Chapter Forty-Nine: The Double Agent

The short journey from Dingjia Bridge to the Bell Pavilion required Zhao Ru to change rickshaws twice. After getting off beneath the Bell Pavilion, she walked on to Drum Tower Park. The Japanese Consulate in Nanjing stood just to its west.

Once inside the park, Zhao Ru made her way confidently to a secluded spot. After looking around and making sure no one was watching, she crouched down and moved aside a broken brick hidden among the bushes.

Beneath it was a small hole barely the thickness of a finger. Zhao Ru placed the intelligence inside, then covered the hole with the brick.

She then pretended nothing had happened, left the park, and returned to her home near Shipo-po Lane.

The first thing Zhao Ru did after arriving home was open the window and place a potted plant on the sill.

The window faced the street, where every passerby could see the plant.

“A double agent—and most likely a Japanese spy. Otherwise, they would never have chosen a dead drop in Drum Tower Park, so close to the Japanese Consulate.”

Song Yingge, who had followed Zhao Ru the entire way, reached his conclusion quickly.

“A Japanese spy embedded in the Party Affairs Investigation Section has been discovered by the Secret Service Bureau. Dai Li will be delighted when he hears the news.”

Although he was ninety percent certain that Zhao Ru was a Japanese spy, he had not actually seen her contact.

Out of caution, Song Yingge returned to the dead drop in Drum Tower Park and retrieved the intelligence Zhao Ru had left there.

When he opened it, the slip of paper was completely blank. Clearly, it had been written in invisible ink.

Though he could not see the message, Song Yingge guessed it probably said something like: Qin Song has been arrested by the Secret Service Bureau. Please verify his identity.

More than two hours later, beneath the night sky, Song Yingge saw someone approaching from a distance.

It was Hiroshi Sugiyama.

Once Sugiyama retrieved the intelligence from the dead drop, Zhao Ru’s identity as a Japanese spy was confirmed.

The small Jinling Hotel had harbored three Japanese agents, one of whom was even a double agent.

The Japanese truly stopped at nothing.

After leaving Drum Tower and returning to Cao Du Alley, Song Yingge hurried to the interrogation room.

Looking at Qin Song, covered in blood, and Ye You and Gu Qiang, who were both panting heavily, Song Yingge had already guessed the result of the interrogation. Nevertheless, he asked, “Well? Did he talk?”

Ye You looked utterly defeated. “The bastard’s stubborn as a mule. We couldn’t pry a word out of him.”

Song Yingge was not surprised.

Neither Liu Yuezhen nor Wang Sheng had been willing to open their mouths.

Song Yingge genuinely wanted to know how the Japanese trained these spies.

“All right. Stop wasting your strength. Put him in solitary confinement. After seven or eight days, he’ll become obedient,” Song Yingge said.

“Lock him up for a few days and he’ll confess?” Ye You asked doubtfully.

“By then he’ll have gone insane and start spouting all sorts of mad nonsense.” Shen Wei lit a cigarette for Song Yingge.

Song Yingge exhaled a ring of smoke. Then, as an idea suddenly struck him, he took out a photograph of Wang Sheng and waved it in front of Qin Song.

“Do you know him?”

A flicker passed through Qin Song’s eyes, but he said nothing.

“He confessed to everything. He even said the two of you were enemies and urged me to make absolutely sure I captured you.”

Song Yingge watched Qin Song’s reaction carefully.

“Bastard. He’s always been a bastard.”

Qin Song was furious.

“I can let you kill him with your own hands. All you have to do is cooperate. What do you say?”

Song Yingge offered him a bargain.

Qin Song fell silent.

“Then die in some dark, damp corner. Wang Sheng, meanwhile, can go on living beneath the sun, enjoying wealth and glory.”

Qin Song began to breathe heavily, his chest rising and falling violently.

At the thought that he was about to die while his enemy would remain free, resentment and hatred rose within him.

The emotions nearly swallowed his reason.

Sometimes, the power of hatred could overcome everything.

“Wang Sheng never told you about Number Eighteen, did he?” Qin Song asked hoarsely.

“No.”

Song Yingge already had a lead concerning Number Eighteen. Even if Qin Song said nothing, he was confident he could find her.

But Song Yingge did not care what Qin Song said. Once he had spoken, there would be countless more opportunities to make him speak again.

“Of course he didn’t. He loved Number Eighteen so much.” Qin Song gave a mocking smile. “Do you want to know where Number Eighteen is hiding?”

“Of course. You know where she is?” Song Yingge asked.

“I don’t know.” Qin Song shook his head. “But I can work it out.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it,” Song Yingge said.

“Do you remember Number Seven, whom you captured at Spring Welcome House?

“A few years ago, Number Seven, Number Eighteen, and Chiyo Toyota graduated together.

“When Number Seven competed with Number Eighteen for a certain assignment, she lost and was sent to infiltrate the International Friendship Society.

“But Chiyo Toyota relied on her Japanese identity and snatched the assignment that should have gone to Number Seven.

“Number Seven could only infiltrate a brothel.

“That assignment had originally belonged to Chiyo Toyota.

“Heh. At school, Chinese people were always a rank below the Japanese.”

Qin Song spoke with undisguised mockery.

“How do you know the details of Number Seven’s and Chiyo Toyota’s assignments so clearly?” Song Yingge asked, puzzled.

By all rights, such infiltration missions should have been kept strictly confidential.

“Number Seven told me before she left.” A look of remembrance appeared on Qin Song’s face.

“You were lovers?” Song Yingge saw the truth.

“Lovers? No. What we shared had already gone beyond love—even beyond family affection. In an environment as extreme as that school, if you couldn’t find something to sustain you spiritually, you wouldn’t last even a day. Number Seven was my spiritual anchor.”

“When Chiyo Toyota was withdrawn, I guessed that something had happened to Number Seven. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do.”

Song Yingge could not understand the bond between Qin Song and Liu Yuezhen, but for him, this was good news.

A Japanese spy with deep emotional attachments was easier to break psychologically.

“Where do you think Number Eighteen went?” Song Yingge asked.

“The place closest to the core of the Nationalist government, even more so than the Jinling Hotel, would be the Tangshan Hot Springs Guesthouse.”

Qin Song gave him the answer.

Song Yingge had actually thought of that place as well.

“Congratulations. You’ve made the right choice. As a reward, I’ll grant you one wish.”

“Tell me how Number Seven died.”

“That’s all you want? Such a humble wish?”

“Tell me.”

“Suicide.”

Qin Song’s face twisted.

“Heh, Number Twenty-Two, I’ll make sure you taste the pain of losing someone dear to you.”

Number Twenty-Two was presumably Wang Sheng’s code name.

“You think Number Twenty-Two was responsible for Number Seven’s death?” Song Yingge keenly detected the emotion in Qin Song’s words.

“If Number Twenty-Two hadn’t cheated for Number Eighteen, how could Number Seven have lost?” Qin Song said through clenched teeth.

“If you knew they had cheated, why didn’t you report them?” Song Yingge asked, perplexed.

“They only cared about the result. The process meant nothing to them.”

“If you suffered so much injustice at that school, why didn’t you resist after leaving it?” Song Yingge asked.

“Resist what? The Japanese will win in the end. All of China will fall. The outcome is already decided. Resistance is meaningless.”

Qin Song was deeply pessimistic.

Song Yingge knew that Qin Song’s beliefs had not formed overnight. More than a decade of conditioning had become an invisible shackle, binding his mind tightly.

“You’ve said all this already. Isn’t that resistance?” Song Yingge asked.

“This isn’t resistance. It’s hatred. Number Twenty-Two, Number Eighteen, and Chiyo Toyota—they were the three who caused Number Seven’s death. I want them dead.”

Song Yingge frowned slightly. He could not understand Qin Song’s thinking.

“The Japanese were the true culprits behind Number Seven’s death. The three people you mentioned were, at most, accomplices. Why don’t you seek revenge on the Japanese?”

“The Japanese fed us, clothed us, and trained us. How could they be the culprits?” Qin Song retorted.

When Song Yingge heard that answer, he realized that although Qin Song was still alive, the person he had once been was already dead.