Chapter 17: This Was Worth It!
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It is said that the future King of Spies had a rather awkward way of carrying people—utterly uncomfortable. This was Zhang Anping’s sole reflection as he was being carried away.
Though he remained fully conscious, he feigned confusion throughout, repeatedly mumbling the same phrase. This was his guarantee for earning trust later on; the act had to be played to the end!
While pretending to be dazed, he also savored the success of this plan.
Originally, he had only intended to gain some fame within the Intelligence Agency—his pre-training speech, lacking any backing, was bound to invite scrutiny, confinement, and reexamination, but that wouldn’t trouble him.
Such a scenario perfectly fit the image of a patriotic young man!
His initial thought was that after enduring all the investigations by the agency, his identity would be “passively” exposed with a certain level of notoriety, which would help him escape his awkward current situation and perhaps climb the ranks.
He hadn’t expected the future Central Bureau to foolishly jump into the fray.
When he met the Party Affairs Department’s agent, Zhang Anping quickly conceived this method to gain fame and trust.
So far, it was working splendidly; his uncle’s trust was as solid as steel and bronze.
As for fame, he was confident his uncle would be eager to spread tales of his “deeds” and entrust him with important responsibilities.
Causing friction between the Party Affairs Department and the Intelligence Agency was a mere bonus; even without his intervention, the two factions would never coexist peacefully—they were all old foxes who knew exactly what each feared.
“The Intelligence Agency’s situation has now been opened up! From now on, it’s just a matter of climbing the ladder!”
...
His uncle took Zhang Anping to the hospital but dared not inform his cousin.
He was genuinely afraid of his cousin. This time, his nephew had been tortured again, and if his cousin saw him covered in wounds, she would probably want to fight him...
After the doctor’s examination, his uncle inquired, “Doctor, how is his condition?”
The hospital doctors often treated “injured” agents sent by the Intelligence Agency, usually victims of excessive torture; therefore, the doctor replied cautiously, “His physical condition is very poor. There must be no more torture for some time; even slight abuse could risk his life.”
“Is he in any immediate danger?”
The doctor conservatively answered, “His condition is critical. If he can hold on for the next 48 hours, he should survive.”
This was the standard cautious phrasing doctors used when dealing with the intelligence agencies; even if a patient could be saved, they had to understate it to avoid the agents’ unwanted “speculations.”
“We must save him, no matter the cost! If you need doctors or medicine, tell me—I’ll find a way to get them, understand?”
The doctor nodded repeatedly.
“Have Zheng Yaoxian and a few men guard Anping—no harm must come to him, got it?”
“Yes. Director, Section Chief Zhang is here. Shall I let him in?”
His uncle’s head throbbed upon hearing this.
His cousin’s husband was a good man; back when he was in Shanghai, she often scolded him, but her husband always sided with him. Now, their only son was so badly hurt—how could he explain this?
“Let him in—no, I’ll go get him myself!”
Never mind how heartbroken Zhang Guanfeng would be upon seeing his son in such a state.
Meanwhile, inside the Intelligence Agency, news was rapidly spreading.
“Did you know? That Zhang Shihao is actually the director’s cousin’s nephew—the Party Affairs Department wanted to get him to bite the director, but no amount of torture made Zhang Shihao talk!”
“Actually, this time the director deliberately set up the First Bureau! The First Bureau has been too arrogant lately, even trying to boss us around. The director purposely let Zhang Shihao slip up to lure the First Bureau into a trap!”
“Haven’t you noticed Zhang Shihao’s real identity? He’s the son of the god of wealth and the director’s cousin’s nephew!”
“Honestly, no one would’ve guessed! With such a powerful background, he’s just guarding our agency’s gate!”
These rumors kept flying through the Intelligence Agency.
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Earlier in the day, Yao Jiangjie was relieved to have cut ties with Zhang Shihao, but now he almost regretted it—had he known Zhang’s true identity, he’d have served him as a father long ago!
Upon hearing the news, Zheng Yaoxian said earnestly to Xu Baichuan, “Brother Anping narrowly escaped death this time—truly blessed by fate!”
“Isn’t that so?” Xu Baichuan agreed.
But once Xu Baichuan left, Zheng Yaoxian’s expression grew serious.
Zhang Anping was an extraordinary man!
This scheme had shattered the unfavorable situation where the Second Bureau was suppressed by the First, and had earned considerable prestige—if nothing unexpected happened, he would soon rise directly into the Intelligence Agency’s mid-level power circle!
Could all this have been calculated from the start?
Zheng Yaoxian wasn’t sure but believed this man must be reported to his superiors so that the Party could file a dossier on him.
He was cunning, meticulous, and ruthless! Although it had been clear early on that Zhang would make a name for himself in the Intelligence Agency, no one expected it to be so soon.
Other agents familiar with Zhang Anping also engraved the name “Zhang Shihao” deeply into their minds—previously, some thought he just got lucky disrupting the Japanese spy, but this time his performance confirmed that he would inevitably become a powerhouse in the agency.
No one dared to cross him!
Zhang Anping’s desire for fame had come true, just as he predicted.
Next was to reap the benefits.
...
Zhang Anping remained unconscious for three whole days.
Those days were tough; he spent every moment hiding in the system space, practicing his shooting until he felt sick.
For surviving the torture, the system generously awarded him 50 points and recommended a host-specific medicine:
Post-Torture Syndrome Elimination Serum.
[Effect: Completely eliminates all adverse effects caused by torture.]
Zhang Anping was still hesitant to use it and planned to apply it discreetly later.
During this period, he also cleared the difficult dungeon ten times. The first completion granted 100 points, subsequent completions gave 10 points each, but after ten runs, no points were awarded. Then, a hell-level dungeon unlocked.
After ten completions, the hell-level dungeon appeared, named:
“Ten Deaths, No Life.”
Bored, Zhang Anping naturally had to explore what “Ten Deaths, No Life” meant.
Within ten minutes, he was riddled with holes—this was a Werewolf-style roundtable game with thirteen participants, seeking out the traitor through clues.
Yes, he was the traitor.
He thought the game would be simple—just casting blame and suspicion during discussions. But before the first round of speeches ended, he was shot dead in the chaos.
Since there were three chances per day, the stubborn Zhang Anping continued.
Of the next five attempts, three ended because his speech was too erratic, and two because of “insufficient intelligence.”
Yes, truly because of that reason.
Feeling insulted by the system, he protested relentlessly until it finally provided an explanation of the gameplay.
At that point, Zhang Anping gave up.
Because the other twelve players were all logic geniuses with IQs over 180.
“Damn, this is like playing with a bunch of Einstein-level agents?”
Zhang Anping felt both joyful and sorrowful—joyful because sparring with this caliber of NPCs would surely transform him into a seasoned fox; sorrowful because passing might require dying hundreds or even thousands of times...
After lingering in the system space for three days, Zhang Anping felt ready to wake up, finally regaining consciousness and opening his eyes.
...
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“Awake!”
No sooner had he opened his eyes than someone nearby shouted excitedly. Zhang Anping weakly turned his head and saw a familiar agent.
Zheng Yaoxian, who had been dozing on two chairs, jumped down in a flash and hurried over in three quick steps.
“Brother Anping, you’re finally awake!”
Zhang Anping feigned weakness, “Zheng… Brother Zheng.”
“Don’t move, I’ll get the doctor!”
After some frantic commotion, the doctor delivered very good news:
Zhang Anping was recovering well. In a day or two, he could get out of bed, and within ten to fifteen days, he could be discharged.
His body was still affected, and full recovery would require several months of rest.
Once Zhang Anping woke, his ward became like a market—agents from the Intelligence Agency came daily to visit. Familiar faces aside, even those less acquainted greeted him with increasingly flattering titles like “Brother Shihao” and “Nephew Shihao,” leaving Zhang Anping overwhelmed and stiff-faced after three days.
That evening, his uncle finally arrived.
When he entered, Zhang Anping was pacing back and forth in his single room.
Seeing this, his uncle immediately scolded,
“Stop fooling around! The doctor said you need rest! Lie down at once!”
“If I lie down any longer, I’ll rust,” Zhang Anping grimaced, “Uncle, I’m not that fragile.”
“Hmph!” His uncle snorted but said no more. Seeing Zhang Anping reaching for a chair, he pulled it over first, sat down, and said,
“Do you know how dangerous this was? The Party Affairs Department went all out to get your confession!”
“Damn those Party Affairs!” Zhang Anping gritted his teeth, “This isn’t over!”
“Hmph, you want me to give you a gun so you can wipe out the Party Affairs Department?”
Zhang Anping was left speechless.
“I’ve told you time and again to watch your words! You never listen! If you’d been more careful, would you have gotten into this mess?” His uncle scolded with a stern face.
Zhang Anping hung his head listlessly, muttering a weak “yes.”
His uncle couldn’t help but laugh and cry, wondering how he was still the same as when he was a child.
“All right, I won’t scold you anymore—the Party Affairs Department compensated you 500 yuan, and I had your father take it.”
Zhang Anping exploded,
“Just let 500 yuan slide?”
“Don’t even think about it!” His uncle snorted coldly, “A gentleman takes revenge even after ten years! Just wait and see—I’ll make sure the Party Affairs Department doesn’t get away with this!”
Only then did Zhang Anping smile, “Uncle, I knew you were the best!”
His uncle smiled, feeling as if it were ten years ago. After checking the time, he said, “I’ll be going now.”
As he rose, Zhang Anping tried to see him off, but his uncle pushed him back into his chair.
“Rest well—you did very well this time, very well indeed!”
Zhang Anping feigned pride, “It was nothing!”
His uncle smiled silently.
Watching his uncle leave, Zhang Anping’s heart blossomed with joy.
This round was definitely worth it!