Chapter 39: Untitled

Over the next two days, Zhang Anping went down the roster he had envisioned, interviewing the trainees one by one to "invite" them to join the special unit.

Call it an invitation, but when an instructor's order comes down, who would dare to disobey?

Aside from the nine individuals he had previously listed, he handpicked another eighteen from the trainees. Counting Zhang Anping himself, the organizational structure of the Shanghai Special Unit was finally complete.

Twenty-eight people might sound like a lot, but once Zhang Anping divided them into six squads, each squad averaged fewer than five members.

Those six squads were:
The Telecommunications Squad, the Intelligence Squad, the Operations Squad, the Investigation Squad, the Transit Squad, and the Logistics Squad.

Zhang Anping reported the structure and the roster to his uncle.

His uncle took one look at the name list and smiled.

Just as he had anticipated, everyone Zhang Anping selected were his own students.

Seeing Zhang Anping lingering there hesitantly, his uncle asked with mock annoyance, "Do you have any other requests?"

With a shameless grin, Zhang Anping pulled the list out from his chest pocket and respectfully handed it to his uncle.

"Hmph! Whenever you need a favor, you treat me like your uncle, but the rest of the time you have no respect whatsoever!"

Grumbling, his uncle unfolded the document.

All of Zhang Anping's requests were itemized there. While they weren't overly excessive, they were certainly cumbersome.

Funds and vehicles went without saying; although expensive, considering that this was essentially establishing another Shanghai Station from scratch, Director Dai could accept it.

However, the weaponry requests left Director Dai utterly bewildered. He demanded, "Why are your requested weapons so eclectic? American-made, German-made, British-made, Japanese-made—you even want Soviet-made ones! You even want three-iron pieces?"

*(Three-iron pieces: the commonly seen dog-tag pistol of the Republican era, a Spanish knockoff of the Browning M1906.)*

Zhang Anping explained, "During operations, they can serve to confuse the enemy and fish in troubled waters."

Zhang Anping had explicitly lectured his students during classes that in behind-enemy-lines operations, firearms must never be uniform, lest the enemy be able to deduce your identity at first glance.

Director Dai must not have paid attention in class—or so went the internal monologue in Zhang Anping's mind.

"Fine, I approve it!" Director Dai continued, "And what is the meaning of this authorization clause?"

"Isn't Station Chief Chen taking away seven of my students? From now on, they belong to the Shanghai Station. I hope you, sir, will grant an authorization that allows me to mobilize them in critical moments," Zhang Anping explained.

While he called it mobilization during critical moments, the underlying essence was to make these seven individuals secretly obey the commands of the Shanghai Special Unit—and the so-called authorization was merely another form of pledging loyalty to his uncle.

One had to admit that Zhang Anping was exceptionally smooth at flattery.

Director Dai naturally understood the subtext behind Zhang Anping's request for authorization. Giving Zhang Anping an appreciative look, he immediately signed the order—the gist of it being that they were to prioritize the orders of Zhang Shihao.

"Any other requests?"

Hesitantly, Zhang Anping said, "There is one more."

"Speak."

"Uncle, if I manage to stir up some trouble down there, will you be able to cover for me?" Zhang Anping asked cautiously.

Director Dai suddenly froze all over.

He seemed to have overlooked something—wasn't his nephew referred to as a plague god by the Party Affairs Office?

"What kind of trouble are you talking about?"

"I have no idea," Zhang Anping replied with an innocent face. "I'm just taking preventive measures."

"Get out!"

Zhang Anping darted behind the door. "Uncle, if anything happens, you've got to cover for me!"

With that, he turned and bolted.

Director Dai stared at the closed office door and muttered to himself, "Unless you're the Monkey King and can punch a hole through the sky, I'll cover for you!"

...

Armed with his uncle's approved slips, Zhang Anping began to "pillage" the general affairs office.

Funds, equipment, firearms, vehicles—he scavenged everything he could lay his hands on. With a father who was practically a god of wealth and the director's official slips in hand, the staff in the general affairs office could only stand by and watch as Zhang Anping swept through like a plague of locusts.

After a thorough raid, Zhang Anping gathered all the supplies he needed, even securing office identifiers such as the special unit's official seal. Two trucks, loaded with the help of the security division and covered with canvas, rolled out from the headquarters.

The special unit was not entering Shanghai openly; they had to infiltrate covertly.

After all, they were going to "snatch food from the tiger's mouth" on Shanghai Station's turf. A special unit with neither roots nor connections, had they dared to march in with grand fanfare—while the Shanghai Station wouldn't dare to sabotage them openly—behind-the-scenes obstacles would have been endless.

Therefore, from the very beginning, Zhang Anping never intended to make a grand entrance. Instead, he dispersed the unit's personnel: excluding himself, the twenty-seven others were split into several groups to travel by train, while the remaining half were divided into groups to escort the supplies to Shanghai.

Though it was merely the relocation of a twenty-eight-man special unit, the miscellaneous tasks involved were considerable. Fortunately, Zhang Anping had the foresight to pull Xu Zhongyi aside to act as his errand boy.

While this fellow fell short in every aspect during evaluations, his logistics skills were truly top-notch—far more professional than Zhang Anping's.

Zhang Anping even felt comfortable enough to send this fellow as the vanguard to scout for a station in Shanghai. With less than a year left before Shanghai fell, the special unit could use this opportunity as a field exercise, learning how to stealthily infiltrate and settle down.

This was yet another reason for Zhang Anping's deliberate low profile.

Don't look at how glorious the Shanghai Station seemed right now; when the time came for them to go underground, they would regret why they had been so flashy in the first place!

After a busy day, he finally dispatched everyone else in the squad, leaving only Zhang Anping and Zeng Moyi.

Unlike the students who could pack up and leave on a whim, Zhang Anping still had an old mother who needed to be "handled." His father, Zhang Guanfu, knew about his trip to Shanghai, but his mother, Wang Chunlian, had been kept completely in the dark by the father-son duo. Since they were leaving for Shanghai tomorrow, he had no choice but to come clean with his mother.

Father Zhang Guanfu was certainly not willing to be the scapegoat for Zhang Anping.

In truth, the elder Zhang was equally reluctant to see his boy go to Shanghai. After spending four years abroad, he had finally hoped and prayed for his return, only for them to face separation again after barely two months.

Yet, since his son had chosen this path, he could only support him with actions.

Well, when it came to dealing with his wife, he chose spiritual support.

Helpless, Zhang Anping had no choice but to turn his sights on Zeng Moyi.

Therefore, he specially bought a few bouquets of flowers for Zeng Moyi. After presenting them, he spun a tale: "We're leaving for Shanghai tomorrow, and my mother wants to throw a farewell dinner for the two of us. What time should we head over to my place tonight?"

"Isn't that inappropriate?" Zeng Moyi was dumbfounded. They were supposed to be work partners who merely posed as a married couple to the outside world. What on earth did meeting the parents have to do with this?

"Oh, come on, a mother can never truly stop worrying about her son. She just wants to ask you to look after me a bit usually—consider it doing a colleague a favor."

Zhang Anping's smooth talk successfully duped Zeng Moyi.

Taking some time out of her schedule, she bought some gifts, intending to bring them when visiting Zhang Anping's home. But when Zhang Anping pedaled over on a bicycle to pick her up, she was utterly stunned.

Zhang Shihao—the bearded, ordinary-looking man in his late twenties—had suddenly grown younger.

The beard was gone, and his perceived age had "dropped" to around twenty.

Most crucially, his appearance gave off a feeling of standing out from the ordinary crowd. How could someone who looked so plain suddenly become so handsome overnight?

Carrying the gifts, Zeng Moyi stood frozen in shock. "You are..."

"Zhang Shihao—though you have to call me Zhang Anping now. That's my real name. Get on the bike."

Zhang Anping smiled warmly. In a daze, Zeng Moyi sat on the back rack, her mind a chaotic blur.

"If I wore this youthful face back at headquarters, it's easy for people to look down on you. Besides, aren't I going to be leading students? If I look around the same age as them, those little rascals won't be easily convinced," Zhang Anping spun a full load of nonsense.

While that was indeed part of the reason, the true motive was that he was constantly preparing for behind-the-enemy-lines activities following the full outbreak of the War of Resistance. After the full-scale war erupted, traitors within the Military Statistics Bureau would be numerous.

High-ranking officials like the current director of the Third Office of the Investigation and Statistics Bureau would defect, and top-tier middle-management figures like Chen Moqun would also turn traitor. If he didn't maintain a disguise in his daily life, there was no guarantee that the Japanese devils wouldn't end up with his photograph.

However, Zeng Moyi knew nothing of future events. After the initial shock, her guard against the man furiously pedaling the bicycle elevated by several levels—though it was already at the highest level to begin with.

This man was terrifying. Having worked alongside him for so long, who could have guessed that what she saw was merely a mask!

Pedaling along, Zhang Anping guessed that Zeng Moyi must have been startled by him.

Yet, this was not the time for a full confession. Let her undergo this baptism of shock; after all, for those in the clandestine front, such scares were merely appetizers.

...

Zeng Moyi followed Zhang Anping to the Zhang residence. The moment Zhang Anping knocked on the door, she was filled with regret—visiting like this was far too rash!

Pulling her thoughts together, she comforted herself:
This is just a mission.

Thinking along those lines, her shyness dissipated. But when Mother Zhang, Wang Chunlian, gazed at her with eyes full of glowing approval, ripples of emotion inevitably stirred within Zeng Moyi's heart.

No matter how one looked at it, this felt precisely like a newlywed daughter-in-law visiting her in-laws!

Fortunately, she had undergone specialized training. She carried herself with poise and grace, constantly positioning herself as Zhang Anping's colleague, using soothing logic to calm her own nerves.

And then...

She realized she had been tricked.

It turned out Zhang Anping hadn't told his mother the truth at all; he hadn't mentioned a word about going to Shanghai!

Watching Mother Zhang shed tears and complain upon learning that her son was leaving for work in Shanghai, Zeng Moyi felt a sudden sting in the corners of her eyes—she was an orphan who had never experienced such maternal love.

Facing his weeping mother, Zhang Anping could only offer soothing words while casting pitiful, pleading glances toward Zeng Moyi for rescue.

Eventually, under Zeng Moyi's comforting words, Wang Chunlian's mood cleared up. After a round of idle chatter, the older woman even began subtly hinting at marriage, dyeing Zeng Moyi's cheeks with a fiery blush of embarrassment.

The dinner lasted two hours. After helping Mother Zhang clear the dishes, Zeng Moyi made ready to take her leave.

Mother Zhang genuinely liked this sensible young woman. Seeing her prepare to leave, the mother began searching herself before finally slipping the jade bracelet off her wrist. Without another word, she pulled Zeng Moyi's hand and slid the bracelet onto her wrist.

"It's Anping's blessing to find a girl like you. This jade bracelet was given to me by Anping's grandmother, and now I'm passing it to you."

"Anping has been spoiled rotten by me. If you suffer any grievances in the future, just tell me, and I'll stand up for you! Auntie will never let you suffer any wrongs, understand?"

Holding Zeng Moyi's hands, Mother Zhang chattered on endlessly. Zeng Moyi felt a mix of touching warmth and awkwardness, ultimately having to cast a silent plea for help to Zhang Anping. Zhang Anping nodded, signaling her to keep the bracelet.

Finally, Zhang Guanfu could no longer stand it and intervened. "It's getting late. Don't keep the child any longer. Anping, walk Miss Zeng back; you have to catch a train early tomorrow morning."

Thus granted her "release," Zeng Moyi shyly thanked Mother Zhang and departed the residence under Zhang Anping's escort.

...

October 1, 1936 (the 25th Year of the Republic).

Having restored his original appearance, Zhang Anping left home early in the morning amidst his mother's lingering, reluctant admonitions.

Picking up Zeng Moyi along the way, the two boarded the train bound for Shanghai at the capital's railway station.

On the train, Zhang Anping dropped a remark that left Zeng Moyi utterly bewildered:
"Moyi, this date carries profound significance."

At the exact same time Zhang Anping and Zeng Moyi boarded the train, Chen Moqun, accompanied by seven students from the special training class, arrived at the Nanjing Inspectorate.

"Station Chief Chen, the prisoner Wang志 is yours. Please sign."

Chen Moqun glanced at the trembling, spectacled man and revealed an unfathomable smile.

My mysterious opponent, you could never have imagined that the courier who slipped through my fingers has ultimately landed in my hands once more!

Next, let us play another round and see whose move proves superior!

*(End of this volume.)*

*(To brag a bit, I can finally update on a stable schedule again. How about throwing some votes my way?)*