Chapter 824

The thirteenth day of the bait plan's implementation, Iruma City, Saitama Prefecture, Seibu residential area.

The house where Yamada Nanase lives is located deepest in the residential area, right next to a patch of mixed woodland. The exterior walls are off-white, the roof tiles are dark gray, and at the entrance grows a boxwood trimmed into a sphere.

From the outside, this is just an utterly ordinary detached house inhabited by some affluent family.

Within a 200-meter radius, twelve plainclothes officers take turns conducting surveillance.

Uesugi Muneyuki and Ikeda Erena are stationed in a nearby "vacant" apartment, Kai Toru is disguised as a gardener, Nango Yui is disguised as a nearby office worker, Okada Masayoshi and Ozawa Sumiko are monitoring from nearby, while Public Security Police Tsugawa Shouichi is working as a "rice ball delivery," actually making food deliveries nearby, and another person seconded from the Metropolitan Police Department, SAT Captain Godai Yusuke, is moonlighting as a "SF Express" courier, genuinely working as a delivery person. Date Nagamune and Maeda Toshihide are disguised as nearby-residing civil service exam candidates, loafing youths who go jogging.

These two guys really do have long-term experience preparing for civil service exams, and they really have been loafing youths, so they don't even need to pretend.

Everyone is waiting.

Waiting for that knock on the door that may or may not come.

Everything is ready.

Yamada Nanase's INS account "shiori_newlife_0525" posted over twenty entries in the past two weeks, each carefully designed, gaining her over four thousand followers.

Her "remarried husband" Matsuo Masasada's virtual identity is none other than the person in charge of Japan Cisco Business Marketing Department, with a take-home annual income of fifteen million yen, and on LinkedIn and social media he has a complete, flawless career trajectory.

If someone were to look him up, they would see this person truly exists, has work experience, has social connections, has business trip records, and everything holds up under scrutiny down to the finest detail.

But after Uesugi Muneyuki asked his two birth mothers, Watanabe Michiko and Uesugi Tomoko, he discovered there was still a loophole.

A fatal loophole sufficient to cause the entire plan to fail at the last moment.

The noblewomen's social circle.

A family with a take-home annual income of fifteen million yen belongs to the upper-middle tier in the Tokyo area.

The husband is a foreign-company executive, the wife is a remarried housewife, living in a secluded residential area of Saitama Prefecture.

Such a persona requires the support of a social circle—not ordinary neighbors and mom groups, but one matching the husband's social standing, possessing a certain refinement, capable of proving "this woman has indeed integrated into this stratum."

If Yamada Nanase's social network only featured her alone posting happiness, with no interaction with peers of the same stratum, it would be like a painting with only the protagonist and no background, hollow enough to arouse suspicion.

Uesugi Muneyuki spent three days solving this problem.

He did not go through the Metropolitan Police Department, nor any official channel. He used his own phone and made a call.

"Mai-sama, it's me."

A languid, morning-gravelly female voice came from the other end, but even with that morning haze, the voice remained pleasing to the ear like a cello's resonance: "Junior Student, do you know what time it is now? I'm filming night scenes for your 'Hand of God,' just slept two hours." "I know. Do me a favor."

"What favor?"

"Have a meal with someone."

Uesugi Muneyuki's second call was to Saito Asuka.

"Yo, this isn't Lord Muneyuki, huh?" The voice on the other end was playful and sharp, like a puffed-up little bird: "How long since we last contacted? I thought you were tangled up by some high-BMI woman."

And the third person was naturally Namita Erika, daughter of Namita Hiro, who originally had great interest in participating in this matter.

That evening, Yamada Nanase's phone received three LINE messages.

【@Shirakawa Mai is pretty pretty pretty: "Nanase-chan, are you free tomorrow noon? I know a particularly delicious French restaurant in Nogizaka, let's go together"】【@Not Uesugi Asuka: "I heard you moved to a new home? I'll go take a look. No refusing."】

【@Namita Erika-chan: "Yamada-san, my family is having a small gathering next week, you definitely must come. My dad says he wants to meet you."】Yamada Nanase held her phone, her fingers trembling.

Not from fear, but because—Shirakawa Mai? That Shirakawa Mai? The Shirakawa Mai that all Japanese men dream of having a meal with? Actively inviting her to eat?

She lifted her head, looked at Uesugi Muneyuki sitting opposite on the sofa, flipping through the autopsy report, opened her mouth to say something, but realized she didn't know what to say.

Uesugi Muneyuki didn't even lift his head: "They're very nice people, you'll know once you go."

The next day, the photo of Yamada Nanase and Shirakawa Mai together appeared on INS.

Posted by Shirakawa Mai, caption: "Had a super delicious lunch with my newly acquainted friend Nanase #girlstalk#new friends". In the photo, Shirakawa Mai's smile is like blossoms, Yamada Nanase shyly leans on her shoulder, the two faces pressed together, as if they've been best friends for ten years.

Shirohaku!

This post gained 100,000 likes within ten minutes.

The comment section was filled with "Mai-sama's friend is also so cute," "Both are beauties," "Who is this Nanase, so curious"—no one doubted, nor was there any reason to.

Shirakawa Mai's friend circle originally is Japanese society's topmost circle; she today drinks tea with that zaibatsu daughter, tomorrow goes shopping with that famous designer, adding one "ordinary friend" is completely normal.

The next day, Saito Asuka posted a selfie taken in Yamada Nanase's living room, background that genuine leather sofa and that glass of red wine. Caption: "Nanase's new home is so comfortable, I don't want to leave."

In the photo, Saito Asuka pouts, one hand holding the phone, the other arm around Yamada Nanase's waist, their faces close together, like two cats snuggling.

The third day, Namita Erika posted a set of four-grid photos, featuring her, Yamada Nanase, Shirakawa Mai, and Saito Asuka, location being a certain building in Kamakura's art museum—one of those Western-Japanese hybrid old houses, the yard planted with century-old ginkgo trees, the living room hanging an Edo-period folding screen. Four vastly different faces huddled together, like a painting.

Shirakawa Mai stands in the very center, graceful and radiant, like the sun.

Saito Asuka stands to her left, petite and delicate, like a star beside the moon.

Namita Erika stands to the right, dignified and elegant, her smile carrying the particular reserve of a well-educated young lady.

Yamada Nanase stands at the far edge, shyly smiling, like a small flower just learning to bloom.

The caption is written by Namita Erika: "Shirohakachou!"

Four characters, embedding the four names, this post exploded simultaneously in the idol circle, actor circle, musical theater circle, and housewife circle. The four individuals' fans began visiting each other, and Yamada Nanase's INS account gained ten thousand followers overnight.

The comment section was full of "What kind of divine combination is this," "Four beauties in one frame, my eyes are going blind," "Shirohakachou is too beautiful, right?"—no one doubted at all, for why would they? Shirakawa Mai's friends naturally should be of this level.

Yamada Nanase stands among them, not because of who she is, but because they said she is.

This is the logic of Japan's upper-class women's circle—not who you yourself are, but who acknowledges you as theirs.

Thus, the final shortcoming was made up.

On the seventh day of surveillance, the nearby Special Mission Division temporary command post.

Uesugi Muneyuki rarely sat beside Okada Masayoshi, with a canned coffee bought from a vending machine in front of him, already cold.

He had just finished an urgent autopsy in Tokyo and rushed over, wearing a cashmere sweater under a dark gray trench coat, collar stood up, blocking half his face.

On the four screens, Yamada Nanase's front door, backyard, side window, and street view lay still and quiet, with no abnormality. Okada Masayoshi leaned back in his chair, rubbed his temples: "Uesugi, those three people you found, the effect is better than I imagined. Yamada Nanase's INS now looks like that of a genuine upper-class housewife—not because of what she posted, but because of who interacts with her." Uesugi Muneyuki took a sip of the cold coffee, his brow not furrowing at all: "The circle of upper-class women in Japan has always been the 'concentric circles' model. A group of people revolve around one or two individuals; those one or two approve someone, and that person enters the circle. It has nothing to do with ability, nothing to do with background, everything to do with 'that person saying you are.'"

Yes, different from imagination, different from the parallel social circles in 《Thirty Only》, the genuine upper-class women's social circle in Japan is overwhelmingly vertical.

How to describe this circle? Actually, in 《Dream of the Red Chamber》, Cao Xueqin already gave the best exemplar.

Truly upper-class women in fact do not like spending all day "king sees king," except in necessary occasions; their social circle is generally one "Grandmother Jia," a few "Lady Wang," "Lady Xing," "Lady Yu," then further out "Lady Li," "Lady Wang Xifeng," "Lady Snow," and so on—a group of small fry.

The senior wives are the core, the mid-level wives are the backbone, and the junior wives are the periphery.

Mai Xuejie in this circle is like "Grandma Jia", Ikeda Erena is "Lady Wang", Saito Asuka is "Lady Wang Xifeng", and Yamada Nanase is "Lady Li Wan".

She approved of Yamada Nanase, and others naturally followed her approval, needing no reason or explanation.

Therefore, to some extent, Japan's political system has actually seen little change over a thousand years.

This is Japan, listening to Bai Chuan Wei say this:

Date Nagamune turned his head from the front seat's surveillance equipment, expressionless, and said: "Uesugi-san, you don't need to explain this to us. We people—me, Nango, Kai, Maeda—each one of us, who didn't grow up in this kind of circle? And you and Uesugi Section Chief, Okada Management Officer...

Maeda Toshihide leaned forward from the back seat, his round face showing an expression that said: "Although I'm also from the old nobility, I've never thought this was worth mentioning." My family started from the Kaga domain, hundreds of years ago, I've seen this since I was young. To put it bluntly—it doesn't matter who you are, it matters who you know. It doesn't matter who you know, what matters is who acknowledges knowing you.

Uesugi Muneyuki looked at these people, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly—not a smile, but a helpless "I knew it".

They're right. Everyone here, except Ikeda Erena, has grown up in this circle. Old nobility, sons of Ministry of Finance senior officials, sons of Ministry of Justice political officials, sons of bank managing directors—each one of them has known the world's operating rules since birth. Not rules written in law, but rules written in tea parties, banquets, golf courses, and aristocratic kindergarten parent groups. Nango Yui and Kai Toru nodded, while Ozawa Sumiko silently turned her gaze away: "Actually, the upper class in American society isn't much different... Harvard and Yale alumni associations, charity galas, art exhibitions... everyone's the same, it's a vanity fair."

Ikeda Erena lifted her head from the chair beside her, her face full of surprise:

"Eh? Is it really like this?"

The car fell silent for a moment. Everyone looked at her, expressions varied—Okada Masayoshi was "You actually didn't know?", Date Nagamune was "What's there to be surprised about?", Nango Yui was "You've never attended such a gathering?", Kai Toru was "Your luck is really good", Maeda Toshihide was "Ikeda-senpai is so cute".

"No, I think upper-class society shouldn't be... more independent women, more free socializing, emphasizing... building an equal network based on interests and business cooperation..." Ikeda Erena asked blankly.

"It's always been the same, ah—the chaebol wives' gatherings in Seoul's Georgetown, the nobility tea parties in Tokyo's Shirokane, the East Diplomatic Quarter in Berlin, the top private clubs in Jade Spring Mountain or Fragrant Hills, wives' luncheons—always the same. Of course, if you want to say the new elite finance wives' circle in Frankfurt's Lujiabu Xintiandi, or the AIIB and internet IT enterprise new elite wives' circle in Singapore, that would indeed better match your impression." Uesugi Muneyuki said with a smile.

"So I've never understood you people," Ikeda Erena muttered: "Obviously each of you hates that kind of circle to death, but when you use it, you're more skilled than anyone."

No one answered her.

Not because there's no answer, but because what she said is a fact—they really do dislike that circle, and they really are more skilled at using it than anyone. This is the destiny of the privileged class: you can despise the rules, but you cannot not master them.

This group of second-generation heirs surrounding Uesugi Muneyuki are already willing to do practical work and endure hardship, but their very ability to enter is precisely the manifestation of the privileged class's advantage—compared to talent, having a mediocre talent who can actually display their talent is most important.

Uesugi Muneyuki placed the chilled coffee can on the table, about to say something, when a voice suddenly came through the earpiece.

Not the voice from the command vehicle.

It was the voice from the real-time communication channel of the surveillance point.

The voices of Public Security Police officers Hojo Toru and Hikawa Makoto were urgent, low, carrying a tension everyone had been waiting for—the tension of something long-awaited finally arriving.

"Front gate direction, someone approaching. Female, alone. Wearing OL uniform, black high-heeled shoes, holding a file folder in hand. About fifty meters from the target residence, walking along the small path."

Everyone's movements in the car froze at the same moment.

Uesugi Muneyuki did not move.

He looked at the screen—a woman, around thirty years old, wearing a dark gray OL uniform suit, black silk stockings, black high-heeled shoes, holding a transparent file folder, walking along the narrow asphalt road in front of Yamada Nanase's house.

Her gait was natural, neither hurried nor slow, her high-heeled shoes making a rhythmic "pat-pat" sound on the pavement, clearly audible in the quiet residential area.

She reached the gate of Yamada Nanase's house, paused slightly, looked up at the doorplate, then reached out and pressed the doorbell.

"Ding-dong."

"Ding-dong~ding-dong-ding-dong~"

In Uesugi Muneyuki's earpiece came Yamada Nanase's breathing—she had heard the doorbell inside, and was now walking toward the genkan following the rehearsed procedure. Her breathing was a little hurried but not disordered, her heart rate probably around 100—for a housewife who has never received any training, this is already textbook-level calm.

"Nanase." Uesugi Muneyuki spoke into the earpiece, his voice as steady as if he were telling her what to eat for dinner tonight: "Don't be afraid. We're all here." "Nan-chan, hold steady!"

The door opened.

The woman stood at the door, her face bearing a professional smile, raising the file folder in her hand.

"Hello! Sorry to disturb you, I'm from the nearby business association, currently conducting a community safety activity questionnaire survey."

In the command vehicle, everyone's eyes were fixed on the screen.

Uesugi Muneyuki leaned against the chair back, pressing the cool coffee can against his palm, feeling that icy touch.

His expression showed no change, but his eyes—those eyes that are always calm like a dead pool of water at any moment—now faintly brightened, as if something beneath the ice was burning.

"Here." He said.

Okada Masayoshi and the others also nodded.

Here!