Chapter 4: "Katyusha" and the Proposal
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At night, Zhang Anping, disguised once again, knocked on Cen Anyan’s door.
Cen Anyan, who had been waiting for Zhang Anping, quickly opened the door, but the woman standing there left him utterly flustered—she was a woman with a strong aura of the streets, though quite attractive, dressed in a cheongsam and high heels, the standard ensemble. Even from a meter away, the scent of cheap perfume was unmistakable.
Startled, Cen Anyan shivered and tried to step out quickly, fearing an inexplicable situation might arise.
“Oh? Feeling shy…” The ‘woman’ reached out to touch Cen Anyan’s chest. Cen quickly dodged but was grabbed firmly by her. Then, she whispered into his ear:
“Teacher Cen, it’s me, Zhang Anping.”
Cen Anyan, a man of integrity who wanted to call for help but found no escape, was dumbfounded.
If it weren’t for his scholarly composure, he would have blurted out:
“Damn it!”
Lowering his guard, Cen glanced furtively to either side and quickly closed the door behind him.
The cross-dressing master Zhang Anping was already sitting on a chair, alluring in his cheongsam. He crossed one leg over the other, holding his collar with his left hand, fanning the inside of his garment with a fan in his right, complaining:
“I really don’t understand why women love wearing high heels so much—they’re killing me with these!”
Cen Anyan looked helplessly at the ‘courtesan’: “You… you…”
Old Cen was at a loss for words; his reputation was probably ruined.
Zhang Anping gave Cen Anyan a coquettish wink and said with a smile:
“From now on, I’ll come to see you dressed like this. No one will say a thing!”
After the initial annoyance, Cen Anyan scrutinized this cross-dressing master more carefully. The more he looked, the more amazed he was; there was no trace of Zhang Anping’s usual self. If it weren’t for the voice, he would have sworn the person was a woman!
Truly remarkable!
“Your makeup skills are incredible!”
Zhang Anping smiled silently. Could they not be? It was a mid-level makeup technique exchanged for 50 points!
If this were the modern era, with beauty filters on, this live-streaming persona could easily be a top-ranking streamer, ready to cash out and run at any time.
Cen Anyan got to the point: “Comrade Zhang Anping, after careful consideration by the organization, your official membership has been approved!”
“That’s great!” Zhang Anping was overjoyed; he had worried that the organization might require further trials.
Now that he was officially in, he got down to business:
“Teacher Cen, I have to go to Nanjing tomorrow. I probably won’t be able to come back to Shanghai for a while.”
“Going to Nanjing? Is there a plan?”
“Yes. At my request, my uncle might set up another spy training class similar to the Honggongci Special Training Class. I’ll be teaching there—I want you to provide me with a list of ideologically sound, progressive students. I’ll try to get them all into the training.”
Cen Anyan was startled: “Students? All of them?”
“I’m going to recommend that the training class recruits from students. Also, it’s best if they focus on sketching and drawing for a while. I’ll use that as an excuse to help them pass the screening.”
Cen Anyan hesitated but still promised: “I’ll do my best.”
“It’s mandatory!” Zhang Anping explained, “The Honggongci training class ran three sessions, and the agents produced have become the backbone of the intelligence bureau. The new training class’s agents will surely be heavily utilized, so we must have our people.”
“I understand.”
“I just opened a company called ‘Global Pan-Trade Company’ that’s now recruiting. The organization should send someone to infiltrate it. It’s not well-known yet, so it won’t be hard to get in. I won’t meddle with the specific list. This company will be involved in pharmaceuticals, medical equipment, arms trade, and will likely connect with the intelligence bureau. We need to establish a foothold early.”
Cen Anyan, recalling the voice mentioned in Zhang Anping’s financial report, immediately understood Zhang’s intentions and nodded decisively.
Zhang Anping asked again: “How will I contact you after I return to Nanjing?”
“I’ll come to Nanjing as soon as possible and find you. Give me your address, and I’ll write to you under my real identity.”
“No problem.” Zhang Anping wrote down his home address and asked, “Teacher Cen, do I have a codename?”
“Not yet—do you want to choose one?”
“‘Katyusha.’ Let’s use that.”
“‘Katyusha’? That sounds like a Soviet name.”
At this time, the rocket launcher representing righteous justice from heaven hadn’t yet been unveiled, so the name Katyusha was not widely known.
“A codename,” Zhang Anping didn’t elaborate. He chose it mainly because, in critical moments, he could bluff the enemy—claiming the codename belongs to a woman would help deflect suspicion.
Of course, seasoned operatives wouldn’t be so easily fooled, but even a slight misdirection was worth it!
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“All right!” Cen Anyan didn’t overthink it. Seeing that Zhang Anping had finished the serious talk, he stood up and extended his hand: “Comrade Katyusha, shall I see you off?”
“Wait a moment!”
Zhang Anping smiled slyly and went over to the bed, rhythmically shaking it. Cen Anyan’s vision darkened, thinking: This time, I really can’t clear my name!
After shaking the bed for two minutes, Zhang Anping beamed: “Teacher Cen, shall I go now?”
“You…”
Cen Anyan wanted to keep him longer—at least shake the bed a bit more!
Zhang Anping fanned himself flirtatiously, lingered for a moment, said goodbye to Cen Anyan, and swaggered out, swaying his hips, muttering something along the way—any experienced person could guess what.
Yes, this was the perfect excuse for Old Cen to resign!
Zhang Anping thought to himself: I really am a genius!
Cen Anyan was left in tears; he… could never clear his name.
...
Clack-clack-clack—
The train rocked gently across the unpolluted earth.
In the compartment, Zhang Anping skillfully spun a pen, checking over the proposal he had written.
Opposite him, his uncle watched his earnest nephew with interest, smiling: “They say a clear plan in mind enables swift writing. You finished the proposal I asked for so quickly—did you already have a draft?”
When it came to serious matters, Zhang Anping was no longer casual with his uncle. He replied formally:
“Yes—since I encountered the FBI spy school, I’ve been thinking about adapting their system to fit our country.”
“Adapt it to our country?” His uncle was puzzled.
“Yes.” Zhang Anping nodded to confirm. “The national circumstances differ, so it must be changed to suit China. It can’t be copied verbatim, or it won’t work—take infiltration, for example. The FBI focuses more on evidence gathering, but we emphasize intelligence and operations.”
“And the curriculum—I’ve listed everything here. Director, please take a look.”
Hearing Zhang Anping’s last address, Zheng Yaoxian barely lifted an eyelid.
A sly fox who never drops a detail even in casual chatter—could he not understand this?
His uncle was very pleased. He had worried that his nephew, after joining the intelligence bureau, might not know when to be cautious and might abuse his connections with him and his father, acting recklessly as young men often do.
But unexpectedly, this nephew was perceptive, already addressing him as Director—the significance was clear.
“Since you say so, I’ll give your proposal a thorough review.”
Taking the proposal, his uncle read it slowly.
To his surprise, he spent a full hour reading it!
He was not only interested but also deeply moved.
In 1927, he joined the secret reconnaissance unit; in 1932, he became director of the intelligence bureau under the Revival Society and founded the Honggongci Special Training Class.
However, the Honggongci class was essentially makeshift.
He lacked sufficient authority; although it was meant to train intelligence personnel, he wasn’t the ultimate decision-maker.
Though some subjects were established based on his advice, he always felt something was missing.
The class ran for three sessions and then stopped. He felt no great regret. Though it produced some talent, it was but a drop in the ocean for the growing intelligence bureau.
Previously, the Zhejiang Police Academy he led was absorbed by the Central Police Academy. The special police training class supplying agents to the bureau was uncertain in its future and didn’t align with his philosophy.
He had been considering how to establish a new training class but, busy with affairs and lacking good suggestions from subordinates, had put it aside.
Unexpectedly, when he met his nephew, he received an almost perfect school proposal!
He finally realized what the special training class had lacked:
Professionalism!
Zhang Anping repeatedly emphasized professionalism in the proposal, stating that all work and professions require it. He pointed out that if a Sino-Japanese war broke out, intelligence agents would be everywhere, and the more professional they were, the more valuable.
Professionalism is not innate; it must be cultivated.
Hence, he proposed subdividing subjects and categorizing agents by their roles.
He divided intelligence personnel into six types:
Communications, Interrogation, Espionage, Operations, Logistics, and Infiltration.
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“Let professionals handle professional tasks.”
This concept permeated the proposal. It stressed that agents need not be all-rounders but must excel in their specialized subjects, adhering to the principle of quality over quantity—this is dictated by the nature of intelligence work.
Any intelligence operation results from close cooperation among one or more teams; there must be no impostors.
Regarding recruitment, Zhang Anping insisted on selecting from students for three reasons:
1. Students have a higher educational level and adapt more easily to new things.
2. Students are more open-minded and patriotic.
3. Students lack the troublesome traits of social riffraff and are easier to train.
After a long pause, his uncle finally spoke but asked an unrelated question:
“Do you look down on social riffraff?”
Zhang Anping sat up straight and answered:
“No! I don’t discriminate against anyone! Even many scoundrels may have a patriotic heart. But I reject them because they lack professionalism. Even with training, their bad habits are hard to change. Take someone like Hong Qingzhi; I admit many among them love the country, but for the intelligence system, they are suitable only as informants, not as core personnel.”
His uncle pondered and asked, “If I handed recruitment over to you, what would you do?”
“Director, I don’t recommend giving recruitment to me,” Zhang Anping surprised them with his answer.
“Why?”
“I wrote the proposal and will teach at the training class. If I recruit, these people become my own. As a soldier, having loyal followers is normal, but too many proteges can be harmful.”
Zhang Anping stated frankly: “War is imminent. The intelligence bureau must have a unified will! That will is yours!”
Zheng Yaoxian glanced at Zhang Anping from the corner of his eye. This man would surely become the director’s most trusted aide—just for that statement alone!
His uncle was overjoyed. Everyone likes to work with their own people because they carry out their will, but often those insiders abuse power while the sensible ones are few.
This nephew was clearly the sensible kind—very sensible indeed!
After thinking, his uncle asked, “How many trainees do you think are appropriate for the first session?”
“For Communications, Interrogation, and Logistics, fewer people are needed. The more people in Operations, the better. Espionage and Infiltration complement each other and can be combined initially, with separate classes later. Since it’s the first session and we’re feeling our way, I suggest three classes of Communications, Interrogation, and Logistics, about twenty people each.
Operations would have two classes, forty people each.
Espionage and Infiltration combined would be one large class, about eighty people.
That totals 220 people, but considering attrition, I think recruiting around 260 is appropriate.”
Zhang Anping gave his conservative estimate.
Two hundred sixty?
His uncle stared at him. This number exceeded his expectations—not because it was too high, but because it was too low!
“Don’t you think that’s too few?”
“In the initial phase, it’s unnecessary to have too many. A smaller boat is easier to steer.”
A smaller boat is easier to steer?
His uncle never expected such calmness from his nephew—most people, when seeking power, tend to talk grandly, but this nephew was so steady.
He grew even more fond of him.
Yet he didn’t agree immediately, saying instead:
“I’ll think about it. I’ll think about it.”
Zhang Anping wasn’t impatient and didn’t press further—he understood moderation, and his uncle was clearly interested; otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked so many questions.
The phrase “I’ll think about it” was just a superior’s way of managing subordinates.
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