Spy game? Stop guessing, I really am an undercover agent!

Chapter 106 Catching mice
Dingxiangji Restaurant, Zhabei District, Shanghai.

As dusk settled, leaden-gray clouds weighed heavily on the bare branches of the sycamore trees.

Deep in the alley, the greasy cotton curtain of "Dingxiangji Restaurant" swayed in the breeze, carrying the strong aroma of pork bone broth simmering overnight, mixed with pork cracklings and cheap soy sauce.

The ground floor of the restaurant was cramped and narrow, with a few greasy square tables and benches squeezed together. Laborers and newsboys hunched over, slurping noodles with their heads down. The air was filled with a hazy mist of heat and the sounds of food being swallowed...

The sound of footsteps grew louder as a young figure lifted the cotton curtain and gave the shopkeeper a warm smile.

The shopkeeper gently tapped his fingers on the abacus, making a few clicks.

The voice was neither too loud nor too soft, yet it was clear enough for the person to understand what he was trying to say, and the environment was safe.

"Shopkeeper, do you remember me from when I was here last time?" the young man greeted him.

The shopkeeper adjusted his glasses and smiled, "I remember, I remember, you were the customer who came to try the braised eel last time."

The young man nodded. "Same as usual today, one plate of braised eel with hot oil, plus two of our signature dishes. I've made plans with friends."

The shopkeeper nodded repeatedly and said, "No problem, no problem, let's go upstairs."

As he spoke, the shopkeeper called over the busy waiter and asked him to lead the young man upstairs.

Before long, the curtain was lifted again, and a man wearing a patched coarse cloth jacket and a straw rope around his waist walked in with his shoulders hunched.

He wore a tattered felt hat on his head, the brim pulled low, covering most of his face, revealing only his rough chin and chapped lips.

Like many rickshaw pullers in Shanghai, he had a handkerchief draped over his shoulder, the original color of which was indistinguishable—a standard accessory for rickshaw pullers.

"Shopkeeper, have you seen a gentleman? He's about this tall, a bit overweight, and wearing glasses." The man gestured to indicate the man's appearance, his voice hoarse and rough, with a deliberately imitated northern Jiangsu accent.

"Oh. The person you mentioned seems to have just arrived; they're on the second floor."

The shopkeeper waved his hand and said, "Pizi, take the guests upstairs."

"Thank you, boss." The man gave a fawning smile, typical of people from the lower class. He casually took off his tattered felt hat, dusted off the dust on his shoulders, revealing a weathered, unshaven face with cloudy eyes, as if life had worn away all their luster.

"Please follow me, sir," the waiter said to the man, then turned and led him upstairs.

On the second floor, by the window, the young man was reading a newspaper. The waiter brought him to him, and the young man met his eyes. With just a simple exchange of glances, they had already confirmed each other's identities.

"Seventh Uncle, it's been years since I last saw you, you've aged quite a bit."

The visitor sighed and said, "Yes, it's not easy to make a living in Shanghai. Unlike you, who can read and do great things."

"Seventh Uncle can only do manual labor, but fortunately, he has earned enough to buy a car over the years, so he doesn't have to be at the mercy of others all the time."

The code was correct, and the young man quickly said, "Waiter, hurry up and serve the dishes, and also heat up a pot of old wine."

"Seventh Uncle, sit down, sit down."

The two sat down together. The newcomer took out a crumpled cigarette box from his pocket, shook out a cheap cigarette and put it in his mouth, then fumbled for a match.

His hands were rough and large, covered with calluses, and he unconsciously scribbled on the table.

This is a secret code used by the organization, meaning "I am the leader of the third group of the Shanghai Action Team, Chai Dao".

Han Zhu lightly swiped her hand across the table twice, giving a brief self-introduction: "I am Han Zhu, a courier."

Seeing the other party's reply, Chai Dao took a puff of his cigarette and said, "Third Fatty, it's been so many years. Why did you suddenly think of coming to Shanghai to find Seventh Uncle?" "I know you came to Shanghai a couple of years ago, but people say we're on different levels now, and I shouldn't contact you."

"So, all these years I've been too embarrassed to come and bother you."

"What's the meaning behind your sudden invitation to dinner today?"

The meaning behind the message from the hatchet is clear: our action team is not on the same line as yours, and in principle, we should not have any lateral contact. Is there something important that you suddenly contacted me about?

Han Zhu picked up the teapot on the table and poured water into the teacup in front of Chai Dao, saying, "Seventh Uncle, you're insulting me."

"No matter how well I do in Shanghai, I'm still your nephew."

"However, I did invite you to dinner today because I have something I'd like to ask you to do."

Chai Dao took a deep drag on his cigarette, stubbed it out, and laughed, "I knew you wouldn't come here unless you had something important to say."

"If there's anything you need Seventh Uncle's help with, just let me know. We're from the same place, and I'll do whatever I can to help you."

Han Zhu took a sip of tea and said, "I heard that Seventh Uncle used to sell rat poison in the countryside. You're quite skilled at catching rats."

“I’m working for Boss Chen now, and there’s been a problem with the warehouse lately.”

"A few days ago, the goods shipped to Nanjing were damaged by rats, and then another batch of goods also had problems."

"The cargo owner compared the damage to the goods and found that they were still damaged by rats."

"Do you have time to help us catch some mice?"

Chai Dao paused for a moment, then pondered, "That's unlikely. There haven't been any rats in your warehouse for a long time. Can you be sure the goods were damaged by rats?"

Han Zhu nodded. "Our boss is certain that the problem with the goods in the warehouse is because of rats."

"This is the address of our warehouse. Is it convenient for you?"

Chai Dao took the note from Han Zhu, quickly glanced at the information on it, and then, without making a sound, placed it in his palm. While drinking tea, he stuffed the note into his mouth and swallowed it.

Chai Dao put down his teacup and sighed, "Oh dear, it's been so many years since I've touched this. But don't worry, Uncle Qi's skills haven't been neglected."

"I'll go back and prepare. Hopefully, I can find the rat's nest and see if there are any baby rats inside."

Han Zhu thanked him repeatedly, saying, "Then I'll have to trouble you, Uncle Qi. As for the fee..."

"We're all on the same side, why talk about money? It's just helping to catch a mouse, it's a small matter."

"Then that's settled. I'll go back and make some preparations. I won't eat." Chai Dao stood up and said, "Tell your boss that since there are rats in the warehouse, we need to be careful with some things so that the rats don't ruin everything."

Before Hanzhu could say anything to stop him, Chai Dao picked up a felt hat from the side, put it on, and quickly left the restaurant.

The two men didn't try to hide their conversation from the guests on the second floor, but everyone simply assumed that it was just a warehouse manager looking for someone to catch the rats in the warehouse.

After all, there were indeed people who specialized in this at that time, selling rat poison, cockroach poison, and other similar products.

Therefore, in everyone's eyes, this man known as Uncle Seven was just an ordinary person who used to sell rat poison in the countryside and later pulled a rickshaw in Shanghai.

No one would have guessed that this was actually a conversation between two secret agents.
(End of this chapter)