Where Did Great Sage Go?

Fang Jibai pressed his palms together, cradling a dagger between them. It was a weapon he had chosen with meticulous care—exceedingly sharp, capable of ending a life in the shortest possible time to minimize suffering. He was fond of the cool touch of metal; it helped him think. Of course, upon careful consideration, there did seem to be a rational explanation. A traveler with deep pockets who routinely ordered catered meals was a far cry from the typical frugal image of a comrade of their Party. Yet that in itself could be viewed as a cover. For an experienced Bolshevik fighter, it could very well serve as a disguise. At this thought, Fang Jibai felt a wave of relief wash over him. Having enemies tailing you was terrifying. Yet what was truly terrifying was if the contact comrade himself was compromised. In that case, it was no longer a rendezvous, but a trap set by a traitor and the enemy to lure him in. Fang Jibai told himself to trust his comrade. Still, now that a sliver of doubt had surfaced, it lingered in his mind, keeping him from relaxing completely. It seemed he would have to change his approach when meeting this comrade. Furthermore, there was another crucial detail: he suspected the enemy already had eyes on No. 21 Shipopo Lane. Under such circumstances, what should he do? Should they still meet? If they met, how should they go about it? Fang Jibai knitted his brows, lost in deep contemplation. *** Half an hour later. Fang Jibai walked downstairs and found a noodle shop nearby, ordering a bowl of plain noodles. When leaving, he bought two flatbreads from a roadside stall. After finishing his meal, he strolled back toward the Limin Inn. "Extra! Read all about it!" a young newsboy shouted at the top of his lungs, waving papers in the air. "Fierce fighting in the Battle of Songhu! General Sui Chengzong of the Nationalist Ninety-Eighth Division has died for the country!" "Give me a copy of the Central Daily!" Fang Jibai halted in his tracks, called out to the boy, and pulled out a three-jiao nickel coin to buy a paper. He snapped open the Central Daily to read. "The Ninety-Eighth Division of the National Revolutionary Army defends Luodian. Today, over three hundred Japanese invaders were wiped out. The National Revolutionary Army suffered heavy casualties, and General Sui Chengzong died a heroic death for his country!" Fang Jibai's nose stung, and he drew in a deep breath. "Big Brother Sui!" Fang Jibai folded the newspaper, an overwhelming sorrow surging through his heart. Sui Chengzong was a native of Lucheng Town in Danyang, a fellow townsman of his. Though they had only met a handful of times, this general from the first class of the Whampoa Military Academy had cared deeply for the younger generation from his hometown and had offered him much encouragement. To think that the next news he would hear of Big Brother Sui was an extra announcing his heroic sacrifice. Gathering his grief, Fang Jibai returned to the inn. *** At around ten to three, he looked through the window and saw the door of No. 21 Shipopo Lane open. The contact comrade locked the door and walked away. He was still dressed in that dark blue plaid changshan and wearing the sun hat. However, the Jinling Daily Anniversary Special Edition magazine was not in his hands; instead, he carried a cloth satchel, where the magazine was presumably stowed. Fang Jibai nodded slightly. This showed the contact comrade was still very cautious, taking care to avoid being identified on the street. A dark blue plaid changshan and a sun hat were fairly ordinary garments that carried no distinctive markings, minimizing any potential danger during his journey. Tearing his gaze away from the comrade's receding figure, Fang Jibai glanced at the cobbler. The cobbler had covered his face with a straw hat and was resting. A derisive smirk touched the corner of Fang Jibai's mouth. Having had no business for hours, this gentleman cobbler did not seem the least bit anxious. *** Afternoon arrived. The blazing sun hung overhead, pouring down its scorching heat without restraint. The treetops drooped listlessly, and even the pedestrians on the street looked sluggish and worn. Fang Jibai pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. It was already a quarter to four. The resident of No. 21 Shipopo Lane had not returned. Fang Jibai frowned, deep in thought. He had chosen to stay at the inn this afternoon rather than go to the rendezvous. Half an hour had already passed since the three-fifteen meeting time. The contact comrade would clearly understand that Great Sage was not coming. In such a situation, it signaled that something might have gone wrong. Logically speaking, the occupant of No. 21 Shipopo Lane should have evacuated the teahouse immediately and hurried back to his lodging, perhaps even packing his bags to relocate. Of course, if Fang Jibai were in the comrade's shoes, provided he had confirmed he was not being tracked by the enemy, he would not change lodgings rashly, as doing so would only draw attention. Yet the man had never returned. Where had he gone? Had something happened? Fang Jibai glanced down and saw that the cobbler was still there. That put his mind slightly at ease, indicating that any enemies who might be watching had not made a move. Still, where had the man gone? He stared at the cobbler and pondered for a moment longer before pulling back his gaze. The heavy curtains shut out the sunlight outside, plunging the room into dimness. Fang Jibai let out a comfortable sigh, realizing that he seemed to have grown fond of this feeling. Or perhaps it was not fondness? He had simply grown accustomed to it. *** "Where did he go?" Zhang Jiaju asked, his expression sullen as he glared at Liu Antai. "Yes, where did he go..." Fine beads of sweat dotted Liu Antai's forehead. He spoke instinctively, not daring to meet Zhang Jiaju's eyes. "Our team leader is asking you a question!" Cao Anmin stepped forward and planted a kick into Liu Antai. Scrambling back to his feet, Liu Antai forced an obsequious smile and said tentatively, "Team Leader Zhang, Great Sage must still be alive. Perhaps he was delayed by something." He was acutely aware that arresting comrades within the Party, especially apprehending Great Sage, was his sole value. Therefore, Great Sage had to be alive; he had to be. "Team Leader Zhang, should I publish another missing person notice?" Zhang Jiaju scrutinized Liu Antai with a cold, piercing gaze, as if trying to see through his very soul. Nerve-racked, Liu Antai dared not utter another word. "Mister Liu, there is no need to panic." Zhang Jiaju smiled, his tone turning gentle. "I am very gratified by your eagerness to capture the Red bandits for the Party and state." He patted Liu Antai on the shoulder. "Mister Liu, go on back to Shipopo Lane and keep a low profile for now. As for our subsequent operations, await my orders." "Yes, yes, I understand." Liu Antai breathed a sigh of relief and said hurriedly, "Whenever Team Leader Zhang gives the word, I will go through fire and water without hesitation." "You are too modest, far too modest," Zhang Jiaju said with a faint smile. "Go on, go ahead." Liu Antai bowed to Zhang Jiaju and cautiously took his leave. Just as Cao Anmin was about to speak, he caught the chilling glint in his team leader's eyes. He swallowed hard, not daring to say another word. Zhang Jiaju grunted and headed downstairs with a dark scowl. Watching Zhang Jiaju's back, Cao Anmin's facial muscles twitched before breaking into a grin. *** Standing by the roadside, Zhang Jiaju had regained his calm. He waved his hand. A rickshaw puller—an operative of the Party Affairs Investigation Department in disguise—hurried over. "Team Leader." "Tail Liu Antai. Don't let him spot you," Zhang Jiaju instructed in a low voice as he stepped onto the carriage. "Understood."