Chapter 202: Prologue 5

The meeting entered the concrete arrangement stage. Zhou Ming chaired the meeting: "Since the direction is set, I will offer a few specific suggestions. First, after Li Yuxuan is sent to Gongde Lin, a separate courtyard should be arranged for him, not to live with other personnel. His living conditions should be preferential, allowing him to read books and newspapers, and his family may visit."

"Second, the medical side must be ensured. He is fifty‑nine this year, and his health is said to be poor. Gongde Lin's doctors need to conduct regular examinations, and required medicines may be reported through special channels."

"Fourth," Zhou Ming looked toward Chen Yi, "the Huadong Bureau should assign a few reliable comrades here, regularly under the guise of visits to learn the situation and ensure safety. Comrade Chen Yi is currently in Shanghai; he has a teacher‑student bond with Mr. Li, making communication easier."

Chen Yi nodded: "I will arrange it as soon as possible."

"Fifth," Zhou Ming emphasized at the end, "the Gongde Lin Management Office must make clear that Li Yuxuan is a special case. Management requirements must be implemented, and he must be given due respect. If any situation arises, report directly to the Central authorities; no unauthorized handling is allowed."

The recorder's pen tip moved swiftly across the paper. These directives will become the concrete basis for subsequent work.

After the meeting adjourned, Ren Ming signaled Zhou Ming to stay. When everyone left, Ren Ming walked to the window and stared silently at the lake for a moment.

"There's always something unsettling in my heart," Ren Ming suddenly said. "He did teach me after all. When my mother was gravely ill back then, he asked someone to bring me twenty Silver Yuan—at that time his monthly salary was only eighty."

Zhou Ming stood quietly beside him, offering no reply.

Ren Ming turned around: "The course of history often moves one to sigh. Had he chosen a different path back then, his circumstances might have been vastly different."

"Everyone must bear responsibility for their own choices," Zhou Ming said calmly, "He chose his stance; that is a fact. But we have not wholly repudiated his past actions because of that, and that is the most just we can do."

Ren Ming nodded, relit a cigarette: "Instruct the subordinate comrades to treat him… with the proper courtesy. After all, he was once a senior."

At the same time, in an official residence somewhere in the Southeast, several people were holding a secret discussion. Besides the elder referred to as "the officer," there were Mao Qian, head of the intelligence department, his eldest son Jiang Jingguo, and the former Third War Zone Deputy Chief of Staff who had just arrived from across the strait.

"Has the information been verified?" the elder asked.

"Confirmed," Mao Qian replied, "Jing Gong has been placed in Yanjing Gongde Lin, in a separate courtyard, treatment… reportedly acceptable."

The elder snorted lightly: "Acceptable? How good can their Management Office be? It's just a superficial show."

"Father," Jiang Jingguo began, "should we consider a rescue operation?"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Mao Qian first shook his head: "The difficulty is too great. Gongde Lin is in a core area; even our people find it hard to penetrate, let alone extract anyone."

"But Uncle Li holds too many secrets," Jiang Jingguo lowered his voice, "the War Zone deployments, personnel networks, and… the contact records with the American side. If he were to reveal the truth there, it would be highly detrimental to us."

The elder did not respond immediately, tapping his fingers lightly on the chair arm. After a long pause he asked, "Based on your knowledge of Li Yuxuan, how much would he say?"

The former Deputy Chief of Staff answered cautiously: "Sir, according to my observation, Sir Li Yuxuan will not voluntarily disclose. Yet he is advanced in age and trapped; if the other side applies pressure…"

"He won't tell everything," the elder abruptly interjected, "I know him. He won't betray his fundamentals, yet he won't resist to the end. He will selectively disclose some; that's his way of dealing with the world."

He stood and walked to the window: "Rescue… truly impossible?"

"Perhaps we could try contacting," Mao Qian paused briefly, "If truly impossible, should we consider…" He did not finish, but his gesture was clear.

The elder suddenly turned, his gaze sharp: "What did you say?"

Mao Qian immediately lowered his head: "I speak for the greater picture. Jing Gong knows a great deal; if…"

"There is no 'if'!" the elder's voice rose sharply, "Jingxing has followed me for over forty years! His father and grandfather for three generations have deep ties with my family! Even if he is trapped there, he would never truly betray!"

The room was so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Jiang Jingguo and Mao Qian dared not speak further.

After a long while, the elder slowly sat back down: "Find a way… to convey a message. No rescue needed, just deliver this: tell him, old friends have never forgotten each other. Take care of his health; if an opportunity arises… I will find a way."

This decision, heavy with emotion, contravened intelligence work principles. Yet Mao Qian dared not object, replying, "As you command, I will arrange it personally."

"Remember," the elder added, "this matter must be kept absolutely secret. If it leaks, the other side will tighten security, and there will truly be no room for maneuver."

Three days later, at Jinling Tiger Bridge Prison. An American‑style Jeep drove into the courtyard, and Li Yuxuan was taken out of the vehicle. He wore a tidy gray cotton Zhongshan suit, his sideburns neatly combed; though his face was gaunt, his back remained straight.

Two Public Security Ministry officers stepped forward; the lead one was in his thirties, wore glasses, and spoke courteously: "Mr. Li, I am Liu Ming, Deputy Director of Section One, Public Security Ministry. I have been ordered to escort you to Yanjing."

Li Yuxuan gave a slight nod.

Liu Ming continued: "The journey will take about three days; a soft‑bed compartment has been arranged. Upon arrival you will stay at the Gongde Lin Management Office. This is a unified arrangement by the Central authorities; please understand."

"Understood," Li Yuxuan said calmly, "When do we depart?"

"Now."

The train headed north, and Li Yuxuan sat alone in the soft‑bed compartment. Outside, the wheat fields of the North China Plain stretched into a golden sea, June sunlight pouring over the ripening waves of stalks. He gazed at the land, recalling the autumn of 1937 when he fled Jinling by train, a time when his heart was filled with endless flames of war, now replaced by a settled calm.

At least the war has ceased. At least many of the old comrades have been settled. At least his son has taken root in the Southern Direction. At least this outcome is far better than originally imagined.

Three days later the train arrived at Yanjing Station. A black sedan drove directly onto the platform, picking him up, passing through Chang'an Street, passing Zhengyang Gate, and finally stopping in front of a gray‑walled courtyard outside Desheng Gate.

A wooden sign by the gate read: Gongde Lin Management Office.

The late‑summer wind brushed the tips of the locust trees; cicada cries rose like a tide, then gradually subsided.