Chapter 28: Contact
Getting up at seven in the morning is a bit too early for a lawyer.
It’s not about oversleeping; big lawyers always arrive fashionably late—that’s called style.
It’s like with cars: you have to buy an expensive one. Those who arrive early and take rickshaws are all small lawyers.
But today there was a mission in the morning, so Gu Yansheng had to get up early and head out early.
To fit He Yun’s current identity as a housewife who just arrived in Shanghai and has nothing to do, Gu Yansheng had set the time with He Yun for eight in the morning.
A woman who just arrived in Shanghai was harassed by the Police Station last night and suddenly had the brilliant idea to naturalize in France for protection. Going early to inquire about naturalization matters fits the psychology of someone under investigation.
If the people at 67 get bored and verify it, the reason left for them to consider will certainly be fully reasonable.
And the woman’s displayed naivety can add another layer of protective coloration for He Yun.
He took a rickshaw, and Gu Yansheng arrived at the entrance of the central Department Store in the French Concession.
He couldn’t go directly to the destination—that was a matter of principle. Gu Yansheng got off, went into the Department Store and casually bought a designer wallet, then walked to the destination.
He passed by and observed the Municipal Council; there were no Tea Houses nearby, so as a fallback, there was a coffee shop at the corner.
Gu Yansheng wasn’t sure now exactly how to contact He Yun; it would depend on the situation on site.
He checked his watch; there were still twenty minutes left.
He took a Newspaper and flipped through it.
On the other side, He Yun also headed out early.
She rented a place in Shangxian Lane in the French Concession, a standard old-style alleyway residence.
Not facing the street, the alleyway passage was quite narrow, with houses on both sides.
There were some shops opened at the base of the houses, makeshift shops run by poor people: haircuts, selling clothes, bicycle repairs—basically livelihoods needed by the neighbors. Business in the front room, living in the back room, two tiny rooms. During the day, stalls were set up on the ground at the entrance; at night, they were packed away and the door locked. The Concession was full of poor refugees, and poor people had their own way of living.
She rented there mainly because it was cheap. Before entering the Police Station, she had given all the gold bars to Gu Yansheng, so after paying the rent, she and Lu Bowen together had less than 300 Legal Tender—extremely poor.
And this 300 Legal Tender still had to maintain Lu Bowen’s dignity of drinking coffee and taking rickshaws, making life even tighter, so for travel, she relied entirely on walking.
Fortunately, she was used to walking in Yan’an, so it wasn’t a big problem.
She had no problem, but the two people behind her had a big problem.
The two trackers were complaining endlessly.
Back when tasks were assigned at the Police Station entrance, they still thought it was a good job.
A tracking mission with both male and female—that definitely meant tracking the woman: easy and safe.
Women, the ordinary ones, buy vegetables in the morning, then go home to cook, and basically don’t go out all day.
Rich young ladies sleep until late morning, at most go out in the afternoon for afternoon tea, play mahjong with friends—nothing else.
Who knew they’d run into this woman, a total weirdo who couldn’t sit still for a moment.
The first day just released from the Police Station, it was pretty late, and she was still safe and sound.
The next morning early, this woman went out to find an agent and started looking at houses.
At first they thought she might be using house-hunting as a cover to make contact.
That was possible.
So they very seriously recorded the agent chatting with this woman: information on which houses they viewed, whether they chatted with the house owners, how long they chatted, whether they entered a room out of sight and for how long, who else they contacted in between—all information noted down.
Then following along, they discovered this woman really could look: renting a house, she viewed more than a dozen alleys and over thirty houses in one day. Fine, looking is looking, but crucially, this woman refused to take a car, walking the whole way, forcing them to walk too. By the end of the day, their legs were worn thin.
And this woman didn’t look tired at all.
And that wasn’t all; the bigger problem was with the records.
By reason, everyone the target contacts must be recorded.
But the people this woman contacted—not counting those gossiping women on the alley edges who only chatted a sentence or two—still numbered over a hundred, damn it.
When the target returned to the Hotel at night, they handed over and reported the mission to Wu Sibao, only to get cursed out bloody.
“Over 100 people! Why didn’t you just copy the household registration book? Where am I supposed to find people to investigate them all? Any useful information at all?”
“We couldn’t be sure who had issues, so we copied them all—what now, investigate or not?”
“Investigate, of course! You copied them, might as well. So what, work overtime, put in some effort, verify all these people’s information, see if there’s anything suspicious.”
“Me? Us?”
We’d followed all day, our legs are swollen?
Damn!
The next day the woman house-hunted all day again.
When does this end?
But good news: at dinnertime, this woman finally picked a house. The owner vouched, happily seeing her out—looked like the contract was signed.
Today they got smart, only casually noted a dozen or so, and told Wu Sibao she found a house, so fewer today.
This smart move let them get off work at ten at night and go back to drink and celebrate.
Thinking the house was rented, tomorrow they could finally rest their feet.
By dawn, this woman went out again—not house-hunting anymore, but picking furniture.
In one day, she scoured all the furniture markets in the Concession.
Damn!
You sure can shop!
Not recording anymore, screw recording! If they recorded all, it’d be over 200 in a day.
Finally, they tailed her another full day—it was three days now—and their feet had bloody blisters, but that woman looked fine.
House rented, furniture bought—today she should rest, right?
Who’d have thought, this woman got up at 6, buying vegetables, cooking, finished breakfast by 7:30, and out again.
When will this end!
This couldn’t be blamed on He Yun; He Yun had no choice.
Back then, to explain the missing half hour reasonably, she left in the confession that she was thrifty by nature.
How much money she had, the people at 67 knew clearly.
So now, to fit the personality, she could only keep house-hunting nonstop, seeking the most cost-effective one.
Then, she also left that she loved shopping.
Today was for contacting Gu Yansheng; otherwise, she’d be at the Department Store shopping.
The two trackers behind suffered absentmindedly, faces full of bitterness.
While He Yun looked calm, but her eyes kept searching for Gu Yansheng’s figure. Even when she reached the Municipal Council entrance, she still hadn’t spotted him.
She couldn’t linger outside, so she went straight in and asked the staff how to naturalize in France.
The answer was impossible; they directly told her to leave.
She tried tangling with the staff a bit, but they didn’t even give her time to stall, directly calling the security guard at the entrance to throw her out.
Helpless, she could only leave disappointed, no chance for contact at all.
Wait, there was a chance—He Yun’s eyes lit up.
Gu Yansheng would find a chance to come out and contact her—that was Lu Bowen’s guess; Gu Yansheng hadn’t said it.
What Gu Yansheng had said was: go to the Municipal Council, then go home.
Go home!
He Yun roughly guessed the contact method. She walked home normally, greeting neighbors, returned to her room, closed her eyes, and listened carefully.
Fifteen minutes later—yep—in the small courtyard connected to the kitchen, the sound of pebbles hitting the ground suddenly rang out: inconspicuous, unnoticed if not listening carefully.
But He Yun’s eyes snapped open, she smiled—right!
She casually grabbed a few clothes and towels, wet them with water, went up to the rooftop platform to hang the towels, and glanced down: sure enough, in the alley behind, Gu Yansheng casually lifted his head, gave her a smile, gone in a flash.
