Chapter 41: Ruyu's Call

In the evening, Song Yinge sneaked into the White Deer Bookstore.

"How on earth did you discover Zhao Rui's identity?" Old Zhao asked.

"It was purely by coincidence. Dai Li gave me an assignment to screen for Japanese spies lurking within the Secret Service. Suspecting Zhao Rui, I secretly tailed her. Who would have thought she turned out to be our own comrade?" Song Yinge said with a wry smile.

Before seeing Zhao Rui's superior, Song Yinge had no way of confirming her identity. But discovering that her superior was Old Zhao genuinely took him by surprise.

"Strictly speaking, you have already violated discipline. Lateral contact among undercover operatives is strictly prohibited, not to mention that you also found out her cover identity," Old Zhao said gravely.

"Although it was an unintentional mistake, I am willing to accept any punishment," Song Yinge said earnestly.

"The fact that you recognize the gravity of the situation brings me some relief. However, you needn't worry; I have already reported this matter to the organization. The organization has decided not to penalize you," Old Zhao said with a smile.

Song Yinge was overjoyed. "Thank you, Old Zhao. I'll treat you to a meal sometime."

"Cut out that Secret Service nonsense," Old Zhao scolded sternly before bursting into laughter.

"What is to be done about Zhao Rui, then?" Song Yinge asked.

Upon learning that Zhao Rui was one of their own, Song Yinge had mixed feelings. The joyous part was that he was no longer alone, no longer fighting a solitary battle. Knowing comrades existed, even if they never exchanged words in daily life, offered a profound sense of solace. The worrisome part was that, according to organizational principles, in situations like this, Zhao Rui would most likely be ordered to withdraw.

"Nothing has been decided yet. If you have any thoughts, you can voice them, and the organization will take them into consideration," Old Zhao said.

"There are pros and cons. Arranging for a comrade to infiltrate the Secret Service is no easy task. If Zhao Rui does not withdraw, and with me already here, there will be two undercover operatives within the Secret Service headquarters, making operations much more convenient. However, should one person be exposed, the other will inevitably be plunged into mortal danger. The final decision rests entirely with the organization," Song Yinge said.

"I will relay your considerations to the organization. By the way, what about that hundred thousand yuan you mentioned last time?" Old Zhao asked sheepishly.

He had genuinely swallowed the promise Song Yinge had fed him previously.

Calculating the time in his head, Song Yinge replied, "It should be within these next few days. Don't worry, a word spoken by me is as good as gold."

"That's good, that's good." Recently, the task of raising funds had been stressing Old Zhao to the point of near-baldness.

"Chen Xunlei's injuries have improved slightly, so he was transferred to the Northwest. He left yesterday," Old Zhao said.

"Though he has suffered greatly, as long as he is alive, that is what matters," Song Yinge said with relief.

"He asked me to pass along a message to you," Old Zhao said.

"What message?" Song Yinge asked curiously.

"He said your methods are far too ruthless, and told you not to forget him. The next time he sees you, he will definitely drink you under the table," Old Zhao said.

It was the first time Song Yinge had ever heard of anyone planning to drink him under the table, and he couldn't help feeling a flicker of anticipation at the prospect of matching drinks with Chen Xunlei. Yet, a trace of melancholy followed immediately after.

He knew it would be difficult for the two of them to ever meet again. Perhaps their next reunion would be in the martyrs' cemetery.

Leaving the White Deer Bookstore, Song Yinge returned to Tianyin Alley. To his surprise, someone was waiting outside his small courtyard.

"Zhao Yaobang? What brings you here?" Song Yinge asked upon recognizing the visitor.

"My brother sent a telegram from Shanghai for me to deliver to you. I didn't dare go to the Secret Service headquarters, so I had no choice but to wait for you here," Zhao Yaobang said.

"How did you know where I live?" Song Yinge asked.

"I'm mute, aren't I? Can't I ask people around?" Zhao Yaobang retorted.

Song Yinge gave him a playful kick in the rear. "Whom did you ask?"

"Sister Meili." Zhao Yaobang rubbed his backside.

He had almost forgotten that the Chen and Zhao families were bound by generations of friendship.

Accepting the telegram, Song Yinge said, "Come inside and rest a while."

Naturally, Zhao Yaobang didn't decline. Once inside the courtyard, his eyes darted around curiously, taking in his surroundings.

Walking as he read the telegram, Song Yinge muttered, "Mission accomplished, returning on the sixth."

The sixth was tomorrow.

Realizing he was about to become a very wealthy man, Song Yinge was in high spirits. "Come on, I'm taking you out for a proper meal."

Zhao Yaobang eagerly trailed along, beaming.

The next day, upon arriving at his office, Song Yinge summoned Zhang Ke.

"I have a mission for you," Song Yinge said.

"This subordinate guarantees its completion," Zhang Ke replied.

"Do you know Gu Ying from the Telecommunications Section? I want you to keep your eyes glued to her. Remember, this is a classified mission; aside from you, not a second soul must know," Song Yinge instructed.

"Yes, Team Leader," Zhang Ke acknowledged.

Having undergone internal training within the Secret Service, Zhang Ke's professional competence had visibly improved. Tailing someone like Gu Ying was well within his capabilities.

After briefing Zhang Ke, Song Yinge headed down to the interrogation room.

"How is Wang Sheng holding up?" Song Yinge asked.

"He's completely lost his mind," Shen Wei replied.

This fell well within Song Yinge's expectations.

"Where are the wiretapping logs from the past few days?" Song Yinge asked.

Shen Wei brought over a thick stack of papers and placed them on the desk. "Before he went mad, you couldn't squeeze a peep out of him with ten beatings. But ever since he lost his mind, his tongue just hasn't stopped clacking."

Looking at the massive pile of records, Song Yinge knew Shen Wei and his men had indeed put a tremendous amount of effort into the task.

"Everyone has worked hard lately. Here is ten yuan; after off-duty hours, take the boys out for a drink and get some rest." Song Yinge pulled out the money and handed it to Shen Wei.

"Oh dear, Team Leader Song, how could I possibly accept this?" Shen Wei feigned reluctance out of polite modesty.

Finally, yielding to Song Yinge's insistence, the men accepted the money, holding an even deeper respect for Song Yinge in their hearts. At the very least, Song Yinge treated them like human beings, unlike other team leaders who summoned them at a whim and discarded them just as easily.

Picking up the wiretapping transcripts, Song Yinge began flipping through them page by page. Most of the contents were white intelligence of negligible value. The few pieces of green intelligence were carefully read by Song Yinge as well, but they lacked any substantial significance.

Only a single line caught Song Yinge's attention.

"The snow in December is thick, the nights are long, and the school feels like a frozen wonderland. On the 18th, shall we watch the sunset together, alright?"

This sentence seemed to describe the place where Wang Sheng had received training from the Japanese.

Thick snow and long nights—Song Yinge's immediate reaction pointed to the Northeast.

Was the 18th a date? Or was it someone's code name?

Though these fragmentary words offered limited information, they were sufficient proof that Song Yinge's earlier hypothesis—that the Japanese had established a specialized spy training academy—was true.

One day, Song Yinge would find this school, destroy it, and hunt down every single spy it had ever trained, catching them one by one.

Returning from the interrogation room, Song Yinge calculated the time, preparing to head to the railway station to pick up Xu Zhong. However, the office telephone suddenly rang.

"Hello, who is this?" Song Yinge picked up the receiver.

No voice came through the earpiece. Three seconds later, the line went dead.

This was the prearranged signal between him and Ruyu.

"It seems I won't be able to pick up the God of Wealth after all," Song Yinge thought to himself.

With that, he stepped out of Caodu Alley and hurried toward the designated hotel.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, after hanging up, Ruyu licked her lips, a flicker of anticipation dancing in her eyes.

"Let's see where you can run this time."