The War of Resistance Against Japan: Starting with a Calm View of Life and Death

Old Meng took a few sips to catch his breath before whispering, "I found out some things. Jin Wanfu has seven or eight plainclothes men who often follow him. The leader is called Bald-Headed Zhang. He has very little hair on his head, a pockmarked face, and is ruthless."

They do have people "keeping watch" at night, but the location isn't fixed; sometimes it's at the casino, sometimes at the opium den, sometimes...

They squatted outside important places like Fuyuan Grocery Store.

A shift lasts about four hours, with a change of shifts around midnight. Sometimes someone brings food and drinks, but it's not a regular occurrence.

He took a breath and continued, "I pretended to be confused and went to the back door of the Jin family to talk to an old man who was dumping swill. The old man let slip that last night he saw 'Scarface Third Brother,' one of Zhang the Bald, carrying a food box toward West Street. It looked like it was filled with soup."

Scarface the Third was a trusted confidant of Bald-Headed Zhang; he was easily recognizable by the scar on his face.

"Scarface the Third... the food box..." Zhou Jindong's eyes narrowed slightly. "About when does the shift change happen?"

"The old man couldn't say for sure; it seems like he goes once in the first half of the night and once in the second half. We'll have to keep an eye on the exact times."

If someone delivers food, there might be an opportunity.

Zhou Jindong quickly made a mental calculation.

If we can figure out the pattern of food delivery or shift changes, we might be able to intercept them halfway and impersonate the food delivery person to get close to the sentry.

But this requires very precise intelligence, and the risks remain high. The person delivering the food is likely known to the undercover agent.

They will also question people if they don't know them.

"Comrade Meng, why don't you go over there again during the day and see if you can run into that old man who dumps swill, or any other elderly people or idlers in the neighborhood, and ask them a few more questions."

The main thing is to figure out roughly what time the food delivery will take, which route they'll come from, how many people there are, and whether they're carrying any weapons. Also, take a closer look at what's happening in that side alley during the day.

Old Meng nodded in agreement, rested for a while, and then went out again.

In the afternoon, Lao Meng brought back more concrete information: the old man who dumped the swill said that every two or three days, Scarface Lao San or one of his men would come to Zhong at nine o'clock in the evening, carrying a basket or food box, and walk out of the back door of the Jin family's house towards West Street.

I just delivered it yesterday, so I might not deliver it tonight. But the old man also said that sometimes it's a little late, sometimes as late as 10 or 11 pm.

As for the side alley, Lao Meng pretended to be looking for a lost broken pottery jar during the day and went in for a walk.

The alley was narrow, with piles of broken furniture and garbage at its deepest point. The spot where the sentry had been hiding last night had a broken straw mat and a few cigarette butts against the wall.

Nine to eleven o'clock at night. This time range is still too broad.

Zhou Jindong needs a more precise moment, preferably to witness it in person.

"We'll go there early tonight and keep watch in a spot where we can see the side alley entrance but won't be spotted," Zhou Jindong decided. "Let's see if anyone brings anything and when we can change shifts."

As soon as it got dark, Zhou Jindong and Wang Quan quietly left the hut again and went to the pile of broken baskets they had observed the night before.

This time, they chose a more secluded location, in the shadow of an abandoned, half-collapsed gatehouse, where they could observe the front door of the grocery store and the side alley entrance without being too conspicuous.

The night air was even colder than last night, and the wind felt like ice shards scraping against my face.

The two stood close to the brick wall, motionless, as if they had blended into the darkness.

Time slowly passed. The night watchman struck the second watch gong on the street.

Occasionally, the shouts of drunkards and the occasional barking of dogs could be heard from the main street in the distance, but the west side of the street remained deathly silent.

Zhou Jindong's gaze was like a nail, firmly fixed on the thick, impenetrable darkness at the entrance of the side alley.

He needed to confirm whether the hidden sentry was still there.

Around 9:30 p.m., a very faint cough came from deep within the side alley, then was quickly silenced. The sentry was still there, and remained alert.

A quarter past ten o'clock, footsteps came from afar. They weren't very heavy, but they were clear enough in the quiet night.

Zhou Jindong's spirits lifted, and he leaned forward slightly.

The footsteps came from the east end of West Street, and there was more than one person. Soon, two figures appeared on the dimly lit street.

The one in front seemed to be carrying something and was walking quite fast. The one behind him had his hands tucked into his sleeves and his neck hunched.

The two walked straight to the grocery store without stopping, and instead headed towards the side alley entrance.

The person carrying the things approached the alleyway entrance, raised his hand as if waving it inside, and whispered something. A muffled response came from inside the alleyway.

The person carrying the items went inside, while the other person stayed at the alley entrance, looking around before turning his back to the street and facing the main street, as if keeping watch.

They're inside! Zhou Jindong's heart skipped a beat.

He couldn't see the face of the person who went in, but judging from his build and the way he walked, he didn't seem to be an ordinary person.

After less than the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, the man emerged from the side alley, the object in his hand gone.

He nodded to the lookout, and the two turned around and walked back the way they came, quickly disappearing around the street corner.

There was no handover or shift change; they just delivered the items.

Zhou Jindong silently noted the time: around 10:15. Of the two people delivering the item, one was likely keeping watch at the alley entrance while the other went inside to hand it over.

What was delivered? Food? Hot water? Intelligence?

About an hour later, it was almost midnight.

There were no pedestrians on the street, and even the stray dogs seemed frozen in place, no longer barking.

A rustling sound came from the side alley, and then a dark figure emerged from it, stood at the alley entrance, stretched, and moved his arms and legs.

The man was short and a little hunched over. He brought his hands to his mouth, breathed out warm air, and rubbed them together.

Immediately afterwards, another figure emerged from a gap next to the grocery store that was almost completely blocked by clutter, taking the place of the previous person and crouching in the shadows of the side alley.

The shift has changed.

Seeing the changing of the guard in the side alley, Zhou Jindong and Wang Quan lay in the shadow of the abandoned gatehouse, even their breathing became soft.

The newly assigned sentry squatted back in his original position, shrank his neck, and seemed to tighten his clothes.

A few scattered clapper sounds came from afar. The night grew deeper, and the chill, like fine needles, seeped in through every gap in our clothes.

Zhou Jindong raised his hand, brought it close to his eyes, and looked at the pocket watch. The hands pointed to 11:30.

He silently calculated in his mind. The shift had changed, and the new guards wouldn't get sleepy so quickly, but the period before dawn was the coldest, when people were most tired, and their vigilance was most likely to be relaxed.

The late-night snack is usually delivered around 10:15 PM, but the next delivery might have to wait until late at night, or it might not even be delivered at all.

From that spot in the side alley, you can observe the main street and part of the side alley, but there's a blind spot in your view of the narrow, dilapidated path behind you.

If you sneak towards Cat Alley and go around the half-collapsed wall, you might be able to approach from behind the sentry.

The key is to know how many people are inside, especially the situation in those side rooms.

Liu Shunfa is in the east wing. What about Guo Fuyuan and the other workers? Which room do they sleep in? Do they get up at night? Do they have dogs?

He nudged Wang Quan's arm, winked at him in the direction of the side alley, and then retreated very slowly.

Wang Quan understood and followed him, slowly and silently moving out of their hiding place and retreating into a darker side path.

When the two returned to Old Meng's dilapidated house, the cold air on their bodies almost froze their clothes.

Old Meng was still awake; the oil lamp was flickered down to a tiny flame, barely the size of a soybean, dancing on the table. Seeing them enter, he immediately tried to stand up.

"Sit down." Zhou Jindong lowered his voice, rubbed his frozen hands, and squatted down opposite Lao Meng. "Look closely, they changed shifts. They just took over less than half an hour ago. The two people who delivered the food arrived around 10:15. They didn't change shifts, delivered the food, and left. I couldn't see what they delivered, but it looked like a basket or a food box."

Old Meng nodded, coughed twice, and then said, "10:15... that's the second late-night snack being delivered."

I asked the old man who empties the slop buckets again during the day, and he said it depends on what he delivers. He delivers meals and soup to help the night watchmen fill their stomachs, and sometimes he might bring some tobacco to keep them awake.

"Opium?" Wang Quan asked in a low voice from the side.

"Hmm," Old Meng pointed to himself with his pipe, "this thing, when it's cold squatting at night, a puff can keep you warm for a while. Some traitors and thugs like this."

Zhou Jindong didn't speak, his gaze lingering for a moment on the flickering lamplight. "When's the next time you deliver late-night snacks?"

"It's really hard to say. Maybe it'll be two or three in the morning? Or maybe they won't deliver at all. Jin Wanfu and his gang are unpredictable."

The room fell silent, with only the faint crackling of the burning oil lamp.

Zhou Jindong felt the chilblains on his feet starting to itch again, but he didn't move. Time passed by, each second like a taut bowstring.

They were in the heart of enemy-occupied territory, and every moment they stayed there increased their danger.

Before dawn, a decision must be made: whether to continue waiting for a more secure opportunity, or to take the risk and act.

"We can't wait for the next meal delivery," Zhou Jindong said, his voice low but clear. "We can't figure out the pattern. If we don't deliver tonight, are we supposed to wait another night? If we drag it out, things could change. That Liu Shunfa can't stay hidden forever. But we can't afford to wait."

Wang Quan looked at him: "Captain, then...should we just take out that sentry?"

"Okay." Zhou Jindong nodded. "Go around from Cat Alley, through the alleyway of that dilapidated courtyard that Old Meng mentioned. You can get close from behind the sentry. Be quick and don't make a sound."

He turned to Lao Meng: "Comrade Lao Meng, what is the exact height of the backyard wall? Are there any broken tiles, shards of glass, or anything like that on top of the wall?"

Old Meng frowned as he recalled, "The wall... was just a regular rammed earth wall, less than one and a half people high. Over the years, the top of the wall was pitted and covered with withered grass."

Broken tiles... there seem to be some, but not many. The Japanese and their collaborators probably thought it unnecessary to put those things in this run-down place.

But at the base of the wall, especially near Cat Alley, there were piles of garbage and broken bricks that made a loud noise when stepped on.

"What about inside the wall? Is the yard paved with dirt or bricks?"

"The ground was mud, compacted mud, without any bricks. The courtyard wasn't big, only about ten steps from the base of the wall to the door of the side room."

Zhou Jindong repeatedly went through the process in his mind. The wall was about one and a half times the height of a person; with a running start, he could grab the top of the wall and flip over, but the landing sound had to be quiet.

The yard is dirt, which is fine. The key is to know if there are any dogs in the yard.

Old Meng didn't hear the dog barking during the day, nor at night. But the dog might not have been barking all the time.

"Do you know which room that guy and Guo Fuyuan are staying in?" Zhou Jindong asked.

"The shop assistant should live at the back of the shop, next to the storage room. Guo Fuyuan... I'm not sure, he might live in the main house, or he might live in the west wing. His wife seems to have died a couple of years ago, and he lives alone." Old Meng said, then coughed again, and quickly covered his mouth with his sleeve.

Zhou Jindong asked no more questions. That was all the intelligence he had gathered. The rest depended on judgment, courage, and the sharpened dagger in his hand.

He glanced at Wang Quan.

Wang Quan couldn't hide his nervousness, but there was no sign of backing down in his eyes; he simply nodded vigorously.

"The end of the hour of Chou (1-3 AM) and the beginning of the hour of Yin (3-5 AM) are the darkest times, when people are most tired," Zhou Jindong decided. "That's when we'll make our move. We'll hide in the alley behind the dilapidated courtyard and wait for our opportunity."

He untied the bundle, opened the oilcloth bag, and took out the Type 38 rifle that was packed in a bamboo pole.

Instead of reassembling the gun, he inspected the bolt, barrel, and breech separately, and carefully wrapped them up again with rags.

Guns are not very useful in close combat in such a confined space; in fact, they are a burden. But he still carried one, just in case he needed to snipe fleeing enemies from a distance.

Wang Quan also checked his dagger, as well as the grenades and melon grenades in his arms.

The grenade was carefully wrapped in oil paper and clipped to the most convenient spot on the back of the waist.

Old Meng seemed to want to say something, opened his mouth, but ultimately only said, "Did you bring everything? Would you like to eat something else? I heated up some porridge."

Zhou Jindong waved his hand: "I won't eat anymore. Being full will only make it harder to move around. Comrade Lao Meng, you stay inside, turn off the lights, and don't come out no matter what noise you hear outside."

Old Meng gave a heavy "hmm".

The three of them fell silent and sat down to rest. Zhou Jindong leaned against the earthen wall, closed his eyes, but his ears were perked up, listening to every change in the sound of the wind outside.

He mentally rehearsed the steps of the operation: climb over the wall from the dilapidated courtyard into the alley, approach the observation point opposite the back wall of the grocery store along the alley, confirm the location of the sentry, and then choose the right moment to sneak up behind the sentry and take him out with a dagger.

After eliminating the sentries, they scaled the wall and entered the courtyard, heading straight for the east wing... Was the door to the east wing bolted or locked? What about the windows? Was Liu Shunfa alert while sleeping? Should they leave Wang Quan outside to keep watch?

Every detail was repeatedly weighed in my mind, searching for possible flaws and ways to deal with them.

Time seemed to stand still, yet it also seemed to fly by.

The sound of the clapper outside signaled the third watch of the night.

Zhou Jindong opened his eyes. The room was pitch black, and the oil lamp had gone out.

He gently moved his stiff hands and feet and said in a low voice, "That's about it."

Wang Quan immediately stood up, and in the darkness, you could hear him taking a deep breath.

The two men did a final check of their equipment. They wrapped the dagger handles tightly with cloth to ensure they wouldn't slip in their hands, and checked the safety pins on the grenades to make sure they were in a convenient position and wouldn't accidentally fall off.

Zhou Jindong carried the disassembled and cloth-wrapped barrel of the Type 38 rifle on his back, covered it with a satchel, and held in his hand the seemingly inconspicuous bamboo pole that concealed the gun's bolt.

Wang Quan wrapped up the gun parts and stuffed them into his clothes, only holding the other bamboo pole he used as a carrying pole.

They didn't greet Lao Meng again, but just glanced at each other before opening the slightly ajar door and slipping into the darkness outside like two shadows.