Chapter 678: Voluntary Exposure

"Wang Sang, you're truly impressive," said Fujihara Shin'ya, dark circles under his eyes and the weary look of excess, sincerely to Wang Yan.

Last night, his room was next to Wang Yan's, and the soundproofing wasn't good. He finished quickly on his side, but spent the whole night listening to the noises from Wang Yan's side.

"Mr. Fujihara, this cannot be forced. When I was young and first with a woman, I even thought I was sick. It's a kind of trouble too."

Wang Yan paused his hearty eating and drinking, sighed, and shook his head helplessly, as if he didn't want to be so strong either.

Seeing Wang Yan's slightly upturned lips, Fujihara Shin'ya swore he really wanted to shoot this show-off right in the head. He said nothing, chose to silently eat, and swallowed his inner wounds.

Wang Yan didn't let the awkwardness linger; he asked directly: "Mr. Fujihara, you've been in China three years—what do you think of it?"

Fujihara Shin'ya thought for a moment and said: "It's fine. Much bigger than Japan, more scenery, more resources—that's exactly the meaning of the Greater Japanese Empire. Also, Chinese women are very good. I like them very much."

"Oh? Have you ever dated Chinese women before?"

"Sort of. The one who impressed me most was in Shandong—she was a city girl, from a decent family, and very beautiful…"

He stopped there. Wang Yan pressed: "What happened after?"

"After… I wanted her to be with me, but she not only refused—she even called me a devil, cursed His Majesty the Emperor, and cursed the great plan of the Greater Japanese Empire. That was unforgivable. I was furious, so I tied her up and took her, then captured her parents and relatives, made her watch them die one by one before her eyes. I played with her for half a month, then sent her to a comfort station. She's probably dead by now…"

Fujihara Shin'ya showed a hint of melancholy, then instantly changed expression, staring at Wang Yan: "Wang Sang, you're Chinese too. I said all this—do you mind?"

Wang Yan's eyes and expression showed no ripple. He shook his head and smiled: "Mr. Fujihara, you're overthinking. If you said that to any Chinese under the Xinzheng Prefecture, no one would mind. According to the two parties' view, we're all traitors without country or nation. I'm selfish—I only care about living well myself, who cares about others' lives?"

"Wang Sang, you're truly a smart man."

"You're wrong, Mr. Fujihara. I'm a fool. Smart men don't live long. I want to live a hundred years."

The two laughed for a while. Wang Yan asked: "Mr. Fujihara, you're a good man—we suit each other. When you have time, call me. Oh, by the way, where do you live? We just met—I'd like to give you a gift. But I don't know what you like. I have some Western liquor at home, fine wines passed down for decades, even centuries. I drink them wastefully; someone like you, from a thousand-year noble family, is perfect. I'll have someone deliver them to you."

"That's truly wonderful—I live on Yokohama Road…"

"Good, I'll remember. Tonight I'll send the wine over."

After that, as they ate, Wang Yan chatted casually with him, mostly about his experiences in China over the past three years.

His words came from the heart—when Fujihara Shin'ya said "the one woman who impressed me most," that meant there were many others who didn't. He must have done this kind of evil countless times. Wang Yan was probing for exactly that. In fact, he didn't even need to ask—once the floodgates opened, Fujihara Shin'ya spilled it all himself.

This Japanese noble-born chubby man, though desperately trying to appear mature and capable, couldn't hide that he was a fool—he was transparent after three sentences.

Fujihara Shin'ya didn't realize it—he only knew that among the lowly, filthy Chinese, he'd found a kindred spirit. After breakfast, he even ran out to see Wang Yan off, watched him leave, then returned to find Iwai Eiichi.

Short and sturdy Iwai Eiichi smiled warmly: "Shin'ya, what do you think of Wang Sang?"

"Yes, Uncle Iwai, you were right—he's sincere and generous," Fujihara Shin'ya laughed. "Last night over drinks, he warned me Shanghai is too dangerous, told me to lie low and keep a low profile. Ming Sang was there too—he said the same. This morning over breakfast, I had a great chat with Wang Sang. He even said he'd send me some liquor today."

"He's among the best of the Chinese—no worse than Zhou Fuhai. The long-term stability of the Greater Japanese Empire in China depends on men like him. Shin'ya, you must interact with him more. Learn how to handle men like this. Of course, you're still far behind Wang Sang, but spending time with men like him, you'll instantly spot the stupidity of ordinary people. Remember: listen more, watch more."

"Yes, Shin'ya will remember."

"Alright, go do your work. Everything's arranged. If problems arise, come find me anytime."

"Yes, Uncle Iwai. Shin'ya takes his leave."

Watching Fujihara Shin'ya leave with proper respect, Iwai Eiichi muttered to himself with a chuckle: "What a polite young man…"

Leaving Hongkou, he first went to the North Station, then detoured to other factories to check everything was proceeding as planned, before returning to the French Concession.

He went to see Iwai Eiichi to show his helplessness. But yesterday and this morning, Iwai Eiichi said nothing about it—and he'd already accepted the gift—so the matter was clearly over.

Actually, it wasn't serious at all. The point was to make others feel his fear—overreacting was entirely necessary. His persona demanded it: this kind of thing could be trivial or deadly. Small, it's a fart. Big, it kills him.

How would the Japanese ever reason? They seem nice now only because he hasn't caused trouble, he cooperates, he's sensible, and he's valuable. Otherwise, if they wanted to kill him, they'd just make up a lame excuse—or skip the excuse entirely and grab and kill him. No nonsense…

In the afternoon, bored and idle, he went to the opera house to listen to music and drink tea. As expected, Ming Lou arrived uninvited soon after.

Watching Ming Cheng and Qi Si chat off to the side, he sat beside Wang Yan, picked up the teapot, poured tea for Wang Yan—and also for himself: "Mr. Wang has quite the leisurely charm."

"Life is short—seize the moment. Why make yourself so tired?"

"You see things clearly. I can't reach your level."

Wang Yan turned his head to look at him, sipped tea, shifted slightly, and whispered: "Want to know what they talked about last night?"

Ming Lou didn't avoid Wang Yan's gaze—he nodded: "Name your condition. If I can do it, I won't refuse."

"You can't do much." Wang Yan chuckled and shook his head. "But we're neighbors, we have business together—let's deepen our friendship. Five ten thousand dollars isn't too much, is it?"

"Not at all. I'll have Cheng send someone to the Qinglian Bank right away—transfer it to Yonghua Industries' account."

Wang Yan motioned him closer. When Ming Lou leaned in, he whispered: "Under Yagami Teisho is a secret intelligence unit called the Plum Agency. Last night, they discussed the two parties. Yagami Teisho said he received intelligence that Chongqing has recently taken a more aggressive stance toward the Red Party. He also learned that troop movements in the Second War Zone are unusual. The rest—you don't need me to say more, do you?"

Ming Lou tried hard to hide it, but his pupils' sudden contraction betrayed his shock.

"Thank you!" He bowed slightly—this intelligence was truly vital.

"Nothing. After all, I made money. Thanks to my broad knowledge and fluency in multiple languages—earning this money is comfortable." Wang Yan waved his hand, smiling. "Someday I might fall on hard times. But with my skills, I can still eat well. Not bad."

Ming Lou smiled and played along perfectly.

At this point, he could no longer hide—he'd already shed two layers of disguise and fully exposed his Red Party identity. On the way back last night, he'd pondered Wang Yan's cryptic gaze, and couldn't help sending Ming Cheng to contact Yu Manli to confirm he hadn't been exposed there. He'd only met Wang Yan a few times over a short period—he had no idea where he'd slipped up.

After long, careful thought last night, combining Wang Yan's past actions and the various evaluations he'd heard about him, he decided to expose himself. His instinct told him the intelligence last night was critical—he trusted his instinct.

Now the facts proved him right. If the Kuomintang was preparing to restart civil war, how could this not matter? How would he respond without preparation?

It was unavoidable. If he didn't expose himself, he'd never get the intelligence. Exposing himself meant shedding at least one layer. Now, because of the intelligence, he'd shed two layers—his bottom layer was exposed…

"There's one thing I don't understand—I hope you'll kindly enlighten me."

"Speak."

"How did you find out I had a problem?"

Wang Yan shook his head and smiled: "I didn't find out. Wang Manchun suspected you—she mentioned your oddities to me. Since we've been interacting frequently lately, I just decided to test you out of boredom. I need to know who belongs to whom, whose side they're on, so I can act properly. Now you've come, and you showed slight unease when you heard what I said—that proves you're Red Party."

"But I think it's not that simple. I received word that the head of the Intelligence Division at the KMT Shanghai Station has changed—codename 'Viper'—never been seen. Among those recently arriving in Shanghai whom I know are qualified, only you fit. I don't need evidence—just a sense of wrongness, and I assume you're problematic. Now it seems your problem is serious indeed."

Ming Lou sighed, offering a helpless, bitter smile: "So… we continue working together?"

"No. We've never worked together. I still say: I don't care if you fight the Japanese—but don't drag me into it. We're doing business, understand?"

"Understood. I was rash. Please don't blame me."

Wang Yan sipped his tea and looked at him: "Chen Gongshu has been in Shanghai for a long time—only killed one Chinese inspector in the French Concession. Even though he was an inspector, he was just a powerless civil servant in the Political Department—no major impact at all. No big moves."

"To be honest, he originally planned to assassinate Wang again, but his message was intercepted and decoded, so the operation was shelved. His recent days have been hard—Li Shiqun personally leads the team, with Wang Manchun and Liang Zhongchun chasing him relentlessly. I'm not sure what your intention is…"

"That Fujiwara Shin'ya from yesterday—we had breakfast together this morning. Do you know what he told me?" Wang Yan's eyes glinted with malice. "He said he once met a beautiful city girl in Shandong… What's the point of keeping someone like him?"

Ming Lou nodded seriously. "You're a man who cares for his own kind too."

"It's not that far-reaching—it's just that Fujiwara Shin'ya comes from the Fujiwara clan, his status is extremely high, his background is extremely solid. Whether or not he did those things, if he's useful, he deserves to die. And I told you this simply because, though that little fat man seems humble, he doesn't respect me, and he hasn't reached the level of Iwai Eiichi yet, so I'm very displeased. Don't move against him anytime soon, or we'll both come under suspicion."

"Rest assured, I understand. I'll arrange it as soon as I return—I guarantee this Fujiwara noble won't live past a month," Ming Lou said with confidence, and rightly so.

After all, they were striking with intent against the unsuspecting, meticulously planning an assassination. Aside from a few individuals, no one expected to be targeted. Especially Fujiwara Shin'ya, who acted as if he didn't care—and the plan was formulated and executed by Chen Gongshu. This little Japanese was virtually dead already. If they couldn't kill someone like him, the Military Statistics Bureau truly was a bunch of useless eaters.

"Alright, go. Next time you want to see me, make an appointment first. Showing up suddenly like this is bad for both of us."

"Very well, then I won't disturb your good mood. Goodbye."

Ming Lou nodded, rose, and left without hesitation.

Wang Yan glanced at his retreating back, continued sipping tea, his crossed leg swaying to the rhythm of the music…

That night, he was with Wang Man Chun, who hadn't appeared for several days—still the same old talk.

"I heard you were cavorting with two Japanese women last night, and yet you're still this energetic today—what a beast."

"Take it as a compliment."

Wang Man Chun lay lazily in someone's arms, too bored to even roll her eyes. "I also heard you've been getting close to Ming Lou lately—didn't you even get involved with Liang Zhongchun a couple days ago?"

"You're spying on me?"

"Where did you get that idea? The people watching you were pulled back long ago. Think about it—what's your status? Ming Lou just returned from abroad; his identity is hard to verify, so he's under close watch. As for Liang Zhongchun, none of his men can keep a secret—what secrets are there?"

Wang Yan smiled. "Actually, nothing much—Ming Lou seems to be courting Liang Zhongchun. He's the Director of the Economic Bureau, came to me saying he wanted to go into business together. How could I refuse? Compared to the money looted by the Xinzheng Prefecture and the Japanese, the share I give out is large, but overall I still profit. The math is simple."

"Oh, by the way, I need to warn you: last night I went to Iwai Eiichi's place, and Ming Lou went too—he's joined Iwai's residence. And it seems Ming Lou is vying for power with Li Shiqun. Watch out—that spy planted by the Japanese in your midst."

"What do I need to watch out for? Let them fight among themselves—I do my own work. We're all serving the Japanese, yet they insist on competing for rank and status. Why bother?"

"To increase their own value, so the Japanese won't discard them easily. What proves their value? Of course, their position. But more than that, they must demonstrate some irreplaceable function. Only then can they survive long. So you, a mere Chief of the 76th Bureau, though feared as a ruthless hound outside, and even somewhat close to Nan Tianyangzi—if you lack greater value, you'll be discarded one day. And for someone like you, the only fate after being discarded is death."

"Then let me die! If I lack the ability, I accept death!"

"I hope your mouth stays this hard…"

After Wang Man Chun fell asleep, Wang Yan dressed fully, slipped out of the Wang Tianyue Gongguan, and went to a safehouse in the International Settlement to send a message. Though Ming Lou already knew the intelligence, he still had to report it upward—and reveal that Ming Lou had exposed his identity in front of him.

This was to prevent the Central Committee from directly inquiring with local sources, and instead wait for the Shanghai underground party organization to report upward. On the other hand, he couldn't conceal the fact that Ming Lou had revealed his identity. Such matters must be reported—avoiding unnecessary trouble. The organization recognizes no individuals, no trivial matters—especially in the covert war…

What happened after his intelligence was sent was none of his concern.

November 26, 1939—the world-shaking event came from the Soviet Union. Over a border dispute, they found a pretext, staged an incident, and declared war on Finland. It became known as the "Winter War," because it occurred in winter…

December 1—the world-shaking event came from Yan Xishan.

He ordered the Second Column of the Anti-Japanese Death Corps to attack Japanese forces, placing the unit squarely between Japanese and Nationalist forces. As expected, the Second Column refused the order. Yan Xishan then declared the Second Column "rebel troops," ordered their "punitive campaign," and deployed six armies of the Shanxi-Sui forces to attack the Communist troops.

Subsequent offensives, coordinated with Japanese actions, blocked the Communist troops' breakout, causing some casualties. But due to prior intelligence, preparations were relatively adequate, and casualties were significantly reduced.

War is war—battlefield conditions change too fast. Even with prior intelligence, fighting was inevitable. And the intelligence only revealed Yan Xishan's intent to strike; the exact methods and military deployments remained unknown. So the Communist forces simply retreated cleanly and fled quickly.

This became the nationwide shock known as the "Jinxi Incident"—another anti-Communist surge by the Kuomintang during the War of Resistance, lasting a long time and inflicting certain losses on the Communists.

The Communists immediately published articles in major newspapers condemning the Kuomintang for having no sense of nation or ethnicity, destroying the two-party cooperation, and harboring evil intentions to reignite civil war.

As the news spread, the entire nation erupted. Most people cursed the Kuomintang.

They deserved it. The Japanese had already occupied so much territory—and at such a moment, the Kuomintang still did this. Who else should they curse?