"You analyzed the situation over in Lücheng," Dai Peilin said, his eyes glittering as he looked at Fang Jibai. "However, there is one person's name you didn't mention. Did you not think of him, or were you unwilling to speak?"
Fang Jibai lowered his gaze, then looked back up at Dai Peilin with a faint, bitter smile. "Brother Dai, after all, I'm an outsider."
"Speak," Dai Peilin said, tapping his fingers lightly on the desk.
"Yes, Brother Dai. Zeng Qing is also suspicious," Fang Jibai said helplessly. "When the gunman opened fire, Zeng Qing failed to detect it in advance, but he bears little blame for that."
"However," he continued, his expression turning solemn as he looked at Dai Peilin, "where was Zeng Qing when the enemy disguised themselves as police officers to ambush Secretary Dongfang?"
Analyzing the problem, Fang Jibai was entirely focused. "Whether out of the duty to provide close protection to Secretary Dongfang or safeguarding the codebook Secretary Dongfang was carrying on his person, Zeng Qing should have remained glued to his side. Yet at the critical moment, he was absent."
Dai Peilin said nothing, appearing lost in thought.
"Bainian, what's your take?" Dai Peilin turned his head toward the figure standing behind the door and said.
Fang Jibai looked at the man as well. He had to be Dai Peilin's most trusted confidant. After following Dai Peilin into the room, he had stood silently behind the door without uttering a word, expressionless, his gaze never straying.
In fact, while speaking with Dai Peilin, Fang Jibai had, at a certain moment, subconsciously forgotten that there was another person in the room.
Though it had been only a fleeting instant and had occurred just once, it was enough to put Fang Jibai on his guard and make him deeply wary of the man.
As a battle-tested Bolshevik fighter inside the headquarters of the Nationalist Secret Service, facing the master spy Dai Peilin, this should have been the moment of his highest inner vigilance. Yet to have forgotten this man for even an instant was proof enough of how extraordinary he was.
"Zeng Qing accompanied Dongfang Xu all the way from Lücheng by boat back to Nanjing," "Bainian" said, his face completely impassive. His pace was measured, his enunciation crisp and forceful.
"Dongfang Xu's personal combat abilities are mediocre; he is no match for Zeng Qing." He looked at Fang Jibai. "If Zeng Qing had turned, he could easily have killed Dongfang Xu en route and seized the codebook.
"Furthermore, at Xiaguan Pier, Zeng Qing rushed back in the nick of time and decisively shot the enemy dead, which was how Dongfang Xu was saved.
"How does Mr. Fang explain this?" he asked coldly, staring at Fang Jibai.
"I cannot explain it," Fang Jibai shook his head slightly. "Nor do I need to offer an explanation."
Looking at this stone-faced, deadpan Bainian, he said, "Brother Dai asked me who was suspicious, and I simply provided my analysis. As for investigating the suspicions around him and distinguishing friend from foe, that is the work of the Secret Service."
Fang Jibai had expected the man to take offense at his words. Instead, after a few seconds of silence—as if pondering the matter—the man actually nodded. "Fair point."
With that, he fell silent once more.
Dai Peilin watched all of this with sharp eyes, offering no comment, seemingly having no intention of introducing the man to Fang Jibai either.
***
"I know you have a smoking habit. Why haven't you touched the cigarettes on the table?" Dai Peilin asked suddenly.
"I'll tell the truth, but please don't be angry, Brother Dai," Fang Jibai replied.
"Go on, speak. Brother Dai won't be angry," Dai Peilin said, unable to suppress a chuckle.
"I... I was afraid the cigarettes were poisoned," Fang Jibai stammered.
Dai Peilin froze for a moment, then flew into a mock rage, scolding, "You idiot! What kind of place do you take me, Dai Peilin, and my Secret Service for? Some demon's lair that slaughters innocents without batting an eye?"
"There isn't the slightest smell of smoke in this reception room, and the ashtray on the table is spotless. I smelled it—there wasn't even a trace of cigarette odor on it. Yet in a place like this, you offer me a pack of cigarettes." Having been scolded, Fang Jibai seemed somewhat sullen yet visibly nervous and intimidated. But because the man across from him was "Brother Dai," that seemed to give him courage, and he finally stiffened his neck and said, "If that doesn't scream trouble, what does?"
Dai Peilin stared at Fang Jibai, his gaze probing. Suddenly, the corners of his mouth curved upward, and he pointed at the pack. "This pack of Marlboros isn't poisoned. Smoke in peace."
"Yes, sir." Fang Jibai didn't stand on ceremony. He tore open the seal, tapped out a cigarette, struck a match to light it, took a gentle drag, and relaxed with a look of contentment.
Zeng Bainian, who had remained expressionless all this time, finally showed a flicker of surprise. Yet behind his deadpan facade, that surprise was so faint that it would be imperceptible without close scrutiny.
Fang Jibai exhaled twin streams of smoke from his nostrils.
Dai Peilin brought his right hand to his mouth and cleared his throat softly.
Fang Jibai looked at Dai Peilin in mild surprise, then swiftly and decisively crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray.
Dai Peilin glanced at Fang Jibai. Though he said nothing, the appreciation in his eyes deepened.
He was a non-smoker. He believed that smoking created an addiction that was difficult to break; unwilling to be controlled by anything, he never smoked.
However, for social occasions, he always carried cigarettes with him.
Just then, a knock sounded on the reception room door.
Zeng Bainian opened the door and took a document from outside.
"Boss," he said, handing the document to Dai Peilin with both hands.
Dai Peilin untied the string on the document folder, pulled out two sheets of paper, and looked down to read them.
"Zeng Qing is not currently under suspicion," Dai Peilin said flatly, looking at Fang Jibai.
"Understood."
"Aren't you curious about what's written in the file?" Dai Peilin studied Fang Jibai with interest.
"Zeng Qing is a member of the Secret Service, and an investigation into him is an internal matter for the Secret Service," Fang Jibai said. "Strictly speaking, this investigation report constitutes classified material of the Secret Service."
He looked at Dai Peilin and added, "It would be improper for me to look."
"No harm in looking," Dai Peilin said.
He laid the document on the table and pushed it forward.
Fang Jibai glanced at the two sheets of paper. He made no move to reach for them, his face showing hesitation.
Dai Peilin said nothing, merely watching Fang Jibai with a meaningful look.
"Brother Dai." Fang Jibai's expression turned serious. He looked at Dai Peilin, then suddenly gave a bitter smile and said, "May I choose not to look?"
"Of course," Dai Peilin nodded. "Forced melon is never sweet. If your ambitions lie elsewhere, that's fine too."
Then, to his astonishment, Fang Jibai lifted his backside from the chair, reached out, grabbed the two classified pages, plunked right back down, and began reading them intently.
Dai Peilin said nothing. He reached out a hand, and Zeng Bainian walked over to hand him the briefcase sitting on the chair beside him. Dai Peilin took a black leather notebook from the briefcase, flipped to a page, uncapped his fountain pen, and bent his head to write swiftly.
"Brother Dai, I've finished reading," Fang Jibai said, turning the document face down on the table.
"When working, address me by my title," Dai Peilin said unhurriedly as he capped the fountain pen and closed the black leather notebook. He lifted his eyes to Fang Jibai, speaking in a flat tone.
Chapter 47