cicada

Chapter 1519 The Hidden Opponent

The morning after the arrests, newspapers from both parties, including the Kuomintang's Central News Agency and the Northwest's New Hua Daily, published an article on strengthening the united front against Japan.

In the article, the Northwest side objectively evaluated the contributions made by the Kuomintang in resisting the Japanese invaders, and the words were very sincere.

However, the underground party also put forward its own demands and suggestions, such as that the trials of traitors must be conducted in open court, and that reporters and citizens should be allowed to attend the hearings.

Furthermore, although neither party directly mentioned American interference in the internal affairs of the Republic of China, both parties praised Red Russia, especially its achievement in defeating Germany, in a rather ambiguous manner.

Zuo Zhong put down the newspaper, leaned back in his chair, and smiled. Now the pressure was on the Americans; let's see how Washington handles it.

His counter-strategy against Adams was to respond to public opinion with public opinion and to the will of the people with the will of the people.

In terms of propaganda and struggle, the writers of the Northwest are far superior to the intellectuals of Chongqing. As for the Americans who are not familiar with the situation in the Republic of China, they are even more capable. Such good helpers cannot be ignored.

Therefore, after consulting with Lao Dai and someone else, Zuo Zhong personally went to the Northwest Office and successfully gained their understanding and support.

That's normal. The two brothers can fight however they want behind closed doors, but when facing bandits, they naturally have to join forces to fight together.

Zuo Zhong looked out at the noisy street scene and relaxed a little. Suddenly, there was a knock on his office door, and Wu Chunyang walked in with a junior agent.

"Lieutenant, this is Wu Dahui, the person in charge of the operation to arrest Fang Zhanbo last night. He has important information to report to you."

Upon entering, Wu Chunyang introduced the junior agent's identity to Zuo Zhong, and Wu Dahui stepped forward, bowed, and began to report.

"This subordinate greets the Vice-Sir. During the arrest operation, Fang Zhanbo's wife shouted something, and I suspected that she had someone backing her, so I sent people to keep a close watch on her."

Hearing this, Zuo Zhong glanced at Wu Dahui's face and casually asked, "What did that woman shout?"

“Indahhunie.” Wu Dahui remained silent for a moment before replying in a strange language.

(Congratulations to the readers 凭窗观雨, 清风~逝, and xrock寒士 for answering correctly.)

Zuo Zhong tapped his fingers lightly on the table, but after thinking for a long time he still couldn't figure out what language it was, so he had to look up at Wu Dahui again.

Wu Dahui understood immediately and whispered, "Reporting to the Vice-Sergeant, this is the language of the mites, it means 'help'."

Upon hearing this, Zuo Zhong paused in his tapping motion on the table. Countless guesses popped into his mind. Finally, he asked the other person a question: "Are you from the Hurha tribe? The Wuzhala clan or the Kuyala clan?"

"Reporting to the Vice-Sir, it is Kuyala." Wu Dahui lowered his head, his body trembling slightly.

Wu Chunyang, standing to the side, looked puzzled, wondering what the two meant by mentioning the Hurha tribe, the Wuzhala clan, and the Kuyala clan.

With a sizzle, Zuo Chong stood up, the chair scraping against the floor with a screeching sound. He slowly walked to the window, picked up the flower shears, and began pruning the bonsai branches while muttering to himself.

"The Hurha tribe was part of the Donghai Jurchen (not a misspelling). After the establishment of the Republic of China, in order to avoid being hunted down, many Jurchen people of the Wuzhala and Kuyala clans changed their surnames to Wu and Hu."

Wu Chunyang was taken aback. Because of the banner that the late president raised when he started his army, there were very few former members of the Kuomintang military intelligence or even key agencies of the Nationalist government. Wu Dahui's file also showed that he was Han Chinese. How could the other party be a Jurchen?

With a forceful pull from his left hand, the sharp shears snapped a branch in two. With a snap, Wu Dahui's body jolted, and goosebumps rose on the back of his neck.

The wall clock ticked away. Zuo Zhong tilted his head, examining the bonsai as if searching for the next spot to make a cut, and continued to ask, "How did you pass the inspection?"

Wu Dahui mustered his courage and said, “Reporting to the Vice-President, my grandfather once followed the late President to Japan as a bodyguard to participate in the memorial service. In order to avoid trouble, the late President changed the family records to Han Chinese.”

His voice was loud, as if he were trying to embolden himself or to emphasize something.

Wu Chunyang suddenly realized why Wu Dahui was able to join the Military Intelligence Bureau. It turned out that the other party had connections here. But were there also remnants of the previous dynasty who participated in the rebellion? Wouldn't this be turning into a rebellion against themselves?
Perhaps anticipating his doubts, Zuo Zhong's voice followed: "Many of the former dynasty's remnants participated in the rebellion, such as Mr. Bao Huanan and Mr. Song Yusong. They were not rebelling against themselves, but against a rotten feudal dynasty."

“Those royal nobles and ordinary former dynasty remnants are not in the same class. While the upper class of remnants are indulging in pleasure, the lower class of remnants are still starving.”

"In the words of the Northwest propaganda, it was a national crisis, but even more so a class crisis. Anyone who is oppressed has the right to stand up against injustice and exploitation."

(Everyone understands, those who know, know. Read and cherish, and some of it is true.)

Wu Chunyang nodded. In order to understand the thoughts in the Northwest, he had also studied the books of the underground party in depth, and immediately understood what Zuo Chong meant.

Wu Dahui, however, said with unusual excitement: "The previous dynasty called us the Wild Jurchens. For hundreds of years, they have continuously conscripted members of their tribes to participate in wars, and many tribes have almost lost all their able-bodied men."

“These bastards also demanded that we pay tribute regularly, handing over tiger skins, pearls, sable furs, otter furs, and deer skins, which cost countless people their lives.”

"My great-grandfather died in the forest because of this, and his body was never found. The hatred for the murderer of my father is irreconcilable. So after hearing about the late president's story, my grandfather went south to join the Geming Party." His account was only a few sentences long, but Wu Chunyang knew the difficulties involved. How a former dynasty's remnant found the Geming Party and gained their trust must have been a long story.

Zuo Zhong put down the flower shears, took the handkerchief handed to him by Wu Chunyang and wiped his hands. His gaze towards Wu Dahui softened, and he turned to ask about the results of the interrogation of Fang Zhanbo and his wife.

"Has the suspect confessed? Does Fang Zhanbo know that his wife is a remnant of the previous dynasty?"

Wu Chunyang bowed and reported: "Fang Zhanbo confessed everything before even entering the interrogation room, but he did not know the true identity of his wife, Jin Sanmei. As for Jin Sanmei herself, she is very stubborn and has remained silent since being arrested."

"According to our investigation, her household registration is in Fuling. Her parents passed away in 1926. She has no other relatives or friends. Neighbors testified that her family has been living in the area for decades."

Zuo Zhong fell into deep thought. Jin Sanmei's surname was quite interesting. He stepped towards the door and called to Wu Chunyang and the other man, "Let's go see the detention center."

The three of them went downstairs and quickly arrived at the underground detention center. The air was filled with the smell of blood, and the cells on both sides of the corridor were filled with prisoners covered in wounds.

"Help! Help! I am a friend of your country, you can't kill me!"

As someone passed by, an English voice rang out from one of the cells. The person making the call was Konida, the OSS representative stationed in the Republic of China who had been secretly arrested in Nanjing and later sent to Chongqing.

His shout caused the other prisoners to beg for mercy, their cries creating a cacophony that was quite unsettling.

Taking the opportunity, Wu Chunyang complained: "Konida has confessed, and I have handed over the relevant intelligence to FIRC for investigation and verification. The suspects arrested this time are also very honest and will answer any questions. But we don't have enough cells. Vice-Commander, could you allocate some funds?"

Zuo Zhong wasn't surprised at all. How much backbone could you expect from a bunch of public intellectuals? He stretched out his right hand toward Wu Chunyang and uttered a single word: "Gun."

Wu Chunyang quickly took off his sidearm and handed it over. Zuo Zhong took it, pulled the slide, and walked deeper into the detention center, raising his right hand to aim at Koenida behind the iron bars.

"Bang bang bang bang."

Konida fell to the ground after being shot several times, while Zuo Zhong continued forward without looking back, using both hands to execute the Japanese and puppet spies on both sides one by one.

These traitors have been imprisoned for months or even years and have long lost their intelligence value. Rather than spending money to keep them, it would be better to kill them all and empty the prison.

As soon as Zuo Zhong finished a magazine, Wu Chunyang immediately brought him a new one. Gunshots rang out one after another, and the detention center became extremely quiet. The prisoners who had just been arrested and their families huddled in the corner, trembling with fear.

Living in a chaotic world, they had certainly witnessed killing, but what was most frightening was that the other party didn't even blink when firing a gun.

After clearing out dozens of people, Zuo Zhong walked to the interrogation room where Jin Sanmei was being held. He casually tossed a pistol to Wu Chunyang and gave another order.

“Bring Fang Zhanbo over here, let the couple see each other one last time. Chunyang, do you think I’m being too soft-hearted?”

Wu Chunyang grinned: "Vice-Commander, you are known for your kindness and benevolence. Everyone in the Military Intelligence Bureau knows that. I will go and bring the men right away."

Wu Dahui's lips twitched as he raised his hand and pushed open the interrogation room door. Zuo Zhong stepped in, and Song Minghao, who was asking questions, and the recorder immediately stood up to greet him.

Zuo Chong waved his hand and plopped down on the stool. Jin Sanmei, who was opposite him, heard the noise and looked up at him with all her might.

In just one night, Jin Sanmei was completely transformed. Her face and body were covered in wounds, and several of her fingernails had been pulled out. Song Minghao and the others were clearly not idle.

On the other hand, the fact that this woman could remain silent during this level of interrogation shows she's a formidable character.

Zuo Zhong lit a cigarette and slowly advised the other party: "Jin Sanmei, right? Now that you've come to the Military Intelligence Bureau, I advise you to be smart. There's no use in pretending. It's better for everyone to confess sooner rather than later."

Jin Sanmei stared coldly at Zuo Zhong, her attitude even more forceful than that of the Japanese spies.

That's how interrogations work; once you get past the first round of torture, it takes several times the effort to get the prisoner to talk again.

Zuo Zhong did not get angry, but patiently waited for another guest to arrive. The cigarette butt glowed red with each breath he took, and the smoke gradually dissipated.

A few minutes later, Wu Chunyang entered the room and threw Fang Zhanbo to the ground. The guy's legs were as weak as noodles, and he couldn't stand up even after several attempts.

Seeing her husband in such a wretched state, Jin Sanmei finally reacted. She spat and muttered "good-for-nothing" under her breath.

"Hehe, Mr. Fang." Zuo Chong politely made a request to Dr. Fang: "Help me persuade your wife, otherwise you two will both die."

He uttered those three words slowly and deliberately, then crossed his arms and began to watch the spectacle. Fang Zhanbo, as if waking from a dream, practically rolled over and pounced at Jin Sanmei's feet, clinging tightly to her leg.

Bibala Zuozhong~ But this seems to be Mongolian.