"Qiu Jingwen, why aren't you surprised at all? They're all people from your workshop."
"Secretary Zhou, actually---".
Qiu Jingwen really wanted to tell Zhou Huaihai that he was also a spy, and he also wanted to tell his leader that he had long forgotten about being a spy. He had never lived as a spy until the appearance of the barber Liu Han awakened his spy identity.
"Actually what? You're hiding something from me?"
"No, boss, it's all in the past. I will work hard from now on."
Next, Qiu Jingwen reported the recent production situation to Zhou Huaihai. He also knew that he should focus his efforts on production and contribute to the military industry. As for how Shao Jian and the others would deal with his murder of Liu Han, he no longer thought about it. In any case, the worst-case scenario was that he would go to jail for a few years, and his wife and son should not be affected.
Life went on as usual. About a week later, Qiu Jingwen had just started work when he received a call from Zhou Huaihai, who personally told him to come to the factory's management office immediately, saying that provincial and municipal leaders were there.
"Secretary Zhou, what do they want with me?" Qiu Jingwen asked somewhat guiltily.
"Qiu Jingwen, I don't know either. The leaders of the Provincial Military Industry Bureau are also here, so it must be something important."
After hanging up the phone, Qiu Jingwen straightened his clothes, got on his bicycle, and headed straight for the guesthouse.
It must have nothing to do with his killing of Liu Han. Otherwise, Zhou Huaihai wouldn't have been so polite, and the police should have been the ones looking for him. But provincial and municipal leaders had come to see him. Qiu Jingwen thought of everything he could think of, but still couldn't find a reason or explanation.
With curiosity and a desire to uncover the truth, I parked my bicycle, pushed open the door, and entered the conference room. There were five or six people sitting around the conference table. Apart from Chen Sheng and Zhou Huaihai from the Municipal Bureau, whom I recognized, the others were all strangers, all in their sixties or seventies. One of them was an elderly man who was about seventy years old, with graying temples, but he was in good spirits and had a kind face.
The meeting room was quiet; no one spoke. You could almost hear the flowers on the table blooming. The brief silence made Qiu Jingwen feel extremely awkward. No one had told him why he had come, nor had anyone introduced him to these strangers. He didn't know which were the city leaders and which were the provincial leaders, and he couldn't understand why these provincial and municipal leaders were meeting with him.
"Awen, come sit next to me."
That was the old man's voice; there was an empty chair next to him.
Qiu Jingwen almost burst into tears when he heard the name "Awen." This was the name his parents used to call him when he was a child, as well as the name some uncles and elders he knew. In his memory, it all happened before the liberation. After he started working, got married, and had children, no one called him "Awen" so affectionately anymore.
Qiu Jingwen walked to the old man's side, stared at him, and memories flooded his mind: "You---you are Uncle Wang Chen?!"
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