Chapter 1397 - The True Enemy

After seeing off Liu Mengqian's personal secretary—who had come to discuss the aftermath of recent events—Zhao Yingong stretched languidly and strolled out of the flower hall. Several guards fell in behind him without a moment's hesitation; in recent days, security measures for both the manor and his own person had been elevated to their highest level.

Though menacing undercurrents had surged throughout this affair, no great waves had ultimately risen from them. Apart from a few unfortunate souls who had perished at the manor gates, everything else had passed tolerably well. The only lingering irritation was Zhang Guangtian, that "Obstinate Prime Minister," who had repeatedly demanded the authorities "thoroughly investigate the sorcery of Phoenix Mountain Manor." Fortunately, the Catholic-sympathizing gentry had long regarded him as a thorn in their side. Seizing upon this opportunity to maneuver in the shadows, they managed to pin on him a charge of "inciting public disturbance," then had Hangzhou Prefecture issue an official document ordering him "returned to his native place and placed under strict supervision." Thus they had finally managed to send him packing.

The only matter that gave Liu Mengqian a headache was a cache of gunpowder and weapons discovered during the search of a residence in the city. This was truly alarming—moreover, several people had died inside under unclear circumstances. Just as he was fretting over how to handle the matter, hints arrived from all quarters: downplay the major issues and let the minor ones disappear entirely. He was only too happy not to stir up trouble, and promptly closed the case as a gang fight among bandits who had killed each other.

Zhao Yingong returned to his inner study but did not enter. Instead, he turned to his guards and said, "Take me to the Office of Sticky Poles."

The Office of Sticky Poles was located in a courtyard deep within the manor. On ordinary days, aside from Zhao Yingong himself and Office personnel, no one else could enter without his written order. It was an exceedingly mysterious place within the manor—in fact, very few people even knew such an institution existed.

Opening the courtyard gate, he found walls towering high within, blocking out the scorching sun. A chill pervaded the air.

"Take me to see Xihua."

Office personnel led him to a room and unlocked the iron bolt on the door. Inside, darkness swallowed everything; for a moment he could see nothing at all. Only after his eyes adjusted did he notice that the room did have windows—but they were both high and narrow.

The room was empty save for a table and two chairs. Xihua sat in the chair at the center of the room. Her hair was somewhat disheveled, her complexion haggard and sallow, as if she hadn't slept all night.

Zhao Yingong sighed inwardly and walked up to her.

"Master," Xihua called out softly.

"You should address me as 'Chief.'" He took a seat in the chair opposite her.

"Master," she repeated, just as softly.

Zhao Yingong studied the young woman before him. Since her return to the manor, she had already been here for over twenty-four hours. The Office must have interrogated her throughout the night. Although they hadn't resorted to physical torture, this relay-tactic of exhaustive interrogation was enough to break anyone's spirit.

He had already reviewed the Office's interrogation conclusions: Xihua's return was genuine, and the intelligence she had provided had played a crucial role in foiling this conspiracy.

But she had become an unreliable person.

Zhao Yingong knew that Xihua's fate was no longer in his hands; it would be decided by the Political Security General Administration in Lingao. As for what awaited her there, he could not predict, nor could he inquire.

"Am I to be sentenced now, Master?" Xihua asked in a low voice.

Zhao Yingong opened his mouth, but for a moment found himself at a loss for words. After a long pause, he finally spoke:

"I believe you are innocent. You rendered great service in keeping the Hangzhou Station safe this time." He paused. "However, you cannot remain in Hangzhou any longer."

"Please don't torment me any further—I cannot bear it..." Xihua closed her eyes, her face showing an expression of profound sorrow. "Send me to join my parents."

"You have rendered great service to the Hangzhou Station. Don't let your imagination run wild." Zhao Yingong lamented inwardly—nothing was more heartbreaking than a spirit already dead. She had become a hollow shell. "Tomorrow morning, you will be put on a ship bound for Lingao. We will look after you for the rest of your life."

When Zhao Yingong emerged from the room, Zhao Tong was already waiting in the courtyard.

"Let her bathe, change her clothes, and get a good night's sleep," Zhao Yingong instructed. "Have someone watch her—don't let her take her own life!"

"Yes, sir."

Zhao Yingong returned to his office, where a report concerning the Xihua incident had already been delivered to his desk. The "Disposition" column was blank. This was left for the highest chief of the Hangzhou Station to fill in.

Regarding Xihua's case, he had considered whether to cover it up. After all, Xihua had originally been assigned counterintelligence duties, but her defection was no longer a secret within the Office of Sticky Poles—after her defection, the Office had mobilized all its forces to search for her.

Even if Qian Shuixie and the others didn't know the inside story, the Office would likely report directly to the Political Security General Administration anyway. The Administration had secret vertical-line members in the security departments of all local stations; even if he could hide things from the Elders, he couldn't hide them from the Political Security General Administration.

He read through the report once more. It had been drafted by the Office of Sticky Poles, following his instructions: "Write it truthfully; neither cover up nor embellish." That was what he'd said, but he subconsciously kept trying to make the report look better, to reduce Xihua's culpability somewhat. He personally revised a few words and phrases, only making a clean copy when he truly felt there was nothing more to amend.

He picked up his quill pen, dipped it in ink, and wrote: "In the name of the Council of Elders and the People, I approve her transfer to the Political Security General Administration for processing." Then he signed his name.

The document was placed in a folder marked "TOP SECRET" and would be packed into a special document case along with Xihua's dossier and files, to be sent across the sea to Lingao together with her person. The "Bear of Lingao" would decide her ultimate fate.

However, his troubles were far from over. Since this matter couldn't be hidden from the Political Security General Administration, it naturally couldn't be hidden from the Executive Committee and the Council of Elders either. The crisis at the Hangzhou Station would inevitably become a sharp topic at Council meetings. The mere thought of how his unfortunate comrades in Guangzhou, Jeju, Shandong, and Taiwan had been subjected to verbal attacks and written denunciations at the Council made him shiver.

Lighting an Elder-exclusive cigar, he sank into deep thought.

Among his allies in the Council, apart from Si Kaide—who was himself constantly under fire—there was hardly anyone else of real influence. If a hearing were to be convened, the situation he had painstakingly built in Hangzhou would crumble.

At the thought of all the enterprises he had already established, a surge of intense pride welled up in his heart. He must stop those armchair critics who sat pontificating in the Council at all costs. As Zhao Yingong pictured their faces, he grew so furious that he nearly bent the cigar in his hand.

Who could be a potential ally? He thought anxiously, mentally sifting through all the Elders he knew.

Just as he was lost in these thoughts, Zhao Tong entered.

"What is it?" He became alert. Zhao Tong was not an obtuse person; he wouldn't barge in while his master was thinking unless it was something urgent.

"The men who went to search Nanxiawa have returned—empty-handed!" Zhao Tong reported.

After the incident had been quelled, Zhao Yingong had synthesized intelligence from all sources and realized that this Hao Yuan was no ordinary person. What Hao Yuan had said to Xihua in particular had shocked him—it was too modern. Could Hao Yuan be a solo transmigrator?

If so, this was truly terrifying, especially given his demonstrated hostility toward the Council of Elders. Zhao Yingong quickly realized this was a "big fish." He therefore ordered the Office of Sticky Poles to search for Hao Yuan's whereabouts with all their strength; they were to kill or capture him no matter what.

The Office was secretly searching both inside and outside the city, and had even mobilized government resources to enter Nanxiawa for a search, but they found nothing anywhere. The cunning enemy seemed to have sunk to the bottom without a trace. The residents of Nanxiawa insisted that Hao Yuan's whereabouts were unknown.

"Have you apprehended Jia Le and her parents?"

"That family has also disappeared without a trace. Our men lay in ambush by West Lake, but we failed to catch Xihua's father either. They all seem to have smelled something and gone into hiding."

"Quick on their feet!" Zhao Yingong gritted his teeth, increasingly convinced that Hao Yuan was highly suspicious. It suddenly occurred to him that if Hao Yuan really was a solo transmigrator, then his importance would be nothing short of Priority Number One.

Zhao Yingong was well aware of the Elders' fear of other transmigrators. If he could stir up the Elders' attention to this matter, then his own little troubles in Hangzhou would amount to nothing at all.

"Has the composite sketch of Hao Yuan been completed?"

"It's already done. We've cross-verified it—there's no mistake."

Based on Xihua's testimony, the Office had already produced a first sketch. Because Hao Yuan had once visited the manor in the guise of "Shopkeeper Niu" of the Maoxing Firm, several people had seen him, so Zhao Tong had specifically arranged for a cross-identification of the drawing. Everyone had recognized him as "Shopkeeper Niu."

"Send it to the Wanbi Bookshop for plate-making. Print a thousand copies first, and mobilize all our forces in Hangzhou and the surrounding prefectures and counties to search! Anyone providing useful information will be rewarded with ten taels! Anyone who kills or captures him alive will be rewarded with one hundred taels."

"Yes, I'll arrange it immediately."

"As for the government, I will make contact and pin the charge of 'notorious bandit' on Hao Yuan—in a few days, Hangzhou Prefecture will probably issue an arrest warrant. However, the people in the yamen are unreliable; we still have to put in the effort ourselves. But with the arrest warrant, things will be easier."

"Understood. With the warrant, we can pose as public officers and arrest and search anyone at will."

"We have Jia Le's photograph. Give instructions to try to apprehend Jia Le first, or at least capture her family members!" Zhao Yingong said coldly. "Hao Yuan won't be far from Jia Le."

"Understood."

"How goes the examination of those corpses?"

"Word has come from the coroner at the yamen: people have been coming to claim the bodies throughout today. All identities have been confirmed. However, none of them are of any value." Zhao Tong produced a report. Zhao Yingong glanced through it cursorily. These unfortunate souls who had been killed included vagrants and shop clerks—apparently members of a "strike gang" or temporary hires. Some were sericulturists from the nearby suburbs. He felt somewhat disappointed; these were all expendable pawns on the periphery, clearly unlikely to have had contact with anyone important.

"There are a few who might be of some value." Zhao Tong handed over another report.