My spy diary

Chapter 687 The Scoundrel (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

"Yes," Zhao Deshan replied sternly.

Huizi was his wife in Japan, and she had borne him a son. Lu Zhongping's threat was undisguised: if they didn't do as he said, he wouldn't spare his wife and child, even if he died.

"Alright, stop looking so downcast. A writer like you, cheer up." Lu Zhongping knew he had hit Zhao Deshan where it hurt, and his tone became gentle and friendly again. "We're on the same side, so I'll be frank with you. As the Chinese saying goes, 'A new emperor brings a new court.' Right now, it's the young and promising faction of the Tojo clique that's in power. They prefer young people, just like we were back then. Thirteen years ago, when we did that thing, weren't we big shots? Things aren't like they used to be. If we don't achieve something soon, even if we go back to Manchuria, neither of us will be comfortable."

"Thirteen years ago." A bitter smile appeared on Zhao Deshan's face. That night thirteen years ago seemed to return before his eyes—
On the railway tracks of Huanggutun, a deafening explosion resounded, sending thick smoke and shards of iron soaring into the sky. This not only ended the life of a certain important figure but also shattered the surface tranquility of Northeast China.

He glanced at Lu Zhongping, and asked hesitantly:
"How is Colonel Kawamoto? I heard..."

“He’s not dead, but he’ll be soon. The empire won’t let any defector go unpunished.” Under Zhao Deshan’s shocked gaze, Lu Zhongping wiped the sweat from his face with a handkerchief and continued, “It is said that he has defected to Yan Xishan.”

"Defection? How could this be?" Zhao Deshan's face was full of disbelief.

Colonel Kawamoto, whose real name was Daisaku Kawamoto, was a representative of the younger generation of officers in the army. He admired conspiracy and assassination. At the time, he was a senior staff officer of the Kwantung Army. He led the planting of explosives at the Sandong Bridge in Huanggutun, which killed Marshal Zhang. However, this action was not approved by the Japanese government and was considered "unauthorized." After the incident was exposed, in order to quell international and domestic public opinion, he was dismissed and put into the reserve. Later, he served as a director of the South Manchuria Railway and chairman of the Manchurian Coal Association, retiring to the second line. But even so, why would he defect?
The Huanggutun Incident directly changed the situation in Northeast China and also altered the fates of Zhao Deshan, Lu Zhongping, and others. Originally, they were brave and revered heroes and meritorious officials, but with Colonel Kawamoto's dismissal, the situation took a sharp turn for the worse. Just when they were disheartened, Doi-maru of the Special Higher Police suddenly recruited them and sent them to the Beiping Secret School, transforming them from reconnaissance soldiers in the Chinese class of the General Staff Headquarters into agents of the Special Higher Police.

"Alright, this isn't our business. Let's just do our own jobs."

Zhao Deshan's mood calmed down a bit, and he pointed down the mountain and said:

"There's a pretty good noodle shop over there, my treat, wanna grab something to eat?"

"Why do you still like to eat this?"

“During the training course, the instructors made me eat every day. If I didn’t, I’d get beaten. Even when I was sick of it, I had to keep eating. They said that people in Chongqing mainly eat noodles besides Sichuan cuisine and rice, and if I wanted to come here, I had to be like them. But when I got here, I realized that theory and reality are completely disconnected. They do eat rice, but these days resources are scarce, and what’s available on the market is mostly brown rice and indica rice, often mixed with sorghum, cornmeal, and dried sweet potatoes—oh, that’s what they call eight-treasure rice. It’s rough and hard to swallow. I’ve come to prefer noodles.” As he spoke, he looked at Lu Zhongping, “Are you coming? It’s on me.”

"Forget it, if one day we can climb up there, there, let alone Chongqing noodles, we'll have plenty of sushi too!" Lu Zhongping shook his head with a smile, pointing to two distant mountain peaks.

Zhao Deshan followed his gaze and understood that he was referring to Huangshan and Gele Mountain. Huangshan was an important area of ​​activity for military and political officials of the Nationalist government, and Chang's official residence was located there. Gele Mountain was known as the highest peak in western Chongqing, but it was also the stronghold of the Military Intelligence Bureau, heavily guarded. It would be extremely difficult for ordinary people to climb it, unless they could one day capture the mountain city.

But how easy was that? Zhao Deshan sighed silently to himself. Lu Zhongping said he needed to train and continued up the mountain, but he didn't have the stamina, so he went down the mountain alone. As he walked, he pondered the task Lu Zhongping had given him; there was no time to lose, he had to move as soon as possible.

"Chief, Zhao Deshan has appeared!"

The phone in the teahouse suddenly rang. Zhang Yi answered it and heard the somewhat excited voice of the plainclothes detective. He smiled dismissively.

"The poor monk observes people, the rich monk guards temples; I knew he would come back. Now tell me, where is he now?"

"At the intersection of Jinling Road, he just changed to a rickshaw." The plainclothes detective gave a location, and Zhang Yi immediately marked it on the map. Based on the distance, the man would be back in his hideout in a few minutes and appear in his field of vision. He thought for a moment and gave an order that sounded unbelievable to the plainclothes detective.

"Cancel all surveillance and let him in."

"Chief, this..."

“Execute the order. The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. Who knows if there are eyes watching him from behind?” Zhang Yi’s tone left no room for doubt. Although such an unusual event was a low-probability occurrence, it was still not something to be taken lightly. After all, judging from the abilities Zhao Deshan had revealed, he was no ordinary person.

In other words, if you want to catch this big fish and the people behind him, you can never be too careful.

"Yes."

After hanging up the phone, Zhang Yi immediately picked up his binoculars and went to observe from behind the half-open window.

A short while later, he saw a rickshaw parked on the side of the road in the distance. Zhao Deshan got off, paid the fare, and walked alone to another street. Then he saw a taxi parked on the side of the road in the distance. He immediately adjusted his focus and observed carefully. The license plate number was Yu 2347.

"A taxi?" Zhang Yi frowned. He had a huge filing cabinet in his mind, storing all kinds of information in a categorized manner, so he could quickly and accurately find what he needed when he needed it.

China's taxi industry originated in Harbin. In 1903, driven by the Chinese Eastern Railway, Harbin saw its first batch of "commercial cars" (less than ten vehicles), mostly operated by Russian expatriates and foreign merchants. The cars were mainly Renault and Ford models, serving Chinese and foreign dignitaries and wealthy businessmen.

Starting in the 1920s, Chinese businessmen entered the market. A representative figure was Zhang Haipeng. In 1921, he founded a taxi company, focusing on routes in the core areas of Daoli and Daowai districts. The taxis were available on demand, and the fare was based on the number of people (15 cents per person, half price for children). The vehicles were mainly Chevrolet and Ford, and the drivers were mostly Belarusian expatriates.

It is reported that by 1934, Harbin had more than 400 taxis. However, due to the implementation of the "automobile group" control by the Japanese puppet regime and the severe shortage of gasoline after the war entered a stalemate, the development of taxis deteriorated rapidly.

In Shanghai, the American-owned Universal Supply Company department store established a car rental department in 1908, charging by the hour: 6 silver dollars for the first hour and 4 silver dollars for each additional hour. The service was primarily for the wealthy and powerful; ordinary people simply couldn't afford it. In 1913, the Chinese-owned Yunfei Car Rental Company was established, initiating a competitive landscape between Chinese and foreign companies.

The golden age of Shanghai's taxi business was from 20 to 37 years. The industry rapidly scaled up. By 26 years, there were 51 registered taxi companies and 493 vehicles in the concession area. Xiang Sheng (founded by Zhou Xiangsheng, whose telephone number was 40000, meaning that 400 million compatriots should call 40000) taxi company, Yunfei, Tailai, and Yinshen were known as the four major companies.

After the Battle of Shanghai on August 13, the population of the foreign concessions surged, and the taxi business experienced a brief boom. However, as the war dragged on, prices soared, and gasoline was strictly controlled, taxis almost ceased operation.

The taxi business in the mountain city started relatively late, only beginning to operate 30 years later. There were mainly three companies: Dalu Taxi Company, Sanfei Taxi Company, and Linfei Taxi Company, with a total of only a dozen or so vehicles. Most of these were old vehicles retired and refurbished by government agencies and were concentrated in the core area of ​​the city. The industry was constrained by gasoline regulations and a shortage of spare parts, making it difficult to develop into a significant industry.

Recalling this information, Zhang Yi immediately gave the order:
"Immediately call the Municipal Administration for Industry and Commerce, the Public Transportation Management Office, the Police Station, and the Waterway Transportation Integrated Inspection Station to find out basic information about the vehicle from the side. Remember to be careful with your wording and don't alert the suspect."

As they spoke, Zhang Yi shifted his gaze to Zhao Deshan, or more precisely, to the man's waist. He suddenly noticed that the man's pockets were bulging, as if he were hiding something.

Intelligence, data, or money?

Speculating, Zhang Yi shifted his gaze to the taxi, where the man got out. He wore a black cap, a navy blue stand-up collar jacket, matching trousers with the cuffs rolled up, grey leggings, and black round-toed cloth shoes. His head was slightly lowered, obscuring his face, and he was crossing the street towards the grocery store on the other side. Who was this person?

Was it a real taxi driver, or an accomplice of Zhao Deshan in disguise?
Due to wartime shortages of supplies and high fares, ordinary people could rarely afford taxi fares. As a result, taxi services were highly concentrated, mainly serving some military and government personnel, wealthy businessmen and overseas Chinese, as well as special groups such as journalists.

The area where Zhao Deshan lived was the newspaper's dormitory. Could it be that the reporter or editor called the car, or was it just passing by?
As he pondered, an idea suddenly formed in Zhang Yi's mind, and he decided to take the risk.

Thus, Zhang Yi turned to look at the group of plainclothes officers, his gaze finally settling on a young agent dressed as a servant:

"You, take off your clothes, let's change."

"Ah!" The little spy was stunned for a moment, not understanding what was going on. After being glared at by the monkey, he finally reacted and quickly stripped himself naked, leaving only his underwear. When the monkey saw him about to take off his wrinkled, sticky, and musty-smelling coarse cloth socks, he frowned:
"Why do you smell so bad? Haven't you washed your feet in days?"

The young spy blushed with embarrassment and laughed awkwardly, "My feet are sweaty, and it's so hot. I haven't slept for a day and a night, so I had no choice."

The monkey frowned: "You stink!"

The people around burst into laughter.

Zhang Yi grimaced; it really stank. The sour, rancid smell was pungent even from several meters away. He glanced at the man's socks; their color was similar to his trousers, at least the combination wouldn't be too flashy or ostentatious. He appreciated the man's kindness and told him not to take off his socks. He went over and changed into the man's clothes and cloth shoes, then took a top hat and put it on. After thinking for a moment, he also put on a pair of glasses. Holding a newspaper, he walked downstairs, giving instructions as he went:
"Keep a close eye on that taxi driver. Remember to keep your distance, don't alert him, and avoid any eye contact. Anyone who makes contact with him must leave immediately. Whoever makes a mistake will be punished!"

"Yes!"

The monkey caught up and said, "Chief, if I may say something, a son of a wealthy family should not sit under a dangerous roof. You don't really need to do this kind of trivial thing like stalking yourself."

"It's alright, I'm just killing time anyway, might as well stretch my muscles." Zhang Yifeng smiled nonchalantly, then thought for a moment and added, "One more thing, keep a close eye on that taxi driver. If he leaves, let him go, and slowly verify his identity. If he has other intentions, arrest him immediately. Remember, he must be alive!"

"Yes."

Zhao Deshan walked slowly down the street towards his home. Inadvertently, he looked towards the alley entrance, where someone was walking towards him.

His eyes flickered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure.

In his field of vision, the person who appeared opposite him walked steadily, which was obviously different from the people who were rushing or leisurely. Moreover, his eyes were wandering, and he looked left and right as he walked, as if he was looking for someone.

Military Intelligence Bureau plainclothes officers? Doesn't seem likely!
If he was a plainclothes agent for the Kuomintang, then his basic skills were poor; he looked more like a petty thief.

Are they trying to take advantage of me?
Zhao Deshan snorted inwardly. He guessed that this thief was an accomplice of the rickshaw driver and had probably been watching him for a long time, otherwise he wouldn't have appeared here.

Just as he was pondering this, the thief drew ever closer.

Zhao Deshan sneered. It was truly a case of a tiger fallen into the plains being bullied by dogs. After all, he was a well-trained special agent, and catching a petty thief was nothing to him.

Of course, there are still challenges, after all, he is currently pretending to be a writer who is powerless.

As he walked slowly forward, he noticed that the thief seemed to have noticed him watching, so he slowed his pace even further, covering his face with a newspaper as he walked.

"A clumsy trick!"

Zhao Deshan sneered repeatedly, a mocking glint in his eyes. He wanted to see just how skilled this scoundrel was, daring to openly attack him in broad daylight.

Closer, closer.

Just as the thief approached, he suddenly cried out "Ouch!" and stumbled, as if he had twisted his ankle while reading a newspaper and not looking where he was going. He bumped right into him. At the same time, in a flash, the thief's hand quickly reached into his pocket.

Zhao Deshan snorted coldly, quickly looked around, and felt relieved to see that no one was paying attention. He swiftly stretched out his right hand and grabbed a wrist tightly—the thief's hand was extending two fingers and touching the envelope in his pocket.

Although caught red-handed, the thief wasn't flustered at all; he grinned and said:

"Let go, I guess I'm out of luck."

Zhao Deshan didn't want to make a big fuss. Looking at the unskilled thief, he scolded him in a low voice, "Someone like you dares to beg for food." Before he finished speaking, just as he relaxed his guard, he saw a ruthless glint flash in the eyes of the thief who had been grinning. He suddenly drew a dagger with his right hand and stabbed it into Zhao Deshan's neck.

Zhao Deshan reacted quickly, dodging backward, but the dagger unexpectedly curved and slashed swiftly and viciously at the wrist of the man who had grabbed the thief. Blood immediately flowed out, and in pain, he had no choice but to let go. The thief smiled triumphantly and, while swinging the knife again, quickly reached his left hand into Zhao Deshan's pocket.

Seeing that the envelope in his pocket was about to be stolen, Zhao Deshan was completely enraged. He gritted his teeth and was about to take action when his neighbor Shen Linfeng appeared carrying a bag of garbage.

A sense of unease rose in Zhao Deshan's heart; this damned spy had appeared at just the right time. He inwardly groaned, and in an instant, he transformed back into the sleazy, greedy writer Zhao, feigning panic, plopping down on the ground and wailing loudly:

"My money! My money has been robbed!"

Meanwhile, the taxi driver, hidden at the other end of the alley, saw this scene and his face darkened.

(End of this chapter)