was under these conditions that Wang Yan found Yan Zhengcai in a cell on the lowest level: wearing a coat, his face swollen and bruised, bandages wrapped around his exposed hands and feet, the collar of his coat torn open to reveal fresh, raw wounds on his neck—clearly beaten badly.

Contrast breeds suffering: if Xia Changguo had endured like Yan Zhengcai, he wouldn't be dead—he might even be living comfortably. Of course, that's only if he hadn't opposed the Red Party.

Seeing Wang Yan stand silently with his hands behind his back outside the iron bars, Yan Zhengcai struggled to rise, pulled his mouth into a twisted smile, and rasped: "Brother Yan, I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you."

"I anticipated this trouble long ago. What I didn't expect was how deeply the Red Party had infiltrated my people—how you and Li Zhao, both high-ranking, were Red Party members. How foolish! Work quietly for me, receive your salary and benefits every month—why get involved in so much?"

"I won't be involved anymore—I'm a traitor now." Yan Zhengcai shook his head with a bitter laugh: "Brother Yan, what's happening with Li Zhao?"

"If anything were happening, wouldn't you hear it here?" Wang Yan glared at him irritably: "He escaped. Japanese military police surrounded the warehouse and are conducting a full search. All employees are being screened. They even brought Gu Zhang Yongcheng and Shi Changxing here to assist. Do you know how much damage this has caused me?"

Hearing that Li Zhao had escaped, Yan Zhengcai exhaled in relief and let out a harsh, grating laugh: "That's beyond my control now."

He had done his best. Though those few hours might not have been enough for Li Zhao to flee completely, as long as he wasn't captured immediately, his chances of safe escape increased infinitely—he still had hope.

Just as Wang Yan was about to speak further, Li Shiqun hurried over, followed by Ming Lou and Ming Cheng.

"Oh my, Mr. Wang, how terribly rude of us—my sincerest apologies." Li Shiqun reached Wang Yan's side, wiped nonexistent sweat from his forehead, and panted as he spoke.

Ming Lou, one step behind, added: "Indeed, Mr. Wang. We never intended to disturb you, but your men are too loyal—we had no choice but to trouble you to come all this way through the snow."

Wang Yan shook his head, sighing helplessly: "What can I do? They're my men. When something like this happens, I can't escape responsibility for poor supervision. But Directors Li and Ming, rest assured—I will fully cooperate. Just understand me: I do business with the Red Party, so some of my people being Red Party members is unavoidable."

"I'm not constantly monitoring the company. These people work diligently. Honestly, my businesses have thrived because of men like Yan Zhengcai and the escaped Li Zhao—they contributed. They hid well; I couldn't identify them, nor did I need to. Across Shanghai, I run the largest enterprises and employ the most people, and I still deal with the Red Party."

"Yet other merchants also deal with the Red Party and have sizable businesses. I don't believe their staff are free of Red Party members. And everyone knows: our people include agents from the Military Statistics Bureau, the Central Statistics Bureau, the Tokumu-ka, the Iwai Residence, and even your people. If we fixate on this, it's pointless."

Li Shiqun shook his head repeatedly: "Mr. Wang, rest assured—we have no intention of escalating this. As for business, even the Japanese trade penicillin with the Red Party—what does that have to do with you? Just now, Minister Zhou and Superintendent Nantian of the Tokumu-ka called, urging us to finish quickly and not delay you too long."

Ming Lou nodded earnestly beside him, his face saying, "He's right." His position was too low—he had no voice. Li Shiqun had served the Japanese for years; he dominated the conversation.

"Then I'm relieved. Unjust misfortune is the most annoying." Wang Yan sighed again: "Director Li, you're busy—don't waste your time with me. Let Director Ming stay. Superintendent Wang's questioning won't take long. I'll chat with him about business, then leave."

"I do have many pressing matters. If so, let Director Ming stay. Another day, I'll invite Director Ding and Minister Zhou—we'll have a drink together. Since our last gathering, we've all been longing for another—drinking with you was so enjoyable. You must join us."

Li Shiqun said nothing more. His status was low—he didn't enjoy smiling at Wang Yan. He gave Ming Lou instructions and left his secretary behind to monitor the situation.

As Li Shiqun departed, Ming Lou said: "Mr. Wang, I must apologize again. This small matter shouldn't have disturbed you. But for safety, to avoid future trouble, we had no choice but to act this way."

"What good is your apology? I understand your actions, but the losses are mine. Fortunately, today's heavy snow blocked the roads—otherwise, today's losses wouldn't have been minor."

His goods needed turnover, his money needed circulation, and contracts with others had fixed delivery dates. Delays meant compensation. Even though the contracts had accounted for contingencies and allowed ample time, he naturally exaggerated the damage.

Ming Lou nodded gratefully: "Then you're lucky—the snow arrived just in time. Once No. 76 finishes its search and screening, there will be far fewer troubles, and you'll enjoy long-term peace."

"Am I lucky? It's the Red Party's bad luck! I heard: a Red Party member embedded in the Secretariat sneaked into the archives to steal documents—and was caught red-handed. If that Red Party member had been luckier, he wouldn't have been captured, wouldn't be in that half-dead state, and I wouldn't be here."

"Then it's better to say it was his bad fate." Ming Lou smiled, pointing at Yan Zhengcai inside the cell: "If the Red Party member in the Secretariat had held out longer like him, this wouldn't have touched you at all."

"I still don't get it—my Red Party members have reached manager level, yet instead of quietly handling cargo, they go after intelligence." Wang Yan waved his hand: "Let's go. No more of this. Has your Economic Bureau had any changes lately? I heard from the lower ranks…"

Wang Yan turned and strolled away with his hands behind his back, genuinely discussing business with Ming Lou, who, as Director of the Economic Bureau, patiently answered—no other topics were mentioned.

From earlier brief exchanges, Wang Yan realized Ming Lou didn't know the full story. Besides the Red Party member in the Secretariat, there was also a rickshaw puller from the rickshaw company. That didn't fit: the two had just discussed the origin of the incident, implying nothing had happened at the start. The person directly tied to Wang Yan was the rickshaw puller—then Yan Zhengcai was dragged in, then Li Zhao.

Ming Lou must have heard of the incident and come from the City Hall. City Hall is far from No. 76, and with today's snow, travel was slow.

Since Ming Lou wasn't notified beforehand, his arrival was merely a casual inquiry, and Li Shiqun gave a brief reply. So Wang Yan had just hinted at two points, giving Ming Lou a hook to later press Li Shiqun or Wang Manchun.

The exact sequence didn't matter. What mattered was: what intelligence had driven the Red Party member, who had infiltrated the Secretariat so carefully, to risk stealing from the archives? That was what Ming Lou, as Shanghai's underground Communist intelligence chief, needed to uncover…

Wang Manchun did not interrogate Gu Zhang Yongcheng and Shi Changxing for long before releasing them. She had intended to escort them out personally, but upon seeing Wang Yan and Ming Lou standing in the snow outside the gate, smoking and chatting casually, surrounded by others, she turned back.

One was an old lover, the other her current companion—she felt awkward. Especially since she knew Wang Yan was a troublemaker; if she stepped out, he'd say something vile to annoy her. So she wisely avoided it.

"Director Ming, how much longer until the warehouse search is done?"

"I truly can't say. You know—it's the Japanese calling the shots. Otherwise, even if No. 76 had the courage of heaven, it wouldn't dare surround your warehouse, right?"

"Alright then. Let's leave it at that. We'll drink together another time. Talking with you is interesting."

"It's my honor, Mr. Wang. The roads are slippery in the snow—please drive carefully."

Wang Yan waved his hand, gave them the destination, and got into Qi Si's car, leaving first.

Gu Zhang Yongcheng and Shi Changxing stepped out of No. 76's main gate, boarded the car already waiting for them, and followed behind.

"Brother Yan, the Japanese…"

Qi Si, the driver, was about to speak, but through the rearview mirror saw Wang Yan shake his head—he instantly fell silent. After a moment's thought, he realized: they had come to No. 76 as just two men. He'd been trailing Wang Yan, watching everything, and the car had been out of his sight. That was the Special Operations Headquarters—everywhere were agents. Who knew if something had been planted on the car?

"Brother Yan, by the time we get back, it'll be dinner time. Why not eat right away? It'll help Gu Manager and Shi Ge shake off the bad luck—No. 76 isn't a good place."

"We just ate!"

"It's cold! You burn energy faster—and I'm still growing!"

Qi Four talked while looking around the car, occasionally reaching out to feel things, checking the side mirrors for any vehicles tailing them from behind, and at intersections glancing into the alleys on both sides, hoping to spot any suspicious cars on parallel roads.

The journey passed in idle chatter between the two, and by the time they slowly made their way back to the French Concession it was already past four o'clock. So Wang Yan took Qi Four's suggestion and found a Sichuan-Chongqing hotpot place to eat.

The cold weather and poor roads meant business wasn't great—nobody wanted to come out—so there weren't many people in the restaurant at that hour. Qi Four had a whole pot to himself on one side, tearing into the meat with gusto, while Wang Yan sat at a table with Gu Zhang Yongcheng and Shi Changxing, and the conversation there wasn't something Qi Four could overhear.

Wang Yan took a sip of wine, ate a peanut, and used his chopsticks to fish out a heaping load of lamb slices from the pot. Looking at the two somewhat uneasy men across from him, he said, "Tell me, what's going on?"

Earlier, in the meeting room at Number Seventy-Six, the moment Wang Yan walked in, he saw Shi Changxing wink at him—there was something going on.

Shi Changxing exchanged a glance with Gu Zhang Yongcheng. Gu Zhang Yongcheng pushed his glasses up, sighed, leaned forward, and carefully looked at Wang Yan as he tentatively said in a low voice, "Brother Yan, if I told you Li Zhao is in our hands, you wouldn't be mad, right?"