Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

The surveillance point is located deep within the old residential area in the west of the city.

The three-story building was cluttered with honeycomb briquettes and pickled vegetable jars, making it impossible to even squeeze in. He Yuzhu squeezed through sideways, his shoulder getting covered in whitewash from the wall. The innermost room on the second floor had a window facing the back wall of the neighboring building, so it never saw the sun. A musty smell crept up from the base of the wall, mingling with the stench of urine and boiled cabbage, giving one a headache.

Zhao Weiguo squatted in the corner.

He held his head in his hands, his fingers running through his hair, only lifting them when he heard the door open. His eyes were sunken, bloodshot, and he looked straight ahead.

He Yuzhu sat down next to him.

There was a piece of plaster on the ground with a hole scratched out by fingernails. Zhao Weiguo did it.

"Haven't you slept for days?"

Zhao Weiguo remained silent.

He Yuzhu looked at him. Three days, at least three days.

"We are investigating your mother's matter."

Zhao Weiguo's shoulder twitched.

He uttered a few words, his voice hoarse and barely audible. He Yuzhu leaned closer to hear him—"They'll kill her."

He Yuzhu did not respond.

There was a long silence. Someone coughed in the hallway, coughing up loud phlegm, then the footsteps faded into the distance.

"Zhao Weiguo," He Yuzhu said in a low voice, "I have a few questions for you."

Zhao Weiguo raised his head.

Do you trust the organization?

Zhao Weiguo was stunned. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only nodded.

"letter."

He Yuzhu stared into his eyes.

Do you believe me or not?

Zhao Weiguo's eyes reddened. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He Yuzhu didn't urge him, just waited. Outside the window, someone's bedsheets were flapping loudly in the wind.

"...Dean, I—"

He Yuzhu interrupted him.

"To believe or not to believe?"

Zhao Weiguo looked at him for a long time. Then he nodded heavily.

"letter."

He Yuzhu stood up.

"Then do as I say."

The forged documents by Lao Sun were spread out on the table.

The research institute's official paper, stamped with a confidentiality seal, was titled "Adjustment Scheme for Core Parameters of the Lithography Machine." Zhao Weiguo reached out to take it, but his fingers recoiled as soon as they touched the paper, as if burned. He managed to hold it steady on the second try, his hand still trembling.

Old Sun looked at him.

"Don't shake. Shaking will give you away."

Zhao Weiguo put the paper down, pressed his palm on it, and held it down for a few seconds. When he lifted it again, his hand was no longer shaking.

He Yuzhu stood by the window, his back to them.

"The usual place. The abandoned factory. Take this and wait for them to come."

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

"What if they don't come?"

He Yuzhu turned around. The light shone from behind him, and his face was in shadow.

"Then let's wait for them to arrive."

The nights in the abandoned factory were colder than a few days ago.

Zhao Weiguo squatted behind a pile of scrap metal, stuffing the documents into his cotton-padded coat, close to his chest. The metal was icy cold, chilling his legs even through his cotton trousers. The wind blew in through the holes, making the scrap paper rustle loudly on the ground.

He shrank his neck into his collar and looked around.

It was pitch black. I couldn't see anything.

But he knew that Old Lu and his men were lying in wait in the shadows. The commander had said there were twenty men on the outer perimeter, forming an impenetrable wall around the area. He couldn't see or hear where those men were now.

I waited for two hours.

Three hours.

Four hours.

The sheet metal rattled and clanged in the wind for four hours straight. Zhao Weiguo stared at a broken window at the other end of the factory, the plastic sheeting covering it flapping wildly for four hours. He felt like he was being driven crazy by the noise.

It's almost dawn.

Zhao Weiguo stood up and stamped his numb feet. Just as he was about to move to another spot, a figure appeared at the factory entrance.

It wasn't something we walked over.

He moved slowly. Bent over, pushing a tattered cart piled high with cardboard and rotten cotton wadding. An old man collecting scraps.

Zhao Weiguo froze, not moving.

The old man pushed his cart slowly this way. The broken cart creaked and groaned, its wheels wobbling as it rolled over broken bricks. When he reached it, he stopped and looked up at Zhao Weiguo.

He was in his sixties. His face was full of wrinkles, and his eyes were cloudy; he looked no different from an ordinary scavenger.

"Young man, which way to Fengtai District?"

Zhao Weiguo's throat tightened.

He was about to speak when the old man suddenly laughed. It was a laugh that didn't match the wrinkles on his face.

"Did you bring the things?"

Zhao Weiguo's pupils contracted.

The old man reached under the cart—

Suddenly, several people rushed out and pinned the old man to the ground. The cart overturned, scattering cardboard boxes and tattered cotton wadding everywhere. Old Lu pulled a gun and a grenade from the old man's pocket. The grenade's cap was already loose.

The old man's face was pressed against the ground, the rusty smell of metal filling his nostrils. He was still smiling.

"You guys are pretty quick."

The interrogation room lights were very bright.

A single incandescent light bulb hung overhead, bare and glaring. The shadow on the wall was stretched distorted; the old man sat in a chair, handcuffed, his shadow larger than he was.

Old Sun lit a cigarette and handed it over.

The old man took it, took a puff, and squinted his eyes.

"What do you want to ask?"

Old Sun looked at him.

"Code name".

The old man exhaled a puff of smoke.

"anvil."

Old Sun tapped his finger on the table.

"Who is Iron Hammer to you?"

The old man glanced at him.

"Junior brother."

Old Sun leaned forward.

Who is the blacksmith?

The old man didn't say anything.

He finished his cigarette, threw the butt on the ground, and stomped it out. He stomped it out for a long time.

Old Sun is waiting.

"The blacksmith..." the old man looked up, "is our master. I've never met him, I've only heard about him from Iron Hammer."

Old Sun stared into his eyes.

"Never seen it before?"

The old man shook his head.

"He was the one who contacted me every time we met. I did whatever he told me to do."

Old Sun leaned back in his chair.

How can I contact them?

The old man remained silent for a while.

"Write a letter. Send it to an address. He replies."

Old Sun stood up.

"address."

The old man gave an address.

Old Sun turned and walked out. As he reached the door, the old man said something behind him.

"You can't catch him. He's much smarter than us."

Old Sun stopped at the door without turning around.

"We'll talk about that after we catch them."

He Yuzhu stood outside the interrogation room, looking inside through the glass.

Old Sun came out looking rather unwell.

"Blacksmith. We've been watching this man for three years, but we haven't found a single clue."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

Not even a little?

Old Sun shook his head.

"Every time he was about to touch it, he would disappear. This time was no different; as soon as the hammer was caught, he immediately cut all the wires."

He paused.

"This person might be in your research institute. Or... higher up."

He Yuzhu clenched his fist tightly inside his sleeve.

Old Sun looked at him.

"Be more careful over there in the future."

He Yuzhu nodded.

By the time we got back to the research institute, it was completely dark.

He Yuzhu stood by the office window, looking at the night outside. One by one, the lights came on, outlining the factory buildings and dormitories. Some people were still working overtime; shadows flickered inside the windows.

Where is that "blacksmith"?

He looked at the windows with lights on. One, two, three. Behind each one was someone.

The phone behind me suddenly rang.

He Yuzhu answered the phone. It was Old Sun on the other end, his voice hushed.

"We just received a message from an inside source. 'The Blacksmith' left us a message."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"Give my regards to He Yuzhu."

He Yuzhu's hand holding the microphone slowly tightened.

He looked out the window at the lights. Suddenly, he felt that behind every lit window, there was a pair of eyes.