Spy war in the Republic of China, peak undercover

The night was as dark as ink, thickly smeared over Qingshan Town. Only a few sparse lights struggled outside the puppet police station and the Japanese military police station, like the eyes of dying beasts. Most of the town was shrouded in silence, not even the barking of dogs could be heard. A suffocating, oppressive fear hung in the air.

Lu Yang, Lao Hei, and Monkey huddled in the corner of an abandoned rice warehouse. Once teeming with grain, now only scattered husks, thick dust, and the rustling of rats remained. A musty, damp smell filled their nostrils, but compared to the dangers of being exposed, this place was a rare respite.

"Ahem..." Monkey suppressed a cough. The wound on his arm had been torn again during his escape. Although it was tied tightly with a bandage, his face was frighteningly pale, and his forehead was covered in cold sweat. Lao Hei's leg was also seriously injured, and he walked with a limp. He was now leaning cautiously against the only broken window, observing the movement outside through the gap.

Lu Yang's condition was slightly better, but the bruises in his ribs and the gunshot wounds in his legs still ached. He took off his disgusting Japanese military uniform and carefully examined his "Qinglong" pistol. The cold metal texture made him feel a little relieved. He knew that their current situation was extremely dangerous. Although they had temporarily sneaked into the town with disguise and their Osaka accent,[^5] it was only a temporary solution. This "skin" could be exposed at any time, and if they were exposed, they would be trapped in this town under the tight control of the Japanese army.

"We can't delay treating the monkey's injury any longer," Lao Hei said in a low voice, turning around. "If we don't treat it, it will become inflamed and infected. We need medicine, or at least clean bandages and disinfectants."

Lu Yang nodded. This was his biggest concern. He could handle his own injuries, but not Monkey. "Medicine... the pharmacy in town is definitely controlled by the Japanese. Going there to buy medicine is like committing suicide." He pondered. "We also need food and water. More importantly, we need to find out the Japanese troop deployment in town and... whether there's any way to contact our underground communication station in this area."

Their original mission was to scout and destroy supply lines, and their knowledge of Qingshan Town's interior was limited. Now, having stumbled upon this place, they were completely in the dark.

"Brother Lu, do you think... can we find our people?" Monkey asked weakly, with a hint of expectation in his eyes.

"It's hard to say." Lu Yang said honestly, "Qingshan Town is an important stronghold of the Japanese army in this mountainous area, and the control is very strict. Our underground workers are operating here at great risk, and their contacts must be very covert. We can't act rashly, we must first gain a firm foothold."

He stood up, endured the pain, walked to the window, and looked out side by side with Lao Hei. In the night, the figures of puppet soldiers patrolling the streets in the distance could be vaguely seen, and occasionally the sound of Japanese motorcycles "thump thump" passed by.

"Lao Hei, you stay here and take care of the monkeys. Stay alert," Lu Yang decided. "I'll go out and investigate. We must find a safe place to stay and a way to get medicine before daybreak."

"Brother Lu, it's too dangerous! You're alone..." Lao Hei immediately objected.

"Don't worry," Lu Yang patted his shoulder. "I'm more familiar with surviving in this kind of environment than you are. A group of people makes a bigger target, and I can be more agile on my own." He paused, his eyes sharpening. "Remember, if I don't return on time, or if there's any unusual movement outside, you must immediately find a way to evacuate through the waterway behind the rice warehouse. Don't wait for me."

Lao Hei wanted to say something, but seeing Lu Yang's determined eyes, he could only nod heavily: "...Brother Lu, you must be careful!"

Lu Yang put on his Japanese military uniform again, put on his hat, and smeared his face with mud to make it even dirtier, covering up his originally handsome features. He looked at himself in the puddle, confirming that he looked like an ordinary soldier, exhausted and a little slovenly. Then he took a deep breath, pushed open the creaking back door, and disappeared into the night.

After leaving Micang, Lu Yang did not immediately head for the main street. Instead, he moved silently, like a civet cat, along the shadows of houses and through the cracks in the walls. [^4] He was unfamiliar with the layout of Qingshan Town and could only rely on his basic sense of direction and his understanding of the common layout patterns of Japanese strongholds.

He needed to find a place where information converged, a place where he could obtain medicine, food, or even intelligence. Such places were usually not glamorous shops, but those dirty corners where all kinds of people lived together - such as opium dens, casinos, or some special teahouses and taverns.

After passing through several narrow, fetid alleys, Lu Yang noticed a two-story building ahead with a sign reading "Tongfu Teahouse." Strangely, even during curfew, a dim light still shone through the teahouse's second-floor windows. He could faintly hear the murmur of voices and the clatter of mahjong tiles. This was highly unusual in the heavily guarded Qingshan Town.

Lu Yang didn't approach immediately, but instead hid behind a pile of debris on the corner and observed carefully. He saw no obvious guards at the teahouse entrance, only a sleepy waiter in a long gown who occasionally came out to pour a basin of water. But Lu Yang keenly noticed that in a dark corner across from the teahouse, there seemed to be a figure lurking, as if on guard.

There's weirdness here.

Lu Yang decided to take a chance and test it. He straightened his uniform, deliberately slowed down his pace, and staggered towards the teahouse, feeling a bit tipsy and impatient. He hummed an unknown Japanese tune in his half-baked Osaka accent, looking like he had just come out of a bar. [^5]

"Hey! Open the door! Open the door!" He walked to the door of the teahouse and banged on the wooden door with a savage tone, "Damn it, do you have any more wine? Bring me... uh... bring me some wine!"

The clerk was startled and quickly opened the door. Seeing a drunken "Imperial Army", he immediately put on a fawning smile: "Hey, Madam, why are you here at this hour? Our shop... our shop is closed at night."

Lu Yang pushed him away and staggered inside: "Stop talking nonsense! I...we just won a victory, let's celebrate! Bring me all the good wine and food!" He was deliberately vague, while quickly glancing inside the teahouse out of the corner of his eye.

The first floor was deserted, save for a few tables and chairs. The real "business" was clearly upstairs. Someone seemed to be moving at the stairs, but didn't come down to stop him.

"Madam, this... this is really inconvenient..." The waiter looked embarrassed and tried to stop him.

Lu Yang's eyes widened, and he slapped him across the face. "Baka! Get out of here!" He imitated the arrogant Japanese soldiers he'd seen, while quickly assessing the risks. He could sense at least two obscure gazes casting down from the top of the stairs, scrutinizing and wary.

He pretended not to see anything and walked upstairs casually. Just after he stepped onto the stairs, a thin middle-aged man in a black silk shirt appeared at the entrance and stopped him. The man's face was expressionless, but his eyes were as sharp as a hawk.

"Your Excellency," the man said, speaking fairly standard Japanese in a calm tone that left no room for doubt. "The second floor of our shop is a private place, not open to outsiders. If you would like a drink, I can bring it to your house."

Lu Yang stopped and squinted his eyes, studying the man. He was unarmed, but his posture was steady, his temples slightly bulging, clearly a martial artist. Furthermore, he was so unyielding in the face of a "Japanese soldier," clearly no ordinary teahouse owner.

"Oh?" Lu Yang continued to speak slowly in an Osaka accent, "Private place? How private is it? Even the 'Imperial Army' can't enter? Let me tell you, we just fought a big battle over at Shitou Village, and many people died! Now I want to find a place to relax, and you dare to stop me?" He deliberately raised his voice, pronouncing the three words "Shitou Village" clearly, while secretly observing the other party's reaction.

Sure enough, upon hearing the words "Shitou Village," the black-shirted man's pupils shrank slightly. Although he quickly concealed it, this subtle change did not escape Lu Yang's eyes.

"So you're a brave warrior who just returned from the front lines. My apologies." The black-shirted man forced a smile, but his eyes remained icy. "We have distinguished guests on the second floor, so I can't disturb them. If you don't mind, please take a seat downstairs. I'll immediately order the best food and wine, and all expenses will be on my account."

"Distinguished guest?" Lu Yang sneered and took a step forward. "What distinguished guest? More 'distinguished' than us warriors who shed blood and risked our lives for the 'Greater East Asia Holy War'? Who is this important figure? Let Sergeant Nakamura see him!" He continued to impersonate the fabricated identity.

The black-shirted man's face darkened and his tone became tough: "Madam, please respect yourself. There are some things you should not inquire about." He turned slightly to the side, revealing two burly men standing in the shadow of the stairs behind them, with bulges on their waists, obviously hiding weapons.

The air instantly grew tense. Lu Yang knew he might have touched a sensitive spot. This teahouse was no ordinary den of debauchery; it was likely a secret base, perhaps even... a liaison station for Japanese and puppet spies?

Just then, a slightly hoarse Japanese voice, with a distinctly superior tone, came from upstairs: "Kuroki-san, let him come up. Judging from his accent, he sounds like a fellow countryman from Kansai. Haha, I haven't heard such an authentic accent in a long time."

The man in black showed a hint of surprise when he heard this, and then he respectfully responded to the upstairs: "Hello!" Then he stepped aside to make way and made a "please" gesture to Lu Yang, but the vigilance in his eyes did not diminish at all.

Lu Yang's mind raced. Who was that person upstairs? He sounded high-ranking, and he had an Osaka accent. Was this a trap, or an unexpected opportunity?

He didn't hesitate for a moment; retreating would only arouse suspicion. He adjusted his hat, put on his drunken haughty expression again, and strode up the stairs.

The second floor was much more elegant than the ground floor, carpeted and covered in tacky Japanese ukiyoe paintings. The air was filled with the faint scent of opium and cosmetics. Two people sat at a table by the window.

A young woman, dressed in a gorgeous kimono and heavily made-up, carefully lit a cigarette for a middle-aged man in a dark suit and gold-rimmed glasses. The man, perhaps in his forties, had a refined face but penetrating eyes, revealing the prudence of an intellectual and a subtle hint of sinister intent. He wasn't wearing a military uniform, but his every gesture carried the air of someone who had long held a superior position. It was clearly him who had spoken.

Seeing Lu Yang coming up, the man put down his pipe, smiled and nodded, and said in pure Japanese: "Your Excellency, Sergeant, please take a seat. I'm sure you must be tired for visiting me so late at night."

Lu Yang didn't sit down immediately, but scanned the room warily. Besides the man and woman, standing in the corner was a tall, sharp-eyed bodyguard in casual clothes. Together with Hei Mu and the two burly men downstairs, there were at least four of them.

"Who are you?" Lu Yang asked gruffly in his Osaka accent, his mind racing through possible identities. The Japanese commander of Qingshan Town was a colonel; he'd seen his photo, but it wasn't the man before him. The pseudo-county magistrate was a fat man, but that wasn't him either. Could he be... a member of the secret service?

The man didn't seem to mind Lu Yang's rudeness. Instead, he looked at him with interest: "My name is Sato Kenya, just an insignificant consultant. But Sergeant, judging from your accent, you are from Osaka? Which unit are you from? Did you just come back from Shitou Village?" His series of questions seemed casual, but in fact they were tests.

Lu Yang's heart skipped a beat. Sato? An advisor? This reminded him of some scraps of intelligence he'd gathered from the base area. It mentioned that the Japanese General Staff had dispatched "special advisors" to strategic locations across North China to coordinate intelligence and "security rectification." Could this man be one of them? If so, he was definitely a big fish!

"Nakamura Yu, from the XX Infantry Regiment." Lu Yang reported the identity he had fabricated before and said vaguely, "The fighting over at Shitou Village... was terrible... Our team was broken up, and I escaped with two wounded soldiers. I wanted to come to Qingshan Town to rest up." As he spoke, he rubbed his temples as if he was drunk, trying to hide the thought in his eyes.

"Oh? I've heard a little about the battle at Shitouzhai." Sato Kenye picked up his teacup and blew gently. "I heard you were ambushed by the ** (he didn't say it explicitly, but it was obviously referring to the anti-Japanese armed forces) over there, and suffered heavy losses. However, the main force should be able to wipe out the remaining enemies quickly. Nakamura-kun's courage in breaking through with the wounded is commendable."

Lu Yang noticed that Sato's choice of words was very cautious, and he seemed to be fully aware of the situation in Shitou Village, which further confirmed his suspicions. This person was likely one of the Japanese intelligence leaders in Qingshan Town and even the wider area, a spy chief hidden behind the scenes!

A bold idea instantly formed in Lu Yang's mind: If he could capture this Sato Kenya, obtain the intelligence he holds, or even... replace him and use his identity to infiltrate the Japanese General Staff...

This idea is too crazy and the risks are enormous, but the benefits are also immeasurable! This may be their only chance to turn the tide in their current predicament, or even achieve a stunning reversal!

Lu Yang suppressed the excitement in his heart, his face still showing drunkenness and fatigue: "That's how war is... death is common. Let's not talk about this anymore. Mr. Sato, do you have any good wine? My two brothers are waiting for me to bring some wine back!" He tried to change the subject, while thinking about how to capture Sato on the enemy's territory without anyone noticing.

Sato Kenya smiled and winked at Kuroki beside him, "Kuroki-san, go prepare some good wine and food and send them to Sergeant Nakamura and his comrades. Also, prepare some clean medicine and bandages, the wounded need care."

"Hai!" Kuroki responded respectfully and turned to go downstairs.

Lu Yang's heart skipped a beat. Was the other party offering the medicine a gesture of goodwill? Or a test? He didn't dare to take it lightly, but he still showed gratitude on the surface: "Oh! Thank you so much, Mr. Sato! You are such a kind person!"

"Haha, it's nothing." Sato Kenye picked up his pipe again, took a deep drag, and exhaled wisps of smoke. His eyes became somewhat meaningful behind the smoke. "Nakamura-kun, meeting is fate. Since you're here, why don't you stay a while and chat with me? I'm very interested in the battle situation on the front line."

Lu Yang knew that the real battle had just begun. In the following conversation, he had to both extract information and hide himself, while also looking for an opportunity to subdue Sato.

He pulled up a chair, sat down carelessly, picked up the wine jug on the table and poured himself a glass: "Okay! As long as there's wine, we can talk about anything!"

The night in Qingshan Town was still long. And on the second floor of this small teahouse, a silent, yet even more dangerous battle had quietly begun.