Departing for Shanghai
Midsummer of the 18th year of the Republic of China.
A breeze swept across the sea, creating a white spray that eventually turned into foam and disappeared into the deep blue ocean. This was a luxury cruise ship traveling from Paris to Shanghai, its flags fluttering in the wind.
Under the flag, a group of ladies dressed in gorgeous cheongsams and Western-style dresses emerged from the restaurant, satisfied, and parted ways on the deck.
"A thousand-gold dagger with mottled patterns, a daughter's love and hatred are trivial matters. One day I will discuss the righteous path with you, and I wish to ride the Black Guard out of the green mountains." He Qingcheng recited the poem in a very good mood. She had an oriental face, and her hair was permed in the most fashionable way. She was more than half a head taller than others, and her black dress made her look even more fair and tall, standing out from the crowd.
Her gaze swept over the various races on the deck, but after she finished reciting the song, no one joined in. Where were they? Qingcheng frowned slightly, her eyes darting around, and then slowly began to sing a section of the opera "Black and White Guards": "My name is Nie Yinniang, I have mastered my skills in three years, and returned to seek out mountains and rivers, and visit sages..."
Suddenly, she bumped into a hard object from behind. As Qingcheng turned around to apologize, the middle-aged man who had been bumped into took off his hat and replied with a smile, "Since you have mastered the art of seclusion, it is difficult to find a sage. Why not visit an old friend first?"
"Who is this old friend?"
"Liu, the Minister of Works."
He's here! Kiyosumi tried to control her wildly beating heart and asked the unfamiliar man, "Sir, are you very familiar with the play 'Black and White Guards'?"
"If you like it, then we'll get to know each other. Do you smoke, miss?" the man said, handing her a slender, evenly shaped cigarette.
"Excuse me, I just finished eating and don't want to smell smoke." Kiyosumi waved her hand in refusal, her wariness growing.
No, the token is wrong!
"It's alright, keep it for now, you can smoke it when we get to Shanghai." The man was being overly enthusiastic and insisted on giving it to her. Qingcheng held her breath as she took the cigarette and put it in her handbag, her mind racing as she considered how to escape. There was still an hour before they reached the shore, and in that time, she had nowhere to run.
Miss He covered her mouth slightly, and between the opening and closing of her red lips, her soft Wu dialect flowed out: "Thank you for the cigarette. I never expected to meet a kindred spirit on the ship. I will definitely tell my sisters about today's adventure later."
"Miss, you haven't told me your name yet," the middle-aged man asked.
"Hehe, sir, your approach to striking up a conversation was too direct. See you again sometime." Kiyosumi blinked and left the deck, feigning nonchalance.
The man followed her back to the rest area, so Qingcheng could only walk faster towards her cabin, the sound of his footsteps behind her making it hard for her to breathe. She didn't dare to turn around, but out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a familiar door number, and suddenly stopped and knocked on the door.
Dodo dodo—Kiyoshi prayed to the heavens, and someone was inside the house.
However, after knocking dozens of times, there was no response from inside. She figured the homeowner had gone out for some fresh air. Qingcheng's heart sank. Even though it was the hottest part of the afternoon, her hands and feet felt numb. The man stood behind her, smiling maliciously. The slight bulge in his side indicated he was carrying a weapon.
Swallowing hard, Qingcheng forced a bright smile and maintained a straight face. This person was definitely not the same one who passed her the note at the restaurant. Strange! How could her secret code have been leaked? Where did things go wrong? Could it be that something unclean got in during the resupply stop in Hong Kong?
Before she could figure out what to do next, the door next door clicked open, and another familiar face, Mrs. Wan, popped her head out: "Oh, it's Miss He. The foreigner next door hasn't come back yet. I happen to have something to discuss with you."
"Oh! Mrs. Wan, you are my reincarnation!" Qingcheng affectionately took Mrs. Wan's arm and followed her into the cabin. Qingcheng, having solved the immediate problem, immediately locked the door from the inside. However, judging from the shadow cast at the bottom of the door crack, the man was standing outside.
"Mrs. Wan, the people on this ship are getting more and more rude," Qingcheng complained loudly, seizing the opportunity. Mrs. Wan, not understanding why, poured her a glass of water and told Qingcheng not to rush and to speak slowly.
"You don't know, a shady middle-aged man just hit on me. I was polite to him, but he thought I was interested in him and kept asking for my name. I ignored him, and then he started following me. He's still at the door now, it scared me to death." Qingcheng leaned against Mrs. Wan with a wronged expression, but her gaze was fixed on the shadows by the door.
"Wait here, Auntie will handle it." Mrs. Wan angrily dialed the service center. "Hello, this is Special 102. There's a shady man in the corridor who's scared our young ladies. Yes, please send someone over quickly and kick him out. Anyone can run into the special zone, the management is terrible."
Hearing the chaotic footsteps outside, Qingcheng's water glass trembled slightly as she worried that the person might have a weapon that could accidentally go off. Meanwhile, Mrs. Wan stood at the door, gossiping and peeking through the peephole, giving Qingcheng a real-time update on the situation outside.
After a while, things quieted down outside, leaving only the sound of waves crashing against the ship's side, and the chill on my back was slowly receding...
Dodo—
The normal knocking startled Qingcheng, causing her hand to tremble and spill water all over herself. She quickly took out a handkerchief to wipe the water stains. It turned out to be a room service attendant, and only then did she feel a little relieved.
"See, the complaint worked! They even gave us a small gift as an apology. One for you, one for me." Mrs. Wan handed a beautifully packaged cardboard box to Qingcheng in high spirits.
Qingcheng was wearing black lace short gloves, and you could vaguely see the red nail polish on her fingertips. However, these gloves captivated Mrs. Wan. One moment she asked Qingcheng to tell her where she bought them, and the next she lamented that her ten short, chubby fingers didn't look good in them.
"Mrs. Wan, didn't you want to see me about something? What is it?" Qingcheng was both amused and exasperated by her, and quickly pulled her back to the main topic, as she still needed to find her contact person later.
"Look at my memory, Miss He, my husband is the secretary-general of the municipal government. The municipal government will be holding a charity gala in a few days. Would you do me the honor of attending?" Mrs. Wan asked with great interest.
“Sure, I haven’t found a job yet anyway, so I have free time every day.” Kiyosumi smiled elegantly.
"You only have a few days off. Soon the publishing house staff will be driving you crazy. I've already sent the invitation to the Fang residence," Mrs. Wan asked politely.
“Okay, I entrusted all my mail to my aunt during my studies abroad,” Ms. He replied affirmatively.
"Then I'm relieved. Such a good child, how come he doesn't have a boyfriend? Auntie will go back and study the list of male guests carefully, and introduce you to the best young talents in Shanghai." As Mrs. Wan spoke, she opened the cardboard box from earlier, inside which lay four chocolates.
Looking at her cardboard box, she suddenly understood something. After saying goodbye to Mrs. Wan, she quickly walked back to her cabin and eagerly opened the cardboard box in her hand. Sure enough, what was in her box was not chocolate, but a hand-rolled cigarette, thick in the middle and thin at both ends.
Oh right, this is the rendezvous token!
Find the edge, Qingcheng gently tears the cigarette open, throws all the tobacco into the trash can, leaving only the white paper of the cigarette. He flattens it slightly, then takes out a match, shines it, and places it under the white paper.
A few seconds later, smoky-colored words gradually appeared on the white paper: "Black and White Guards have been exposed. Use the Empty City Strategy. Find the messenger at the dock. Store fixed supplies in the attic of No. 1813 Yuyuan Road. Remit funds for moving supplies as originally planned."
There was also a brass key in the box, probably the key to Yuyuan Road. According to the rules, all confidential documents are to be burned after being read.
Now she needs to calmly analyze how many "rats" are on this ship and how she can escape their surveillance.
With a mournful whistle, the ship carried passengers to the dreamlike, nighttime Paris of the East—Shanghai.
Meanwhile, on the other side, a banquet was waiting to begin.
The spacious room is furnished with a full set of mahogany European-style furniture, which looks luxurious and grand. The round table by the fireplace is filled with a dazzling array of delicacies, quietly emitting steam, as if waiting for the start of a lively party.
There was no gathering. Two men walked in from outside. Both of them were wearing old blue military uniforms from the Northern Expedition era. The younger officer considerately pulled out a high-backed chair for the middle-aged officer and only sat down after the middle-aged officer had taken his seat.
After they were seated, the young officer took the middle-aged officer's hat and lit a cigarette for him. The middle-aged man smoked his cigarette and casually offered one to the young officer, who politely declined with a smile.
It wasn't that he was being pretentious; he really didn't smoke. Let alone cigarettes, he had no appetite even looking at the table full of delicious food. The Stars and Fires had moved, and the Northern Expedition was over, but the situation of China being torn apart had not improved.
In times of prosperity, the people suffer; in times of ruin, the people suffer. War is always merciless. As a soldier with a conscience, how can one not feel heartache and sorrow upon seeing people displaced, families torn apart? Perhaps only by immersing oneself in the game can one unravel this predicament.
At this moment, the middle-aged officer placed a piece of pickled fish on his chopsticks and looked at him meaningfully. Looking at the green soup and white meat in the bowl, he was a little dumbfounded. The commander knew that he couldn't eat spicy food. What kind of test was this?
However, under the middle-aged officer's eager gaze, he still forced himself to take a bite. Instantly, the numbing sensation exploded on his tongue, followed by a burning spiciness that shot straight into his throat. The two flavors overlapped as if a silver bottle had shattered, causing him to cough violently.
Perhaps seeing his own pitiful appearance, the middle-aged officer smiled and poured him a cup of tea, his deep voice ringing in his ear: "Junxiao, do you find it numbing and spicy, hard to swallow?"
He was too spicy to speak, so he could only nod vigorously while downing the tea in his cup. Setting down the cup, he saw the middle-aged officer extinguish his cigarette, calmly pick up a piece of the same fish, and pop it into his mouth, his face full of enjoyment.
Based on past experience, he knew the commander had something to say, so he immediately opened the bottle and poured a glass of baijiu for each of them, respectfully holding the glass and waiting for the commander to speak.
"Delicious, the meat is springy and smooth, and the fish slices are thin." The commander commented on the fish and then sniffed hard. "Hmm~ The Sichuan peppercorns add a refreshing touch to the fish flavor, elevating the fish's freshness to another level. Most importantly, the cooking time is just right."
He thought it was some golden advice, so he sighed and drank his wine. But then he realized that the commander seemed to have a hidden meaning in his words. However, he couldn't appreciate the taste of pickled fish, so he couldn't understand the commander's meaning. He could only ask, "Commander, don't beat around the bush. I'm just a rough man, not as smart as you think."
"Junxiao, humility is a virtue, but excessive humility is hypocrisy. Congratulations, you've already learned the first step to being an official." The commander didn't know if it was praise or criticism; something just didn't sit right with him.
He could only earnestly explain to his superior, "Um, I'm not going to Shanghai to take up an official post; I'm going to suppress bandits. Besides, I'm only temporarily stationed in Shanghai; I won't be staying there permanently."
"The Nanjing Command personally issued the letter of appointment, appointing Gao Junxiao as the Director-General of the East China Bandit Suppression Supervision Office, and at the same time relieving him of his relevant positions as the Commander of the Second Division of the Ninth Army. This appointment is effective immediately upon issuance, right, Director Gao?" The commander said, placing another chopstick of shredded pork with garlic sauce on his plate.
"No, no, no, Commander, you misunderstand. I didn't retire from the military to go into politics. I just switched from fighting old warlords to fighting bandits." Hearing himself mentioned, Gao Junxiao hurriedly shook his head in denial, then jokingly added, "How about I come back as your adjutant after we've wiped out the bandits?"
The commander took a sip of his wine and decisively refused: "No, hiding talented people and not handing them over to the country is a crime, and I can't bear that crime."
"Who dares to punish you? You're a real troublemaker! Even the principal would have to give you some face." Gao Junxiao tactfully filled both of their glasses, then clinked glasses with the commander's and downed his drink first.
After finishing his drink, the commander couldn't help but tease, "You brat, wouldn't it be better to go to Whampoa Military Academy as an instructor and enjoy a government salary? Why did you have to wade into the muddy waters of Shanghai?"
"Commander, I'm on government rations now. Besides, Shanghai is known as the Paris of the East. The Bund, with its dazzling lights and vibrant nightlife, is something I long for." Gao Junxiao deliberately described Shanghai as a paradise.
"Don't try to fool me, you know what I'm talking about. Shanghai is a melting pot of various forces, including foreign powers like Britain, France, and Japan, as well as local Shanghai gangsters. The mix of flavors is as stimulating as pickled fish." The commander used food as a metaphor, and of course, the commander understood.
"Since it's a provocation, let it be a provocation only for me. Shanghai has a special significance for China, both economically and geographically. We can only do our best to protect our country." Gao Junxiao sat upright, like a green bamboo standing tall, with unyielding spirit.
"Why do you need excitement? Isn't comfort better? Hurry up and try the shredded pork with garlic sauce." Under the commander's stern gaze, Gao Junxiao nodded and finished the dish in his bowl. This shredded pork with garlic sauce was really good, with a perfect balance of saltiness and sweet and sour flavor, suitable for both northern and southern palates.
"Is the shredded pork with garlic sauce delicious?" the commander asked, glancing at Gao Junxiao.
This brief glance was worth a thousand words. Gao Junxiao's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately understood what the commander was about to say. He didn't know when this tacit understanding had been formed, but by the time he realized it, he could already read the commander's mind.
"Both dishes are sour and spicy, so why can't you eat pickled fish, but you enjoy shredded pork with garlic sauce?" the commander asked rhetorically.
"Commander, we have different tastes, please eat more." Gao Junxiao put several more large mouthfuls of food on the commander's plate, trying to shut him up with food.
"Life has five flavors: sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, and salty. Pickled cabbage fish has four of them, but it lacks sweetness. Only shredded pork with fish-fragrant sauce has all five flavors and caters to both the north and the south." The commander seemed to see through his little thoughts, put down his chopsticks and continued, "Since you don't like pickled cabbage fish, why not get married, have children and make money, and taste what sweetness is?"
Here we go again. Their commander is a master of pressuring people to get married. Gao Junxiao forced a smile: "Commander, I don't actually like sweet food."
"Heh, you can't talk about ice with a summer insect." The commander glared at Gao Junxiao with exasperation.
"You can't talk about ice with a summer insect," Gao Junxiao thought with a hint of melancholy, but he still stated a fact in a reporting tone. "There's no suitable girl, Commander."
"What do you mean by suitable and unsuitable? You can't squander your youth. Quickly find someone who cares for you and have a child as lovely as you. Wouldn't that be great?" the commander earnestly advised.
"Hahaha, Commander, so you think I'm cute? Actually, I'm quite annoyed with my younger self, honestly." Gao Junxiao laughed awkwardly. Now he felt like a student waiting for get out of class to end, a strange anxiety seeping into his veins. His thoughts had long since flown to the ends of the earth, and he just wanted to slip away as fast as he could.
"Be serious!" The commander's stern shout brought Gao Junxiao back to his senses. "How many beautiful young ladies from prestigious families have I introduced you to? You didn't like any of them? Fine, then find someone yourself. You're almost thirty and don't even have a wife."
"My commander, it's because they look down on me. I'm just a roughneck; all I know is how to fight." Gao Junxiao was quite helpless. Who did he bother by not getting married? What law of the country did he break? Why was he criticized everywhere, as if he had done something heinous?
"You think you're so right? When you're on a blind date, you deliberately talk about your bloody past, how many enemies you killed, how many bunkers you blew up. I wanted to blow your head off, let alone the girl." The commander's face turned red with anger.
"Oh dear, I just can't seem to connect with the ladies," Gao Junxiao chuckled, taking a sip of his drink behind his back.
"Bullshit! Why don't you talk to him about art and ideals?" Just as he was about to argue, the commander drew his pistol, slammed it on the table, and roared, "If you dare say you don't understand art, I'll clean house for Master Hongyuan right now, and pretend that he never accepted that closed-door disciple."
“Commander, look at my hands. They don’t look like the hands of a painter or an artist anymore. They’re the hands of a soldier.” Gao Junxiao spread out his calloused hands and argued, “Soldiers are duty-bound to protect their country. How can we have a home when the great powers are still alive? I’m going to create a safe haven for the children to paint in peace.”
After going around in circles, the commander brought the topic back: "We need to protect everyone, but we also need to protect our own families. Didn't you say Shanghai is the Paris of the East? Why don't you go to Shanghai and find a wife?"
"I've already handed over this guy, weighing only a hundred pounds, to the country, so I shouldn't go and ruin other girls' lives." Gao Junxiao felt that his tone couldn't be more sincere. He felt that he really couldn't balance work and family, and that would be very unfair to his future wife.
"You brat, still trying to argue? According to your logic, does that mean none of us soldiers should get married? When I was your age, I already had three sons in my family. Of the three unfilial acts, the greatest is to have no offspring." The commander echoed his words, quoting a classic theory.
Gao Junxiao's eyelids twitched, and he could only bring up his arrogant older brother: "It's okay, our family has an heir. I'm not an only child. My brother already has two sons."
“That’s your brother’s son,” the commander blurted out without thinking.
“Yes, so they are descendants of the Gao family, no problem.” Gao Junxiao blinked and played word games with his leader.
"Hmph! You can't reason with me now, but you'll understand once you've tasted the sweetness. The person you end up with is often the one you least expect." Commander Yi, speaking from experience, refilled Gao Junxiao's glass.
"With the Commander's auspicious words, Junxiao will drink first as a sign of respect." Amidst the clinking of glasses, Gao Junxiao felt a certain conviction being conveyed to him through the wine glass. Embracing his old commander's expectations, he mixed the wine into his throat and swallowed a piece of pure heart.
Setting down his wine glass, the commander uttered his final words of advice for the day: "On your journey to the Dragon's Den and Tiger's Cave, you must carry out Dr. Sun Yat-sen's teachings, serve the public and the people, uphold the Doctrine of the Mean, neither leaning to the left nor the right, and talk less about doctrines and do more work."
“Junxiao knows what he's doing.” Gao Junxiao nodded solemnly.
Suddenly, the commander clapped his hands, and a guard walked in, carrying a set of new yellow-green military uniforms with red and gold collar insignia that gleamed.
The commander pointed to the new uniform and said, "I have nothing to give you as a parting gift, so I'll have the clothing factory cut out your new uniform first. Keep it safe."
"Thank you, Commander. It's almost time, Commander. Junxiao needs to catch the train." Gao Junxiao glanced at the Western-style clock; it was almost time for him to leave.
Before Gao Junxiao could get up, the commander said in an unquestionable tone, "Get married as soon as possible, that's an order."
"Yes, sir. Mission accomplished." Gao Junxiao habitually straightened up and saluted, then put on a fawning smile. "Commander, may I leave now?"
"Go away, go away, don't come to see me if you don't have a wife." The commander waved his hand and started to shoo people away.
"Goodbye, Commander." After saluting again, Gao Junxiao turned and walked out of the office.
As soon as he stepped outside, Gao Junxiao saw his adjutant, Lu Xian, carrying two large leather suitcases. It seemed like he had been waiting for a long time. However, Lu Xian had a gossipy smile on his face, which made Gao Junxiao furious. He angrily threw the new military uniform at Lu Xian, not caring whether the man could carry it or not.
"Commander, no, Brother, is Commander Tan pressuring you to get married again?" Lieutenant Lu quickly changed his form of address, his smile undiminished even as he struggled to carry the three items.
"All you do is laugh. You're not getting any younger. The commander's been pretty free lately. I'm thinking of keeping you here so you can keep him company and indulge in your matchmaking fantasies," Gao Junxiao threatened, his hands behind his back.
"Commander, wherever you go, I will go. I swear to follow you to the death!" Lieutenant Lu shouted the slogan, his smile fading.
"Tsk, you've even learned to flatter now. Looks like you haven't been practicing enough lately. I'll give you individual training when we get to Shanghai." Gao Junxiao patted Lieutenant Lu on the shoulder, his signature slight smile on his face.
Seeing Gao Junxiao's signature smile, the adjutant pursed his lips, his eyes filled with terror, and obediently followed behind the man, not daring to utter another word.
The sounds of cruise ship whistles and old-fashioned green trains mingled together on the sea, ultimately converging on the same destination.
The Bund's collection of international buildings came into view, and finally, the cruise ship slowly docked at the Shiliupu Wharf.
Both sides of the ship were crowded with tourists waiting to disembark. Qingcheng, carrying four suitcases, mingled in the middle. When the middle-aged man saw that she was alone, he squeezed next to her. Qingcheng smiled slightly, thinking, "I was just afraid you wouldn't come."
As the gate opened, passengers who had been on the ship for several days filed out through the passage, all eager to feel the solid ground beneath their feet.
Suddenly, a scream erupted from the crowd, followed by a sharp slap. A foreign woman on the boat angrily slapped a middle-aged man behind her. Her husband then started fighting with the man, claiming that he had sexually assaulted his wife.
The crew quickly pulled the men aside to clear the passage. While the others were scrambling, Qingcheng had already moved to the side passage and landed safely on solid ground. The other man, however, wasn't so lucky; he'd likely be spending a few days in jail.
The docks were teeming with semi-open surveillance "rats." Qingcheng gazed at the bustling docks, unable to find the messenger. Why wasn't the secret letter more specific? It was driving him crazy with guessing.
Carrying the heavy suitcase, she tried to keep her distance from the "rat" as she slowly walked to the crossroads ahead. There weren't many pedestrians there, only a few rickshaw drivers squatting beside their rickshaws waiting for customers to choose them.
Well, maybe she should just wait here. The messenger was changed at the last minute, so he probably won't be here anytime soon.
"I am a carefree man from Wolonggang, who can discuss Yin and Yang with ease and secure the universe..."
The familiar aria from "The Empty City Stratagem" came to Qingcheng's ears. The voice was hoarse and aged. Qingcheng was delighted and followed the singing to find the old man who was singing. He had a full head of white hair and his thin body was inconspicuous among the group of young and strong coachmen.
The old coachman stood up, rubbed his hands together, and asked respectfully, "Miss, where are you going?"
"Master, I need to go to 1813 Yuyuan Road." He Xiaoqing patted the suitcase with the rhythm of the old man's opera singing.
The old man listened for a while before saying, "Alright. I know that place best."
It's finally connected.
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