My spy diary

Chapter 677 Safe House (Seeking Monthly Tickets)
"Almost there, I'll be back in a bit," Qian Xiaosan replied, then looked at the clerk's hurried departure and asked, "Why the rush? What's going on?"

"It's a secret," the monkey said seriously, then looked at him and asked in return, "Aren't you curious?"

Qian Xiaosan said calmly, "I am curious, but discipline is discipline. I don't ask questions I shouldn't ask. I know how to keep that line."

The monkey smiled and said, "Alright, you go ahead with your work, I'll be going now."

The monkey left the judicial office. Qian Xiaosan stood there for a moment, until he was sure the monkey was far away, before he quickly grabbed the water bottle and returned to his office.

At the same time, Zhang Yi, in his office at the Wanglongmen Detention Center, also made a phone call.

On the other end of the phone was He Zhiyuan, who was anxiously waiting with Yang Rong in his office for updates on the search for Zheng Huhe. Zhang Yi said he needed to borrow two capable investigators, preferably with prior experience as a street vendor, ideally a husband-and-wife team.

After hanging up the phone, he said to Yang Rong, somewhat annoyed:
"Isn't he interrogating someone? Why would he need to investigate plainclothes officers?"

Yang Rong was also surprised: "On a field mission?"

He Zhiyuan shook his head, thought for a moment, and then made a phone call. He was happy to do such a cheap favor. As for what it was for, everything would be clear once the plainclothes officers returned.

Yang Rong looked at him warily and asked:

"That's all? Didn't you ask about anything else?"

He Zhiyuan pretended not to understand the implied meaning:

"Others? What do you mean?"

"Stop pretending!" Yang Rong said irritably. "I get nervous whenever I hear the phone, especially at this moment. If the arrest plan goes wrong, we'll both be in deep trouble." He thought for a moment, looked at He Zhiyuan, and said, "How about this, we should report to Boss Dai to avoid difficulties in explaining later."

He Zhiyuan understood his thoughts and sighed helplessly:
"Okay, I have no objection."

Yang Rong then gave up: "I'm relieved to hear you say that. In the end, it's all for the sake of the bureau."

He Zhiyuan said with a smile, "Okay, go ahead and make the call!"

This time, Yang Rong was left helpless:
"Alright, I'll do the job. Move aside!"

The night was deeper.

In the office of the deputy director of the judicial department, Qian Xiaosan, who was still working overtime, glanced out the window, put down the documents in his hand without making a sound, stretched, got up, took his teacup, and left the office.

By this time, there were hardly any people left in the building. Qian Xiaosan strolled leisurely to the door of the archives room, glanced inside, and then pushed the door open and went in.

A desk and chair sat across the room, with registers and documents on it. A row of tall filing cabinets stood neatly arranged not far behind the desk.

There was no one in the room, but the cup on the table was still steaming, and there was a newspaper next to it, as if something was being hidden underneath.

He looked around the doorway and, after confirming that no one was in the corridor, quickly went behind the table, took out two thin wires with hooks, and moved them up and down in the keyhole.

Just as I unlocked the door, I heard footsteps in the hallway.

"Deputy Director Qian? What brings you here?"

The duty officer pushed open the door and saw Qian Xiaosan sitting behind the desk, blowing on his hot tea cup, looking quite surprised.

Qian Xiaosan had already put the lock back on. He slammed his teacup down and asked with a stern face:

What were you doing just now?

"To the restroom."

Qian Xiaosan stood up with a gloomy face:
"Didn't you learn the confidentiality rules? Didn't you lock the door when you left?"

The duty officer jumped in surprise: "I'm so sorry! Deputy Director Qian, it was a momentary lapse of judgment. What brings you here?"

"Do I need to report to you?"

The duty officer noticed that the newspaper had been removed, revealing the romance novel he had hidden underneath, and felt even more guilty.
"No, no, that's not what I meant." As he spoke, he moved toward the desk, trying to secretly hide the novel.

Qian Xiaosan snorted: "No need to hide it anymore. The book is worn out and has tea stains on it. Looks like you've been reading it quite a bit. Slacking off during your shift, openly violating confidentiality principles, aren't you afraid of military law?"

"I only watched for a short while."

"Oh, I wronged you."

"No, no! It was my fault for violating discipline! Director Qian, I promise I won't do it again next time." The duty officer glanced at Qian Xiaosan's expression and continued, "You see, I'm still very careful. I was halfway through urinating when I suddenly remembered that the door wasn't locked, so I quickly pulled up my pants and rushed back."

"Does that mean I should praise you?"

The duty officer remained silent.

"Aren't you going to put the novel away?"

The duty officer hurriedly locked the novel in the drawer, explaining as he did so:

"Director Qian, you see, all the drawers are locked, and I always keep the keys on my person and within my sight, which shows that I am always vigilant."

Qian Xiaosan casually flipped through the register on the table and said nonchalantly:
"Once you're in the inspection office, will you still have a chance to explain?"

The duty officer was taken aback: "The Inspection Office?"

“If this dereliction of duty is reported, the outcome will likely not be optimistic.”

This time, the other party was truly terrified.
"Director Qian, I know I was wrong! Please give me another chance!"

Qian Xiaosan snorted coldly: "Hurry up and check if anyone has come in while you were gone?"

"Yes." The duty officer hurriedly opened the drawer, checked the documents inside, found no signs of tampering, and then turned around to check the lock on the filing cabinet behind him.

While he was distracted, Qian Xiaosan glanced discreetly at the list in the drawer, which clearly indicated the filing cabinet where the safe house documents were located.

The duty officer checked everything and assured him confidently, "Director Qian, everything is normal and there are no problems."

Qian Xiaosan's anger seemed to have subsided a bit. He snorted coldly, picked up his teacup, and sat down to the side.

The duty officer sat down nervously, hunching his shoulders, staring blankly at the register.

And so, Qian Xiaosan spent nearly half an hour in the archives, drinking glass after glass of water. By the time he picked up the kettle for the fourth time, it was empty. The clerk on duty, quick as a flash, practically scurried over to him:

"Director Qian, I'll go get some water, I'll go!" Qian Xiaosan snorted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, but his eyes kept following the footsteps of the duty officer out of the corner of his eye.

No sooner had he left than Qian Xiaosan arrived at the filing cabinet and used a wire to open the door. He pulled out a drawer, revealing a pile of file folders. He randomly picked one up and opened it; inside was only one document. He opened another, and it also contained documents—still nothing.

Somewhat anxiously, he opened the third file folder, where the words "Safe House" came into view. He quickly pulled out the document—the address and overview of the third safe house.

The Zili Lane Mansion is located at the intersection of No. 36 Renmin Road and No. 23 Zili Lane.

Qian Xiaosan finally breathed a sigh of relief. He carefully wrote down the address of safe room number three, restored the documents and filed them again, then locked the cabinet and wiped away the fingerprints left on it with his cuff.

After doing all this, he sat back down as if nothing had happened.

Soon, the duty officer returned, panting, and approached Qian Xiaosan with a fawning expression, holding a thermos: "Director Qian, shall I refill your thermos?"

"I'm not drinking anymore. Do you think I'm a water buffalo?" Qian Xiaosan sneered and walked outside. As he stepped out the door, he left with the words, "Don't do it again!"

"Yes, yes, thank you, Director Qian." The duty officer finally breathed a sigh of relief, nodding and bowing as he watched him leave.

Qian Xiaosan returned to his office and immediately locked the door quietly.

Then, he crouched down, took a first-aid kit from the drawer, and carefully placed it on the desk.

The first aid kit was filled with gauze, bandages and other first aid supplies, as well as some small boxes, one of which was a small green metal box containing a few white pills.

Qian Xiaosan took out two white pills, placed them on a piece of paper, crushed them into powder with a bottle, and then carefully poured them into an empty medicine bottle. He then took out a glass syringe, drew some liquid from another medicine bottle, and injected it into the bottle containing the powder.

In this way, the powder and liquid quickly mixed. He put the cap on, shook it, drew a syringe, carefully wrapped it in oil paper, and put it in his pocket.

After doing all this, he quickly cleaned up the traces, put everything back in its place, carefully checked it, and after finding nothing unusual, quickly left the office.

The Zili Lane Mansion is a four-story brick and stone building that combines Chinese and Western architectural styles. It features a hipped roof and was copied from a wealthy merchant.

Before entering, Liu Ningxue wore a large coat to cover the handcuffs. She also wore a raincoat and a hood, completely obscuring her face, making it impossible for outsiders to discern her features and effectively isolating her from view.

After entering the house, Liu Ningxue was taken to a bedroom and placed in a fixed chair with her feet handcuffed to the chair legs.

After everything was arranged, the monkey closed the bedroom door and said to Lai Guomin, the head of the interrogation department:
"I'll report to the section chief. You arrange for someone to get her some food. Be careful."

"Don't worry!" Lai Guomin agreed, then casually beckoned to a young agent named Li Dawei: "Go and get her some food."

"Yes."

The mansion in Zili Lane was located in a remote area. It was late at night and raining, and there was only a simple noodle stall nearby. At this time, there were hardly any customers at the noodle stall.

The honest and unassuming boss sat on a bamboo stool, silently smoking, while his wife squatted by the stove, fanning herself as steam rose from the pot.

Li Dawei walked over:

"Boss, do you have noodles?"

The shop owner glanced at him: "We only have pork lard noodles."

Looking at the shabby appearance of the noodle stall, and then thinking about the pork noodles served in the detention center's canteen, Li Dawei suddenly lost his appetite.
"Nothing else? No minced meat sauce?"

No.

"Alright, two bowls of lard noodles."

The boss then slowly got up, grabbed two handfuls of noodles and put them into the pot. He then prepared two bowls, ladled a piece of lard into each, poured a spoonful of hot soup over them, and finally scooped the smooth noodles out of the pot and put them into the bowls.

The proprietress placed two steaming bowls of lard noodles in front of Li Dawei, and only then did he remember something:
“Can I take it with me?”

The shopkeeper frowned and looked at him: "Add one dollar."

"Fine." Li Dawei snorted. As he took out his money, he noticed a rickshaw driver strolling over, looking worried and craning his neck to look at the noodle stall, seemingly struggling with whether or not to eat.

After paying the bill, Li Dawei left without looking back, but the rickshaw driver glanced at his retreating figure.

If Qian Xiaosan were standing nearby, and if the driver were to speak at this moment, he would definitely recognize this person—Zhao Deshan, the one who called him by impersonating Mao Qiwu.

This Japanese spy, who publicly identified himself as a writer, was now disguised as a rickshaw driver.

After making the phone call, Zhao Deshan appeared at Qian Xiaosan's door as a rickshaw driver and asked if he needed a ride. After being refused, he followed Qian Xiaosan to the judicial office and then followed him here, completely unaware that he had entered Zhang Yi and Monkey's field of vision.

Inside a car parked by the roadside, Zhang Yi and Monkey were intently observing the every move of Zhao Deshan, this uninvited guest.

Seeing him crane his neck to examine the noodle stall, the monkey said with some concern:
"He seems quite interested in the stall owner. Hopefully, he won't give himself away."

He knew that the couple who owned the noodle stall were investigators that Zhang Yi had borrowed from the Operations Department; they were both unfamiliar faces, and he had never even seen them before.

Zhang Yi said with a smile, "I've met them in person. Before they started this business, they were street vendors. They still occasionally set up stalls to supplement their income, so there's no need to worry. The best disguise is not to disguise. They are stall owners now, so any reaction is appropriate."

Since the beginning of this year, with inflation and soaring prices, the Military Intelligence Bureau's budget has been stretched thin. High-ranking and mid-level agents are relatively better off, as they each have their own sources of income and their quality of life hasn't changed much. However, the situation is different for lower-level agents. These individuals are also seeking ways to make money, whether it's embezzling funds using their positions, extortion, robbery, murder for financial gain, or acting as protectors for casinos and brothels—the methods are varied and numerous.

Just as the monkey had predicted, Zhao Deshan was indeed observing the stall owner. He strolled over to the noodle stall:
"Noodles are cheap?"

"3 dollars."

"So expensive? Can you make it cheaper?" Zhao Deshan opened his mouth, looking conflicted, but his eyes discreetly observed the stove, the cutting board, and the stall owner's fingernails. He saw that the stove was almost rotten from soot, the area under the stove was full of ashes, the couple's sleeves were greasy, their hands were covered in calluses, and their fingernails were full of dough, and he immediately felt relieved.

"It's a small business. If you think it's too expensive, you can go to another place."

"Okay then, give me a bowl." Zhao Deshan smiled awkwardly, ordered a bowl of noodles, sat down at the greasy little table next to him, his gaze followed Li Dawei who was walking further and further away, and then he looked at the big tree across the road.

There, Qian Xiaosan's figure almost blended into the darkness.

He heard footsteps in the distance and saw Li Dawei carrying a bowl of noodles. After thinking for a moment, he silently walked into the dark alley. After walking a short distance, he turned around and quickened his pace. At the same time, he flicked his sleeve and a syringe appeared in his hand.

Li Dawei appeared, carrying a bowl of noodles.

Qian Xiaosan wrapped his raincoat tighter around himself, lowered his head, and walked quickly toward him, passing by Li Dawei.

In that split second as they passed each other, Qian Xiaosan flicked one hand lightly and quickly inserted the syringe into the noodles with the other.

In the pitch-black alley, where you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, Li Dawei only glanced at him strangely, completely unaware of his actions.

(End of this chapter)