Chapter 88: Manifesto
Lu Bowen really guessed it right. The next day’s newspapers extensively reported the explosion incident that occurred in Hongkou.
Actually, as early as yesterday afternoon, this news was already circulating inside the city government. Gu Yansheng didn’t spread it outward, but he couldn’t stop Ling Xianwen and the people around other officials from talking.
Such a big event, once spread, overshadowed the heat of all other news.
In the afternoon, there were incessant calls for interviews, and the city government entrance was piled up with reporters.
By today, the news that Military Statistics Bureau agents had infiltrated and assassinated at a Japanese internal gathering in Hongkou had spread far and wide.
Seven people were killed on the spot, four died after failed rescue attempts, and the remaining seriously injured patients were still in coma. This battle record could be considered the peak achievement even among the Military Statistics Bureau’s actions against the Japanese during this period.
And even more provocative was that the Military Statistics Bureau directly came forward to claim this battle record.
On the news pages of the newspapers, the reporter published that he received a call from a mysterious person who claimed to be the Shanghai District Chief of the Military Statistics Bureau and asked him to publish the manifesto on his behalf to warn the world.
“In the winter of the 27th year of the Republic of China, the blood and fire in Shanghai have not yet subsided.
At the Cherry Blossom Building in Hongkou, seven Japanese Army officers were executed. This is the beginning of the Military Statistics Bureau Shanghai Station’s blood and fire retaliation, not the end!
Japanese invaders can be killed, traitors must be executed!
At the moment when the mountains and rivers are shattered, we act on the handwritten order of Mr. Dai Yunong, using our heads as firewood and our bones and blood to temper the blade.
Even if the Military Statistics Bureau Shanghai Station suffers dark schemes from villains, how can the anti-Japanese beacon fire be extinguished by traitors?
Even if we hide in the concession, we are like a sharp blade hanging over the enemy’s throat. Today you should know that for all who betray the country and collaborate with the enemy, the Military Statistics Bureau’s family law will reach them to the ends of the earth!
To abandon the dark and turn to the light, only blood can wash it away! For those who have once lost their integrity, if you can personally kill one of the close confidants of the traitor Li Shiqun, or one of the close confidants of the traitor Ding Mocun, and bring his head to see us, all past offenses will be pardoned.
If you can execute Li Shiqun, you will be allowed to return under the blue sky and white sun flag. Mr. Dai Yunong will personally act as guarantor and confer the rank of major! The same applies to those who execute Ding Mocun!
If you persist in error, the Iron Blood Anti-Traitor Group will surely knock on your door to visit. On the Military Statistics Bureau’s anti-traitor ledger, there has never been a fish that slipped through the net!
The elders of Shanghai bear witness: yesterday’s explosion was merely the prelude; tomorrow’s thunder will surely shatter the enemy’s courage!
The 100,000 comrades of the Military Statistics Bureau, even if one remains, will repay blood with blood and stop blades with blades!
Until the mountains and rivers are restored, this resolve will not waver!
Military Statistics Bureau Shanghai District.”
The manifesto is really well-written, very morale-boosting.
Gu Yansheng looked at the newspaper in front of him, didn’t smell the ink, but smelled full of gunpowder.
It gives hope of reclaiming identity, letting the captured and turned agents counter-kill back. As long as one person acts, the interior of No. 76 will be filled with suspicion and ghosts, no one trusting anyone.
An excellent counter-espionage ploy.
Li Shiqun and Ding Mocun absolutely won’t sleep well.
But Gu Yansheng is now considering a problem.
It is well known that people who don’t sleep well are prone to emotional outbursts. With this manifesto issued, Li Shiqun and Ding Mocun will absolutely go mad, feeling that even their own subordinates drawing guns is an assassination attempt. Such concerns are inevitable.
And only killing can slightly quell the anger in their hearts; only killing until the Military Statistics Bureau is terrified can suppress the subordinates’ thoughts of jumping back and forth!
If Gu Yansheng were Li Shiqun, the closest and most accessible target right now would be the Military Statistics Bureau hiding in the concession, so his gaze would surely follow, and some might even be within easy reach.
Previously, due to scruples about foreigners in the concession, they were restrained from daring to use guns, but that rule should be scrapped starting today.
At noon, Gu Yansheng was busy until late without eating. At one in the afternoon, Gu Yansheng drove to the French Concession.
First he went to the hospital to register, saw a doctor, consulted on matters to watch for in arsenic poisoning, then went to Xingfei Road for coffee.
Resting one’s feet and eating is always a legitimate reason to come to a cafe near the hospital.
Although he didn’t feel there was any danger, underground work is like this: maintain the routine, always stay vigilant.
“Codfish soup, steak, salad, no red wine, another cup of coffee.”
“Yes, sir, please wait a moment.”
This is a restaurant run by Russians. Gu Yansheng chose a seat with a good view, slowly cutting the steak and chewing slowly.
At the table in front was a pair of young man and woman; the man Chinese, the woman Russian, chatting about the origin of the name of Xingfei Road.
“The setting sun and solitary swan fly together”—romantic Shanghai petty bourgeois like to find a poetic origin for the name of Xingfei Road. The male poet was explaining this common knowledge to the female.
But the female friend didn’t quite agree.
“This is French territory; how could the French use a noun from a poem written by a Chinese when naming it?”
“How is it impossible? Of course it’s possible. Look at Guangdong Road, Guangxi Road, Zhejiang Road—these are all Chinese place names, right? But the concession still uses them to name roads.
When the French named this street, it happened to be full of evening glow and birds chirping. Someone recited this line, and the Chinese director in the Municipal Council heard it, so it was named Xingfei Road.”
The Russian woman was half-believing, still feeling that the French wouldn’t likely use a Chinese poem.
“The author of this poem is called Wang Bo. Do you know where his tomb is? Vietnam.
Whose colony is Vietnam? France’s.
So in the eyes of the French, hasn’t this Wang Bo become their poet?
So what’s strange about using a poem from their own national poet?”
Talented, really good at making things up.
Gu Yansheng listened to the joke while eating. At two forty-five, a middle-aged man in his forties entered, ordered a cup of coffee, then sat at a window seat, holding a newspaper.
That newspaper from four days ago had a photo illustrating Shanghai residents panic-buying grain, so it was easy to recognize.
Upon seeing that photo, Gu Yansheng knew the person he was waiting for had arrived.
“Buy order.” Gu Yansheng finished the last bite and raised his hand.
“Yes, sir, welcome to visit again.”
Gu Yansheng paid, paused his steps when passing by him, “Lend me the newspaper to look at, convenient?”
The middle-aged man hadn’t expected Gu Yansheng to approach from behind, smiled: “Outdated newspaper. Why not buy a new one?”
“I’ve seen the new newspapers; I want to see this news.” Gu Yansheng reached for the newspaper with his right hand, opened his left palm, revealing a torn corner inside, exactly seven characters.
The middle-aged man glanced at it and smiled more heartily: “If you want to see it, go ahead. I’ve finished reading anyway.”
“Thanks.” Gu Yansheng took the newspaper and went out, directly got into the car across the street. The vehicle started and drove a distance, then stopped at the intersection.
Just twenty minutes later, the car rear door opened, and the middle-aged man got in himself.
“The organization told me that the contact this time is an official in the city government. I thought of many people, but didn’t expect it to be you.”
“You know him?” Gu Yansheng started the car, “Where to?”
“Head north; there’s a bridge one kilometer away. At this time, there’s no one under the bridge.
During the prison release prisoner that time, I had someone call Shen Bao pretending to be family and got a few people released, so I’ve paid attention to your information: Shen Linshen, codename Fisherman, cover identity as a tailor at Shen Ji Garment Factory—my shop—and he has an assistant who handles the radio.”
“Hello.” Gu Yansheng shook his hand, “What did the organization tell you?”
“The telegram didn’t specify the reason, just that I’d know when I see you, to cooperate with your actions, and guarantee your safety as the top priority. If necessary, cut off other external contacts—nothing more. What did the organization tell you?”
The car stopped by the roadside; Gu Yansheng and Shen Linshen got out.
At this hour, most people at work hadn’t gotten off yet; under the bridge by the small river, indeed no one.
“Nothing, just to meet you.”
“Ah?” Shen Linshen was slightly surprised but quickly said: “That must be related to our professional attributes. What mission have you reported to the organization recently?”
“Transporting cotton yarn.”
“I understand.”
Shen Linshen nodded: “The organization had us collect cotton yarn. Looks like you got this mission too. You’ve collected some now and plan to transport the cotton yarn out of the city, right?”
“Right.”
“I have contact methods for the transportation station. There’s an underground transportation station here in Shanghai that I set up. The organization probably arranged for us to meet for this reason. My transportation station plus your power—combined, transporting will definitely be safer.”
Everything made sense now. Indeed, once the two met and talked, they knew what to do—no need for detailed telegram description.
“Looks like you have quite a few people on hand.” Gu Yansheng judged that this Shen Linshen was highly valued by the organization, with absolutely rich experience.
“Not many, just responsible for setting up and establishing transportation routes. The transportation stations have their own missions; we don’t meet them, they don’t know who we are—all relies on pre-arranged signal contacts. How much cotton yarn do you have on hand now? I’ll find a way to help you transport it out as soon as possible.”
“1000 bales. How many can you transport?”
“How many? 1000 bales?” Shen Linshen’s eyes widened, clearly shocked: “You collected this much cotton yarn without issue?”
Shen Linshen himself was in this line; he knew all too well about the cotton yarn control order.
“No issue on my side, rest assured. It’s already in a safe warehouse; the quantity is this much—just see how much you can transport.”
Shen Linshen frowned, paused to digest this information.
“Now I understand why for a normal transfer mission, the organization insisted we meet. This quantity of cotton yarn can’t be transported out of the city quietly with just my side’s strength.
And if there’s any mishap, if the Japanese investigate, not only will we lose the cotton yarn, the transportation stations might be counter-tracked, with unimaginable consequences.”
“Based on your intel, assess how many bales you think can be transported out?”
“Actually, it’s not a quantity problem; it’s frequency.
Our transport route uses sampan boats, which don’t have large capacity.
The route is from Shanghai via Suzhou River into Wu Song River, through Kunshan and Suzhou into Taihu Lake.
Once in the Taihu Lake area, the New Fourth Army’s Taihu Lake guerrilla team can take over this shipment to the Maoshan base in southern Jiangsu.
Once at Maoshan, that segment is uncertain; based on current battle situation, the latest route is via Guangde and Ningguo into Yunling in southern Anhui.
And here is also the endpoint of the routes we’re Shanghai people responsible for: New Fourth Army Headquarters.
The next segments are not under our control.
But even for these routes, we need suitable timing to skim past the Japanese and send the goods out.
For example, the Suzhou River segment: Japanese Army patrol boats don’t stop for a moment during the day; only from one to five a.m. are patrols relatively lax. Sometimes those Japanese soldiers love sleeping and drinking and don’t patrol at all.
So the time window we can sneak transport is only that range, and at that time it’s dark, which does help sampans hide in the reeds.
But the darkness brings the problem that we can only use sampan boats, not larger capacity motorized barges—those are bigger in size, louder, too easy to hear at night.
And a sampan’s current capacity can’t exceed two tons, which is the weight of 11 standard bales of cotton yarn, or else the draft is too deep and accidents are likely.
Your 1000 bales would require 90 trips.
Just this frequency—avoiding Japanese patrol boats every time is already impossible.
And to reduce frequency, we’d need more people: three or four boats transporting together. If nothing goes wrong, fine; if caught once, the entire transportation station is done for.
So this quantity can’t be transported out relying on us here, or we drag the timeline longer, transport slowly and safely, but then winter would end.”
