Chapter 15: He Is Definitely a Communist

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The secret service deployed dozens of agents to block 132 Daoshu Street. Yet, they failed to catch their target. It wasn’t until an inside informant from the Party Affairs Office relayed that the person had been brought in through the back door. At this time, the secret service was not yet the formidable Military Intelligence Bureau of later years; lacking the courage to storm the Party Affairs Office, they could only leave with stern warnings and report to higher authorities, who would then figure out how to extract the person—whether successful or not was secondary; what mattered was the appearance of effort.

As for the Party Affairs Office, the secret service’s fierce attempt to blockade the front door caught them off guard. After the person was brought in through the back entrance, the Party Affairs Office quickly dispatched a “visible line” to quietly inform the secret service of the situation. They finally managed to send the secret service away, but trouble brewed next. Simply having the person arrested already provoked such a reaction from the secret service—what if they slapped a label on him...

The senior leaders of the Party Affairs Office began to bury their heads in the sand; no one wanted to take on the task of interrogation. This matter couldn’t simply be dismissed by the secret service, but if they earned the secret service’s enmity, their future would be bleak. Witnessing his underlings’ cowardice, the director’s expression darkened.

At that moment, a slightly overweight agent stepped forward. “Let me try,” he said.

The director smiled warmly upon seeing the agent step up, adjusting his glasses. “Zhan Long, do a good job.”

This agent’s name was Gao Zhanlong. Among the Party Affairs Office’s core group, he was still a mere underling. But ambition stirred within him. Seeing the usually unreachable high-ups retreat and feign ignorance, he saw his chance. Did he not understand the risks? Of course he did! That was precisely why the senior leaders all kept silent! Yet one must take risks to stand out. Realizing this was his opportunity to rise, he dared to step forward.

Just as he expected, no one objected to his volunteering. In fact, after the director left, they all encouraged him, subtly urging him to “do well.” Do well at what? Naturally, to build an ironclad case.

Watching the mid- and high-level cadres leave, Gao Zhanlong’s face grew grim. He murmured softly, “If you don’t do the dirty work, you can’t get ahead! You... must be a Communist!”

---

Interrogation Room.

Zhang Anping was bound to a chair.

All interrogation rooms seemed inherently gloomy. Feeling the chill around him, Zhang Anping revealed an inscrutable smile—could it be they intended to brand him a Communist? Although he was... but perhaps they were overthinking!

Suddenly, the interrogation room door swung open. A slightly plump young man dressed in a Zhongshan suit strode in.

The youth smiled as he fixed his gaze on Zhang Anping. “I thought this would be a big problem, but it turns out the issue was easy to uncover—Zhang Shihao, who exactly are you? All your employment documents are fake! Someone like you could easily pass the secret service’s scrutiny and get the director’s signature to approve your entry? This is beyond my imagination!”

Zhang Anping remained silent.

“Not going to speak? Do you know where you are?” The youth sneered, snapping his fingers. Several agents responsible for executions entered.

“Don’t leave any external injuries. Make him talk. Can it be done?”

“Yes! Captain Gao, don’t forget where we are!” an agent replied with a sinister smile.

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Several agents approached, binding Zhang Anping tightly, then brought out a pile of bricks, demonstrating their use.

The tiger bench!

Zhang Anping’s eyelids didn’t even twitch. He knew all interrogation was psychological warfare; even physical torture aimed to break the mind.

“Begin.”

The young man gave the order, then turned his head, calmly examining the utterly fake documents.

These were the materials Zhang Anping had submitted upon entering the secret service: his résumé, connections—all fabricated, even the address false.

The young man was Gao Zhanlong.

As he scrutinized the papers, his smile widened. The falsity was fine—indeed, the more fake the better! The crucial point was that two directors had signed the documents—how could two directors not have noticed? Yet they not only missed it but bypassed procedures and directly admitted this man into Department Two.

No matter how the director washed his hands of this, the stain couldn’t be erased!

Gao Zhanlong hadn’t expected this to be so easy. He believed this alone was sufficient to drag the Department Two director into the abyss.

Of course, a confession would be even better.

But disappointment followed.

Despite the bricks being piled to the maximum, “Zhang Shihao” did not utter a sound.

Gao signaled the torturers, who understood and began tightening the ropes around Zhang Anping’s neck.

The suffocation triggered an instinctive struggle, but after a brief movement, Zhang controlled himself.

The agents were stunned. They had witnessed countless tortured prisoners but never one who could control his own reflexes so perfectly—suppressing the survival instinct itself!

Unconvinced, the agents loosened the ropes after a while, waiting for Zhang to catch his breath before tightening again.

Repeated several times.

Yet Zhang never struggled. If not for the frantic gasping between intervals, they might have thought him dead.

Gao’s expression remained impassive, but inside he grew increasingly amazed and excited. This man’s reaction to torture suggested specialized training—could he be a high-level Communist mole?

At that moment, an agent suddenly shouted, “Captain Gao, the beard is fake!”

Since entering the secret service, Zhang Anping had maintained a disguised appearance. His self-made props were good, but repeated torture and sweating finally caused half his beard to slip, revealing the ruse.

Gao rushed over and quickly removed all disguises, exposing Zhang’s youthful face.

“So young?”

Gao was momentarily stunned.

Zhang smiled—a blatant provocation in Gao’s eyes.

“You think I can’t get anything from you if you stay silent?” Gao’s calm facade cracked as he growled, “Your documents are fake; you’re definitely suspicious! Department Two opened the door for someone like you—there must be corruption there! You think your silence can protect them?”

“Dream on! Anyone connected to you won’t escape!”

“Wang Datou, don’t hold back. Beat him! Just don’t kill him.”

The torturers, long frustrated, were now given free rein. The tiger bench and noose had failed to elicit a sound or even a defensive move—a grave insult to their professionalism. With Gao’s order, they unleashed their full force, hoisting Zhang up, pouring chili water in his eyes, and whipping him.

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Zhang Anping emitted only a pained groan when the chili water was first applied; the rest of the time, he remained utterly silent despite the lashes.

After watching an hour of torture, Gao realized coaxing a confession would be a monumental task. But with these false documents in hand, he decided to claim credit first.

Signaling the continuation of torture, he left the interrogation room and went straight to the director of Department One.

Gao did not mince words upon arrival. “Director, Department Two might be compromised by Communists!”

Director Xu was startled and rebuked, “Don’t talk nonsense!”

“Director, I’m not lying—look at this!”

Gao respectfully handed over the documents.

Xu glanced briefly and muttered, “The résumé here is clearly problematic.”

“Director, you’re sharp!” Gao flattered. “His résumé, social connections, and address are all fake! He’s been living under a false identity! We’ve tortured him, but he barely made a sound!”

“That alone doesn’t prove he’s Communist, does it?”

“He’s too stubborn. I suspect even with full torture he won’t confess! Such a hard mouth is likely a Communist! The one who signed off on his entry into the secret service must be implicated...”

Gao trailed off.

Xu’s eyes showed no surprise; he had already harbored suspicions upon seeing the flawed résumé.

Still, Xu maintained composure and ordered, “Notify everyone. All mid- and high-level officers gather outside the interrogation room. Also, bring in those who defected from the underground Communist Party to analyze the situation.”

Is he a Communist? Let everyone see for themselves.

Soon, all mid- and high-level cadres of the Party Affairs Office assembled outside the interrogation room.

At this time, there was no one-way mirror; the cadres hid outside, listening to the noises within.

One senior officer, hearing the sounds, angrily exclaimed, “What are they doing? What’s being whipped?”

Gao quickly explained, “They’re really torturing him! Zhang Shihao isn’t making a sound—look.” He pushed the door slightly open. Several cadres peered through the crack, confirming an interrogator was fiercely whipping.

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