Chapter 13: Destiny

“Extra! Extra! Emperor Hirohito of the island nation dies outside the Imperial Palace!”
“Extra! Extra! The Lone Ranger victorious—shoots Emperor Hirohito dead with a single shot!”
“Extra! Extra! The emperor of the island nation meets a tragic end outside the palace!”
...
...
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The cries of the newspaper boys in the French Concession of the Magic City stopped people mid-breakfast, their food halfway to their mouths.
Even the shoe shiners paused, and passersby halted in their tracks.
For a moment, everyone around became as still as statues.
A few seconds later, an elderly shoe shiner snapped out of it. Without a glance at his customers or his stall, he jumped up and ran toward the newsboy, shouting, “Give me a paper!”
His shout jolted everyone back to their senses, and in an instant, they rushed toward the newsboy, caring for nothing else.
In the blink of an eye, the hundred-odd newspapers in the boy’s hands were snatched up. Those who were slower had to shout offers of triple or quadruple the price to buy from others, or squeeze in to read over someone else’s shoulder, or dash for distant newsstands.
One noodle stall owner, glancing left and right, squeezed through the crowd to find the shoe shiner who had gotten the first paper.
“Old Ma, you can’t read—let me buy that paper off you. I’ll pay three times the price, and I can read it out loud for you,” the noodle stall owner said, eyeing the paper in Old Ma’s hands.
Old Ma immediately tucked the paper away, as if afraid the noodle seller would snatch it.
“I may not know how to read, but I can put this on my family’s shrine.
A paper like this, placed on my Ma family’s altar—that would be our honor.”
“Well then, let me take a look—just a look, and I’ll give it back. How about it?” the noodle stall owner pleaded.
Old Ma hesitated, then said, “But you’ll have to read it to me.”
“Deal, deal.”
Only then did Old Ma hand the paper over.
When Li Wensheng shot Hirohito, there were over forty witnesses outside the palace.
No matter how hard they tried to keep it quiet, the western spies, lured by money, uncovered the truth that very night—Hirohito had been assassinated.
So the next day, newspapers in the French Concession of the Magic City ran the story. Before long, the Old Man received word.
Upon hearing the news, the Old Man was just as stunned as the street folk of the city.
It was a long while before he recovered, and then he asked hurriedly, “Are we sure the news is true?”
He knew that once the French Concession papers reported it, it was most likely real.
But he had always thought the man would be caught; he never imagined the assassin would escape and actually kill Hirohito. For a moment, he struggled to accept it.
The head of the Attendant’s Office quickly said, “Director, that’s what the French Concession papers are reporting. We can’t be sure it’s true.”
Qian Dajun also understood: the French Concession’s reports wouldn’t be wrong, but seeing the Old Man in this state, he could only answer this way, to save face.
By now, the Old Man had accepted the reality and broke out in loud laughter.
“Ha! Ha! Good! Good! Ha ha ha...”
After his laughter subsided, the Old Man recalled something and immediately ordered Qian Dajun, “Quick, get Bulei to draft an announcement and spread the news at the front lines.
And you—your operations section must draw up a battle plan immediately.
With Hirohito dead, the enemy’s morale will plummet. I want to catch them off guard!”

“At once, sir.”
After Qian Dajun left, the Old Man laughed again.
But after just a couple of chuckles, his expression suddenly changed, his smile vanished, and he frowned deeply.
After a moment’s thought, he picked up the phone and called the Security Bureau.
“Have you received news from the island?”
In the Bureau, Dai Yu responded quickly, “Director, I’ve just learned of it.”
Almost all the agents stationed in the island nation had been wiped out, their radio seized by the enemy. Wang Tianfeng’s group could not get word out about the situation there.
It was only the Magic City station that managed to send a telegram just now, informing him that today’s French Concession papers reported Hirohito’s assassination.
“Hirohito’s death is a monumental event—he is a hero of the Party and the Nation.
No matter how difficult, you must bring his body home.”
Dai Yu’s pupils contracted slightly!
He understood the Old Man’s meaning. The Old Man, seeing Hirohito dead, now feared for his own safety.
Anyone capable of assassinating a head of state—if not loyal to him—must be eliminated!
Otherwise, why would the Old Man specifically demand the return of the corpse, even after Hirohito’s assassination?
“Yes, sir, I understand. I’ll make preparations at once. I’ll see to it personally.”
He deliberately emphasized the word “corpse,” showing he understood.
“Good, you must see this through!”
After the Old Man hung up, Dai Yu did not immediately send more men to the island nation; after all, the assassin would surely be fleeing by now.
The government had been unable to find any trace of him before—he must have already escaped, so sending people now would be pointless.
He thought for a moment and realized that all he could do was wait!
He had no information on the man at all; only when Wang Tianfeng and the others returned with something could he order a pursuit.
With the Old Man’s propaganda efforts, the news of Hirohito’s assassination spread across all of China the next day.
Chinese troops were greatly emboldened, while the enemy was in disbelief. With no official word from above, they refused to accept that Hirohito had been killed by a Chinese.
But their morale had already taken a heavy blow.
Konoe Fumimaro, learning that the French Concession papers in the Magic City had reported Hirohito’s assassination, flew into a rage and ordered the execution of everyone present outside the palace at the time of the emperor’s death!
Seeing the Old Man publicly broadcasting Hirohito’s death all over China, Konoe was left with no choice but to announce that the emperor had died suddenly of illness.
Sudden death from illness—no Chinese believed it, and neither did the Japanese themselves.
On the front lines, when Japanese troops learned the truth from home, some led mass killings of Chinese civilians. Many low-ranking officers, raised to worship the emperor, committed ritual suicide.
The massacres turned many people against Li Wensheng.
Yesterday, he was a hero, his tablet honored on family altars.
Today, he was viewed as an enemy beyond forgiveness!
In their eyes, if Li Wensheng hadn’t assassinated Hirohito, their loved ones would not have suffered at the enemy’s hands.
Unable to retaliate against the enemy, they vented their rage on Li Wensheng.
As many Chinese, eyes red with grief, cursed his name, Li Wensheng boarded a plane bound for Hong Kong.
The moment he boarded, he wanted to flee!

Because he saw Wang Tianfeng and his two companions on the plane as well.
Li Wensheng took a deep breath and made his way toward the three.
He wanted to run, but didn’t—because at the same moment he saw them, they saw him.
If they hadn’t, they might have assumed him dead and never reported it; he could have remained at large, so long as he avoided the Magic City and those who knew him.
But now that they’d seen him, even if he escaped, Wang Tianfeng would report it, his photo would be sent to every branch, and unless he hid out in some rural backwater or remote mountains, he’d be hunted everywhere he went.
“Mr. Kang, what a coincidence, we’re on the same flight,” Li Wensheng said with a smile as he walked up.
“Yes, quite the coincidence. After we land, let’s have a good chat,” Wang Tianfeng replied in fluent Japanese, smiling.
“Of course.”
Li Wensheng nodded and headed for a seat further back.
They landed in Hong Kong a little after six in the evening; dusk was falling.
As soon as he disembarked, Li Wensheng noticed Zheng Yaoxian in the crowd, giving him a half-smile.
Li Wensheng sighed inwardly and walked over to him.
Following Zheng Yaoxian out of the airport, he saw Wang Tianfeng and Zheng Baichuan waiting by a car.
He joined them, and the four drove off together.
Soon, the car pulled up outside a hotel.
Li Wensheng and the three others got out and entered.
On the third floor, Wang Tianfeng sat on a sofa, scrutinizing Li Wensheng’s calm expression.
“Everyone wants to survive. I don’t blame you for not coming back to report in.
I can let you go, because you escaped only after completing the mission.
And the fact that the enemy didn’t circulate our pictures shows you didn’t defect—you still have loyalty to the Party and the Nation.
You’re not one of those cowards who, when faced with danger, betray us just to save their own skin.”
“Thank you, Instructor!” Li Wensheng replied with gratitude, snapping to attention and saluting.
“All right, you’ll come back to Chongqing with us now,” Wang Tianfeng said.
“Yes, sir!” Li Wensheng answered quickly, thinking inwardly, “What is this fate? Am I bound to the Security Bureau, doomed never to escape?”
“You may return to your room,” Wang Tianfeng told him.
“Yes, sir!”
After Li Wensheng left, Wang Tianfeng turned to Zheng Yaoxian and Xu Baichuan. “Well, gentlemen, shall we let him go?”
Xu Baichuan frowned. “We can let him go, but we have to report everything to the Chief. At worst, we’ll plead for him.
He’s from Fenghua, and as you said, he only ran after the mission was done and didn’t defect. The Chief should show some leniency.”
Wang Tianfeng said nothing, looking to Zheng Yaoxian.
“I agree with Fourth Brother,” Zheng Yaoxian said.
Wang Tianfeng simply nodded. “We’ll report to the Chief in Chongqing and let him decide.”