Chapter 1574 - First Clues
Liu Fuqing rarely wore a uniform to work. In his words: "I'm getting old, and tight clothes make me uncomfortable." Fortunately, as an investigator, there were no strict attire requirements except for special occasions. After returning to Lingao, he wore a semifaded blue cloth straight gown every day. Since he wore a "Xiaoyao scarf" on his head, his lack of a bun wasn't noticeable.
Because he always dressed in "old-style" clothes, people within the Political Security Bureau had informed on him more than once, claiming he "harbored nostalgia for the Ming Dynasty" and slandered the "National Dress"—although the Senate had never officially declared "Australian-style" clothing as the National Dress.
He usually spoke with a smile and walked slowly, carrying himself with the air of a gentle scholar. Those unfamiliar with his background would mostly take him for an old scholar who had failed the imperial examinations or a poor private tutor teaching young children.
Liu Fuqing had looked this way before he defected to the Senate, treating everyone amiably. Bullying others and shouting orders were the tricks of yamen runners and constables—he, a dignified clerk in the Ministry of Justice, only needed to negotiate the cuts in a teahouse and then use his pen back at the ministry to spare a life or send someone to their death.
After arriving in Lingao, he remained the same, but he stopped taking bribes—not that he didn't want to, but he truly didn't dare. The Chiefs didn't need his belly full of "ministry precedents" and were ruthless in punishing people. Fortunately, the Chiefs were far more generous with salaries than the Great Ming, and houses were prioritized for sale to naturalized citizens like him. Liu Fuqing now carried a five-year mortgage—a mark of envy in Lingao. Only the "favorites" among the naturalized citizens or those who had "defected" early had the possibility of carrying this mortgage. Ordinary naturalized citizens had to wait in line honestly.
The Senate had saved his life and recognized his talents. Since accepting the appointment as leader of the Sun Umbrella Special Case Group, Liu Fuqing felt rejuvenated and full of energy every day.
As soon as he took office, he arranged focused surveillance on Li Yongxun, monitoring her movements around the clock and comprehensively investigating her social connections. Judging from the previous situation, Li Yongxun definitely had contact with someone currently in Lingao. As long as this person was found, following the vine to the melon would surely yield clues.
However, contrary to expectations, Li Yongxun seemed to sense something and suddenly cut off all contact. Surveillance on her yielded nothing.
This greatly exceeded Liu Fuqing's expectations. He immediately began a carpet investigation of everyone Li Yongxun had contacted and every place she had visited during the previous period, hoping to uncover new clues.
So far, nothing new had emerged. Liu Fuqing began to worry. How could he explain to the Chiefs that such a "major case," personally assigned by a Chief from headquarters, had fallen into his hands without producing a single lead?
If he directly interrogated her, she would likely confess—but then what was the use of him? Didn't the Chiefs want to "cast a long line to catch a big fish"?
After smoking a pack of cigarettes in the office and pacing in countless circles, Liu Fuqing returned to his desk and re-examined the materials spread all over the table.
In the center was Li Yongxun's personnel connection map, with many names extending from hers. Lines indicated their relationship with Li Yongxun, and cross-connections between them were noted in small print.
He had ordered his people to investigate the backgrounds of each person one by one. The result: nothing.
Liu Fuqing stared at the personnel map for several minutes, picked up a pencil, and circled heavily the names of the four people closest to Li Yongxun. Then he pulled the bell rope. A subordinate entered in response.
"Put these people on the 24-hour surveillance list."
The first person on the list was impressively Zuo Yami.
In the same building, while Liu Fuqing frowned over the lack of progress on the Li Yongxun case, Investigator Yang Cao of the Investigation Division—who had been working continuously for ten hours—opened an official document just delivered by messenger from the division.
Such documents were generally forwarded only after the informant network under the Surveillance Division discovered suspicious clues worth digging into.
As the "Capital" of the Senate, Lingao's internal control was particularly strict. Not only were informants everywhere, but every district also had a reconnaissance network attached to the Political Security Bureau, ready to discover and deal with "suspicious situations" reported by informants at any time.
More than ninety percent of the clues were processed or filtered at the reconnaissance network level. Those that reached the Bureau's Investigation Division were "major clues" considered by the reconnaissance network or "major cases" they couldn't handle themselves.
The document was a report forwarded from the Qiongan Inn surveillance point. Like all inns, Qiongan Inn was a key monitoring target of the Security Bureau because it was a place where outsiders rested. Not only was the guest register checked every day, but special surveillance reports also had to be filled out. The instructor of the reconnaissance network went to inspect the work daily.
Starting more than ten days ago, members of the Ten-Man Group at Qiongan Inn had reported to the instructor that a newly arrived large family was relatively suspicious and might contain many martial arts figures.
For a large family traveling long distances, it was necessary to be accompanied by martial artists—either bodyguards hired at great expense from a security bureau, or martial arts teachers kept by the family. This was nothing new to the surveillance point.
But this time, personnel at the surveillance point discovered some abnormal traces.
First, this large family surnamed Zhuo had brought too many maids. According to their guest registration, the Zhuo family came from Huguang. It was a long journey of thousands of li from Huguang to here. Yet they had brought seven or eight maids.
Ancient travel was difficult, and daily life for women was very inconvenient, so in principle, women tried not to travel far. Even if a mistress or an old lady from a large family went out, she would bring at most one or two capable maids to take care of her daily life—she wouldn't bring many. If a man went out, even if he was from a wealthy family, he would rarely bring women to serve him. That was why there was the saying about page boys being multi-talented and also serving as maid-concubines at night.
Although the Zhuo family had an old lady in the party, for just one old lady and one young master to bring so many maids on the road was decidedly strange.
Then the people at the surveillance point discovered a second oddity: Although this large family usually conversed in Mandarin, the accents of the maids, servants, and masters were all different.
While servants could come from all corners of the country, their accents would tend to converge after living together for a long time. The most critical thing was that the old lady's Mandarin accent was completely different from the young master's accent!
As the suspicious points accumulated, the instructor invited Zhou Shizhai—a former bodyguard of the Qiwei Security Bureau and now a consultant with the National Police—through General Affairs Section 9 of the National Police.
Hearing that martial arts figures were involved, Zhou Shizhai didn't rashly show his face. He only walked around the courtyard, watched the people coming in and out from outside, and questioned the waiter for an hour. When he came back, he told the instructor explicitly: This is not a family!
Everyone in the courtyard knew martial arts, and their skills were good. The so-called "Young Master" had particularly high martial arts skills.
"So they're a gang of ocean bandits?" the instructor asked Zhou Shizhai.
Zhou Shizhai shook his head. "No. Ocean bandits don't operate like this. Having spent so much capital, they must have other plans."
The instructor immediately remembered the Umbrella Case solved not long ago, which had also involved martial arts people.
So the case was transferred to the Investigation Division. Because it involved people from the Jianghu, and Yang Cao came from a Jianghu opera troupe background—making her half of the same kind—it was assigned to her.
Political Security Level I Commander Yang Cao was reading the forwarded file intently in her office. She was exhausted. It was already dawn, and she couldn't get off work yet—at least not until she finished reading the case file. When she reached for a Gaoshanling cigarette, she noticed that the ashtray was full, so she rang the electric bell on the table. A trainee assistant walked into the office. Yang Cao didn't speak to him but pointed at the ashtray. The trainee assistant stood at attention and nodded, changed it for a new one, and went out, closing the door.
No talking, no joking. This was the impression Political Security Level I Commander Yang Cao gave to everyone. She was a student of the first Political Security Training Class. As everyone knew, this class had its entrance selection personally hosted by Director Zhao, and Director Wu personally served as the head teacher. The graduates who came out had all taken up leadership positions, and some had made extraordinary achievements on the political security front.
Yang Cao was the outstanding one in this class. Although she wasn't the best in business studies, she was a fanatic with the zeal and ruthlessness of a martyr.
She came from a humble background. In her teenage years, she had been ravaged and physically and mentally destroyed. She was someone who had rolled through the eighteen levels of hell. It was the Senate that saved her life—and more importantly, gave her dignity and the power of revenge.
Yang Cao didn't care what the Senate's purpose was or what it wanted to do in the future. She hated the Great Ming, and she hated everyone in the Great Ming whose status was higher than hers—a semi-prostitute actress. Within the Bureau, Political Security Level I Commander Yang Cao had a reputation as a fanatic. Destruction and revenge were the things she cared about most. As a wholehearted supporter of the Senate, Yang Cao's ideology was simple and firm, never wavering—not at all. She devoted herself wholeheartedly to the pursuit of rebels. She hated them, hated their ingratitude, hated them for opposing the Senate—even if they just thought about it or talked about it. She was cold and passionate, just like when she'd sung opera and gotten "in the zone," feeling hearty delight during pursuit and torture.
Yang Cao would soon be thirty years old. Someone had introduced her to a naturalized cadre—it was said he expressed that he didn't care about Yang Cao's past. Yang Cao rejected the marriage without hesitation. She said: "The Senate is my master, and my life continues only to kill rebels!"
(End of Chapter)