【Hidden Fragrance】 Author: Hanbagui

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Author: Hanba Gui
Word Count: 47645

In 1940, old China struggled under the ravages of foreign artillery fire, and various forces engaged in a series of
open and covert struggles on this war-torn land.
The protagonist, Bai Mei, a secret underground member of the Communist Party, is swept up by the tide of history and forced
to choose her own path, participating in a heavy drama unfolding in the Sanjiangkou region. Her covert operations are exposed, party struggles arise,
shadow assassins appear, and a strange love story unfolds… until the terrifying truth is revealed, she finally sees the beginning of the story.
Is this a tragic song of the times, or a tender tale of love?
Smell it carefully, and the hidden fragrance will provide the answer.
(①The locations, characters, and events mentioned in the text are fictional and should not be taken seriously.
②This is a fictional account, not a fabrication. We pay the highest tribute to the revolutionary martyrs who contributed to saving the nation from peril
.)
Main Text
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The hidden fragrance
and bright moon cast sparse shadows, a hidden fragrance seems to indicate someone is coming.
In the late autumn of 1940, the Wang Jingwei regime's Special Service launched a series of
operations . Saburo Kanoshima, then the Japanese consul at the Sanjiangkou consulate, ordered me to supervise
the arrests.
Naturally, I obeyed without question—because I was an outright traitor, a
lackey of the Japanese.
At least, this was an undisputed fact widely acknowledged by public opinion.
I desperately wanted to tell my once close classmates and friends that the "traitor" Bai Mei had secretly
leaked , indirectly thwarting several secret operations to arrest important undercover comrades.
I longed to shout: "Bai Mei is willing to sacrifice himself for the country, to bring about the revival of the Chinese nation and to drive out
the despicable aggressors who have lost all conscience!"
However, it was just a thought.
"To be an undercover agent, one must learn to endure humiliation and hardship." I always kept the teachings of my predecessors in mind; they always gently
wiped away the bitterness and grievances that welled up within me.
One afternoon, I accompanied Qian Manguan, the captain of the Special Service Section, on a mission.
Our target was Teng Yan, the eldest daughter of the prominent local salt merchant Teng. Based on my
understanding , Teng Yan, using a false identity and ostensibly lecturing in major cities of Jiangsu and Zhejiang, had contacted various national salvation organizations,
assisting in over ten large-scale student movements in just a few months. Her influence on the youth was considerable.
Previously, I wasn't very familiar with the Teng family, only knowing that they were highly regarded by the consul at Kanoshima
and provided financial support to Japan, thus thriving in the Sanjiang Estuary area. Now, learning that the Teng family
had been secretly supporting the resistance against Japan, I felt a surge of admiration, but also a hidden worry—if the arrest succeeded,
Teng Yan, being of ordinary health, would surely succumb to torture, and the Teng family's communist connections would eventually become public knowledge, potentially leading to
the family's annihilation.
Could I, on my own, help her in this situation?
As I was silently pondering this, a strange sensation suddenly arose from my lower body. A rough, calloused hand had somehow
lifted the hem of my skirt and was brazenly tickling my inner thigh, causing me to groan softly a few times.
"It tickles! What are you doing..." I suppressed my annoyance and slapped the hand away. Out of the corner of my eye, Qian Manguan's withered,
strange smiling face came into view.
"Miss, you have beautiful skin, but you're a bit stubborn..." He tried to make a suggestive move towards my chest, so I
could only force a stiff smile to protect my chest. "One of us flaunts our figures, and the other runs errands
for a living. We're both dogs of the Japanese, so it's best not to set our prices too high. What do you say?"
Taking advantage of my momentary lapse in attention, he skillfully pinched me through my clothes. An invisible electric current struck
my forehead, and my vision blurred instantly. I trembled, clutching the hem of my clothes, and inappropriate
breaths escaped my lips.
Bystanders cast disdainful glances, but Qian Manguan timely withdrew his arm, shifting his gaze to the outside of the car and pretentiously
saying, "It's a public place, Miss Bai, please don't make a fuss."
Endure...endure...I gently patted my chest, trying to calm myself. Two years, a full two years. My once
proud and chaste spirit had long been shattered by countless nights of revelry and sleepless nights. Men
had gradually solidified in my eyes as machines to please in exchange for information. Compared to the shameful scenes after drunken revelry in the past
, the harassment I was experiencing now felt like a handout from a life of hardship.
Even so, I couldn't help but stare intently at Qian Manguan's thin, dark, and cheekbone-protruding profile, silently cursing
him as a scumbag to vent my anger. In his early years, he was just a security guard watching cars for the Japanese, his impoverished and cold circumstances
a stark contrast to his name, which exuded an air of wealth. Later, he finally got his chance, using the Wang Jingwei puppet regime to climb the social ladder and become
a , running errands for the Japanese, persecuting patriotic youths to secure their rights. If China had fewer
despicable individuals like Qian Manguan, the course of the war might have been very different.
The station had arrived. Looking at the bustling platform, I secretly prayed that Comrade Teng Yan would escape.
The Special Service quickly deployed at each entrance as the train pulled into the station. Avoiding Qian Manguan's notice and
ensuring my identity remained hidden, I skillfully drugged a burly man. Although I wasn't good at gunfights,
I was quite adept at drugging.
Having cleared the way, I leaned over the railing, carefully observing each disembarking passenger. Unfamiliar faces
flashed by like clouds, and I suddenly regretted not having taken the time to find out what Teng Yan looked like beforehand. According to Qian Manguan,
Teng Yan had secretly returned to the city without even informing her biological father, Teng Shi, so naturally, she wouldn't have anyone to meet her at the station. That route
was blocked . How could I identify her before the Special Service and signal Teng Yan to evacuate quickly?
Unexpectedly, Qian Manguan reappeared beside me. "He's like a ghost!" I was about to move away
when a whisper came to my ear: "Look to the left, the woman wearing a scarf who just got off the train. Ask her if she's interested in being
interviewed by the Dongyang Daily. Get her out of the station as soon as possible so we can both finish our work sooner."
"Come on. Captain Qian is blatantly slacking off. Don't let me get accused of condoning negligence, and
I won't be able to explain it to Consul Kanoshima. It's better to leave the work to your subordinates." I
said this, but turned my head and silently watched the target woman's back.
Was that Teng Yan? Although I couldn't be sure, the cultured air she exuded was still particularly strong.
Thick. If it really was her, this would be the perfect opportunity for me to tell her about the ambush, but this played right into Qian Manguan's hands
—he was deliberately revealing this to me, perhaps just a test.
"Having Miss Bai Mei, a favorite of the Consul of Kanoshima, set an example for our Special Service Section to learn from,
that can't be called slacking off, right?" Qian Manguan deliberately flashed a yellow tooth, his face still bearing a
malicious grin.
The choice was right in front of me. There was no room for hesitation.
"If you're not afraid of disappointment, I might as well give it a try." I finally decided to take the plunge, pushing Qian
Manguan aside and strode forward. I only had one chance, so I had to carefully choose my words...
I squeezed into the crowd, shoulder to shoulder with the woman.
"Miss Teng Yan?" I lowered my voice, just enough to barely touch the back of her ear. Seeing that the woman didn't
react, I was about to repeat myself when she slightly raised the brim of her hat, revealing a pair of clear eyes, scrutinizing me closely.
"The Special Service's spies have been planted, haven't they? I noticed them a long time ago." She was unusually calm, her
composure quite elegant. "You came here specifically to rescue me, didn't you? What's the plan?"
Such composure—this was the image of the revolutionary worker I most admired. No wonder Teng Yan was being
targeted ; such meticulous and inspiring patriots were always the enemy of the invaders, who were determined to eliminate them
to prevent future troubles.
"I am a member of the Communist Party underground codenamed Fireworks. The station is currently fraught with danger. Please cooperate with me in putting on a show for the Special
Service, and then proceed to safety immediately." These words, which I had carefully crafted for so long, almost
slipped out .
No. Something was wrong.
My intuition told me things shouldn't be going so smoothly.
I hadn't even introduced myself yet. Even if the person in front of me was Teng Yan, how could I possibly know her purpose? Besides,
who would talk about matters of their own safety with a complete stranger?
Her eyes were unwavering, subtly revealing an expectation that seemed eager for my
answer.
"No, no..." I took a deep breath, trying to make each word as clear as possible, "Perhaps you
have some free time to grant us an educational interview with the Dongyang Daily?"
Teng Yan remained silent, then smiled with relief.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Loud applause came from behind me. A weight lifted from my heart.
A familiar touch crept onto my shoulder; without even looking, I knew it was Qian Manguan's lecherous hand at work. I stomped my heel
hard on his shiny black leather shoe, making him grit his teeth and yell, cursing something as he reached for my
shoe. "I'll scratch your slutty slut to pieces!" he was about to unleash his beastly desires when "Teng Yan" spoke up.
"Tone it down. You're shameless..." Strangely enough, Qian Manguan stood
up straight and respectful after being reprimanded, his usual arrogant and domineering attitude completely gone.
"What... what happened?" I pretended to be confused and looked at
"Teng Yan" with deliberate suspicion.
"Miss Bai Mei, the test you just completed wasn't perfect, but it was barely passable."
"Teng Yan" had now shed her disguise; beneath her simple, loose trench coat was a sharp leather jacket, and a scarf concealed
a bright red wound, clearly indicating she had just been through a fierce battle.
"Gu Qiaochu, Miss Gu," Qian Manguan said matter-of-factly, "
a high-ranking official personally dispatched by Chairman Wang to assist the consulate in overcoming its difficulties. He just told a small lie, please don't take it to heart, Miss Bai."
"Of course I don't care. However, 'overcoming difficulties' refers to...?"
"It seems you are unaware. That's understandable, even Kanoshima Saburo himself has never heard of it, and
I only just learned of it myself. That old fox has indeed hidden his tail very well." I noticed Gu Qiaochu's words—
it was really illogical for this person to call Kanoshima Saburo by his full name—it was probably not just the Wang puppet government that was supporting her in the shadows
.
"According to reliable sources, ***'s high-ranking agent, Mei, is hiding somewhere in the confluence of the three rivers,
eyeing the head of Consul Kanoshima.
Consul Amamiya, who died tragically in the attack on the Okawa Consulate a few months ago, was his first target, and several Chinese compatriots who had rendered meritorious service to the Empire also met their demise. Rumor has it that
he is elusive and unpredictable, a truly troublesome individual. Of course, the Special Service Section is confident enough to guarantee
the consul's safety, but routine checks are still essential..."
Bullshit. I really wanted to curse Qian Manguan's stinking face.
If there were such a legendary figure within the Communist Party, how could I have been completely unaware of him? Perhaps the Wang Jingwei regime couldn't find
any heroic, nameless anti-Japanese heroes, so they deliberately pinned the blame on the Communist Party. Truly, the human heart is treacherous.
"In short, whether it's Miss Bai or Captain Qian, it's best to keep your distance from Saburo Kanoshima for the time being
." Gu Qiaochu's smile was quite innocent, but the thought that such people were often cunning and
not ordinary made me realize that a chilling aura emanated from her unnatural smile.
"I think I understand... However, Miss Gu, you're not here solely for Mei, are you? After all, Mei
is so troublesome; even with you, it wouldn't make a difference."
Gu Qiaochu laughed even harder. "No, no, no, Miss Bai, you've misunderstood. To be precise, I'm
just delivering a message; I won't be participating in any of the Special Operations Department's search operations. Of course,
you can't entirely blame Saburo Kanoshima for his incompetence and poor efficiency, because I'm the best person to carry out this mission."
"It's best not to keep us in suspense." I was getting tired of her tone and attitude. While it was true that Kanoshima was
a vile aggressor, this contempt emanating from her dog collar was truly unsettling.
"Go pry open an old friend's teeth."
She finally managed a pale smile that froze on her face.
"Miss Bai, you and I both know who it is."
Qian Manguan's smile was as arrogant as ever.
Where is Zhen Tengyan now? Amidst the rapid processing of my thoughts, I posed an incredibly
simple question to myself.
A chilling question.
I dared not answer.
On the way back to the consulate, my thoughts remained a jumbled mess.
Tengyan was probably arrested. It made sense; all the information about Tengyan's secret arrival at Sanjiang Estuary today
came from Qian Manguan, and the organization's records only went up to the end of last month when the student movement was suppressed.
I had been led by the nose without even realizing it. Any sunny afternoon a few days ago would have been fine, Teng...
The moment Yan's boots stepped onto the platform, it marked the beginning of her being bound and imprisoned in the secret cell.
And Mei… While I don't believe Qian Manguan's one-sided account, I still need to understand the situation. Directly assassinating a high-ranking
Japanese officer is never a wise move; I believe even the Military Intelligence Bureau wouldn't dare to act rashly. Therefore,
Mei might be a third-party force waiting to intervene…
I should send a telegram to my senior after returning to my residence, and inquire about Mei's situation.
This thought, once it flashed through my mind, immediately filled me with shame. I've been working underground for quite some time now
. I successfully portrayed Bai Mei as a traitor despised by all,
a , yet I haven't achieved much as a stuntwoman, and my breakthroughs in espionage have become increasingly unsatisfactory.
I've been in contact with Kanoshima Saburo for a full six months, and in the end, I haven't even gained his basic trust; instead,
the Wang Jingwei 's people have used the opportunity to test me. So the so-called "supervision work" was nothing but a pretense from Kanoshima
...
How utterly pathetic of me to rely on my senior's help, throwing tantrums at his busy schedule to
gain comfort—how shameless!
Am I no longer suited for this arduous task...?
My heart was wavering as the car entered Kangping Avenue. Pedestrians thronged the street,
all solemnly making way for the official vehicle. Only one person, dressed in tattered clothes and resembling a beggar,
swaggered out from a makeshift awning in a muddy alley and stood firmly in front of the car, something seemingly hidden behind his back.
"You nuisance... get lost!" Qian Manguan waved impatiently, but the beggar remained unmoved.
"Sir, you served the Japanese devils like a slave, slaughtering countless Chinese sons and daughters with your sword. Such a
heroic act of sacrificing one's own family for the greater good is truly worthy of the nation's admiration and worship! I bow down first in respect!"
With that, the beggar lunged at the cart, clutching a piece of broken tile.
"You've gone too far!" A gust of wind seemed to sweep past me as Qian Manguan, cursing, leaped down and
kicked the beggar squarely between the eyebrows. The man's legs buckled instantly, and he collapsed to his knees, his nose twisted
and drooping on his blood-splattered face. Before he could recover and support himself, another powerful stomp followed,
the tile he had just released embedding itself in his side. A heart-wrenching scream echoed in my ears, lingering for a long time.
The surrounding civilians ran and shouted, and in the blink of an eye, the peaceful avenue became chaotic. A few
unusually calm people silently observed the scene unfolding before them, none daring to step forward to offer any advice.
Seeing Qian Manguan, in a fit of rage, reach for the dagger at his waist, I rushed out of the car and stood before
the dying beggar.
His actions were undoubtedly a pointless sacrifice, a complete foolishness in some ways.
But I couldn't bring myself to speak.
The depth of those words was beyond the comprehension of a numb, ignorant person. He might have once been a spirited scholar,
a journalist criticizing current affairs, or simply an ordinary person harboring dreams of national rejuvenation. His current
state of destitution was undoubtedly linked to the atrocities of the invaders.
However, the noble character of seeking justice without fear of death is always more admirable than the cowardice of compromising one's principles.
Despite the risk, I still wanted to protect him.
"It's just some crazy guy spouting nonsense, Captain Qian, why are you so angry?"
"Get out of here! You bitches have such cheap sympathy! If I don't stomp one of his legs today, I
'll take his surname!" I felt a shadow flash across my cheek, followed by a searing pain that
pierced , and hot tears streamed down my face.
Pain…so painful…
Since becoming an underground party member, I've endured most of the hardships and suffering,
bearing it all with my exceptionally strong pride and perseverance. But today, for the passionate speech of this complete stranger
, I received this slap, and I cried like a child, disregarding all pride.
I suddenly understood that the meaning of a revolutionary's existence might not be defined by whether they have made great contributions.
Just as it's great to valiantly defeat the enemy on a battlefield, who can say that quietly engaging in intelligence work is inferior
? The failure to achieve greater success cannot erase every small footprint I've left to this day. I am still a firework of the underground Communist Party, recognized by
the organization and cared for by my predecessors. I
am not merely a spectacle of alluring figures in the world of pleasure, but
a spark that continues to illuminate the night even as it fades into the distance.
Therefore, when the people are filled with the spirit of sacrificing their lives, I will bravely and fearlessly protect these sparks
awaiting the east wind to ignite them.
This, too, is the meaning of my existence.
My previous life of infiltration condensed into a tear, mingling with the ocean of tears welling up on my face. I am at peace with this
.
My infiltration may be coming to an end, but undeniably, it will also begin anew.
I closed my eyes and heard the sound of a bullet being chambered.
When the light shone into my eyes again, I vaguely saw a flower. Nothing else.
It was a flower I had never seen before. Its color was pale, its petals small and endearing.
I seemed to smell a fragrance. It wasn't as fragrant as wildflowers, nor as rich as the potted plants by
my bedside. The flower was so close. I wanted to reach out and pick it, but my right arm seemed out of sync, still half
- asleep.
So I switched to my left hand.
The flower suddenly drifted far away, and in my haste, I stretched out my arm to grab it.
I ended up grabbing a man's part.
Only then did I realize I hadn't opened my eyes. Forcing my sleepy eyes open, I
met .
"I didn't expect, White Eyebrow, you'd be so proactive." It was Kanoshima Saburo's accent. I struggled
to turn my head, but only saw his stubble-covered chin. Why was he the one next to me?
Sensation returned to my feet first. I curled my toes, feeling a warm, soft touch on the soles of my toes. My shoes and socks
are gone … My feet, always sore and tired from being wrapped in high heels and stockings, feel so light and
comfortable now that they're bare. I instinctively spread my toes, letting my bare feet rest for a moment.
Actively… What is Kanoshima saying?
I suddenly feel uneasy. Where am I lying? The feeling beneath me is so comfortable,
it must be a bed… What is that thing I'm clutching tightly in my left hand?
I instantly snap out of it, frantically shaking my hand away.
Kanoshima doesn't seem to care much. When he slips his hand under the covers, I realize my whole body…
My clothes had been stripped off completely. His thick fingers climbed up my arm, slowly tracing the lines of my bones
, and grasped my wrist, which I didn't know where to go.
"You control your strength very well, why are you running away?" His thick lips drew closer and closer, until
they were just . My earlobe was slightly wet, something warm was pulling and tugging at it, and my mind
followed suit. I let him put my hand back down, and then I unconsciously
repeated the movements he manipulated.
What... what is this... everything in front of me is so blurry, but it was so clear just a second ago
... I don't want to do these things, but my body is completely out of my control...
Kanoshima placed his hand below my waist, massaging a bone that wasn't deeply embedded. Even though he was touching a
bone , I felt like he had a firm grip on every nerve in my body. His movements became very fast, sometimes rubbing lightly
, sometimes squeezing, and I couldn't help but moan softly in response. He seemed to appreciate my reaction, pulling me
into his arms around my waist and kissing me deeply, brushing aside the stray hairs on my forehead.
"I was very, very suspicious of you before. But you truly haven't disappointed me." Kanoshima
laid me down, cupping my breasts in his hands and tenderly caressing them. His palms were large and
warm, soothing to the touch. Being kneaded by them was truly...
Suddenly, images from the past two years flashed before my eyes. Unbearable, utterly shameful, humiliating
, all sorts of things.
I wanted to vomit out that filthy soul belonging to Shiro-mei.
"Let go... I'm not comfortable..." I finally mustered my strength, glaring angrily at Kanoshima Saburo's
servile expression.
He didn't seem to have any intention of stopping, his eyes full of expectation as he continued his lewd fingerwork.
"I said I'm not comfortable! Let me go!" Perhaps because I had no strength left to resist, I somehow mustered the courage
to command him.
Surprisingly, he still showed no anger, and unusually, stopped. "I thought you'd be as
willing as before..." His face seemed to hold more confusion and bewilderment.
"No. Never." I realized my tears were getting out of control, and I managed to wipe them a few times before
pitifully covering my eyes. I was such a crybaby today.
"I know you're injured, and you must be feeling bad," Kanoshima awkwardly organized his words. "After all,
your health is the most important thing! Take good care of yourself, and you'll miss how you used to feel!" He made
those exaggerated gestures that I always found so annoying, and "thoughtfully" covered me with the blanket.
"If you feel hungry, I've prepared some food."
I glanced at the fruit plate on the bedside table, a half-peeled piece of fruit, and two glasses of fresh milk.
Sure enough, only by lying weakly and pitifully on the bed could I gain Kanoshima's sympathy and trust.
Sure enough, when I looked back, the hypocritical and lewd little guy was drooling over the poorly concealed shadows.
"Please, consul, give me back all my clothes." I couldn't stand it for another second.
By the time I was helped to get dressed and have my hair done, it was already past midnight.
I had been shot in the right shoulder; thankfully, the bullet was removed in time, otherwise, who knows how badly I would have been injured.
Strangely enough, I didn't feel anything until I saw the layers of bandages, but
ever has been unforgettable.
I grabbed the man on night duty and asked him about yesterday's events. The
one who fired the shot was none other than Qian Manguan. Suddenly, they heard someone firing from the shadows, and everyone reacted
quickly, drawing their weapons and killing several innocent civilians. Only Captain Qian Manguan was terrified,
remaining in a firing position, barely daring to breathe, until he was startled by a beggar who seized the opportunity to escape,
causing me to be unexpectedly wounded and faint.
"The consul was furious at Captain Qian's...cowardly behavior and issued him a serious warning: if
this happens again, he'll be fired immediately."
Hearing this, I couldn't help but laugh. However, the trembling in my chest and the tearing
pain forced me to suppress my laughter.
I was also told that before the one-sided shootout, Gu Qiaochu had taken advantage of the chaos to hide in an alley. Only after Qian Manguan, startled,
fired his gun and began screaming incessantly, did she calmly approach to check on my injuries.
"Clearly two superiors, yet both are more cowardly than the other."
I could only half agree with that. I knew Qian Manguan's character; this certainly fit his personality. But
Gu Qiaochu's movements were highly suspicious. She clearly knew what was going to happen beforehand and hid
to protect herself.
Could all of this have been orchestrated by her?
Strangely enough, the Special Operations Section suffered no losses whatsoever. If she truly planned a surprise attack on
the convoy , how could the Special Operations Section have failed to even catch a glimpse of the enemy?
Could this be somehow connected to the elusive Mei?
Perhaps my injuries hampered my thinking, and I couldn't arrive at a satisfactory answer.
What had just happened in Kanoshima's bedroom felt like a hazy, dreamlike illusion.
Sweet words to a particularly weak and wounded soldier—only someone like Kanoshima would do such a thing. This unassuming, short
man, in his earlier years, had conquered
city after city across China with his treacherous and ruthless policies of conquest and his almost fanatical militaristic ambitions. However, after being promoted exceptionally, he lost his edge and ambition, spending his days idly, content with the status quo,
entrenched in his post at the confluence of the three rivers, stagnant and complacent.
Some say he was framed by his colleagues and abandoned his pursuit of fame and fortune; others say he was gradually
lost to love and gradually strayed from his path. But all of this is irrelevant to me. Now everyone at the consulate thinks I'm just a
foolish woman overflowing with sympathy, using every organ except my brain to think. Naturally, I no longer need to
be ambiguous —a moment of impulsiveness and hot-bloodedness has only resulted in a wound, which conveniently
serves as proof of a disguised form of loyalty.
It really is time for me to get some rest.
I checked the time; it was a little before three o'clock. The enthusiastic beggar had luckily escaped, but
Teng Yan, loyal to the Party and the State, couldn't escape trial. For some reason, I was extremely worried about her safety.
"Mei'er, acting on impulse is a major taboo." If my senior were here, he would definitely have given me such
a serious lecture…
No, no. I don't have a senior by my side, and I'm no longer the person I used to be. The rest of my undercover journey…
It's something I have to figure out on my own. What seems like a fatal weakness can sometimes be a valuable weapon.
I stood up and calmly walked towards the underground prison.
My shoulder didn't seem to hurt as much anymore.
The air in the dungeon was damp, with patches of moss taking over the brick seams and walls.
Carefully stepping down the stairs, I bumped into Gu Qiaochu. She was observing
the prisoners behind the cold bars with great interest.
"Miss Bai's injuries aren't light. Why are you so focused on your work?" She
didn't seem as surprised by my arrival as she claimed.
"Thanks to you, I'm fine. I thought Miss Gu specialized in interrogation, but I didn't expect her medical skills to be so impressive as well."
Having grown accustomed to her charming smile, I finally overcame my inner fear.
Gu Qiaochu was quite proud: "Of course, I'm a medical student. It's better than some bookworms who
can't even muster a skill for self-defense in this dangerous world."
Who was she... implying?
After exchanging pleasantries, Gu Qiaochu suggested showing me around. I hadn't been to the dungeon many times,
so I naturally couldn't name most of the prisoners, and without much thought, I agreed.
We walked to a cell door. I stood on tiptoe to peek inside. A man with a ferocious face was covered
in hot oil, handcuffed to a wooden stake, facing the scorching flames. "The more he screams,
the closer he gets to the torch. It looks like he won't last much longer," she said.
As she spoke, the man screamed in agony, the flames already searing his abdomen, leaving it
a bloody mess . My heart ached at the sight, and I bit my lip, signaling her to move on to another scene.
The next cell was much quieter. A makeshift platform made of hay occupied the entire cell, but the wounded
prisoner stood in a crack in the wall. After a short while, he gritted his teeth and woke up, stiffly moving his legs
before leaning against the wall and falling asleep again.
"This is a prominent figure in the Military Intelligence Bureau, and he was tortured to the point of near death by whipping."
She emphasized the word "prominent figure," her tone and eyes revealing a mocking glint.
"Why doesn't he lie down and sleep?"
"You should learn to observe carefully, instead of asking so many questions."
I stared intently at the thick layer of dry straw, and after a long while, I noticed it was densely covered with
countless grains of salt. I looked again at the bright red welts covering the man's body; it was probably not far from being torn apart.
"Do you want to keep watching?"
I shook my head, panting heavily.
Gu Qiaochu then led me directly to the deepest cell.
A note was pasted on the door, with the name "Teng Yan" written in a few strokes.
I couldn't help but swallow nervously.
Through the gaps in the iron bars, I could see everything happening inside the cell. Aside from the two women
standing , several large and sophisticated instruments lined one side of the room against the wall. Bundles of wires
were haphazardly tangled together, eventually converging into two small, exquisite clamps. In the center of the room stood
a strangely shaped chair, slightly longer at both ends to maintain basic static balance.
Two supports extending from the lower half were secured with wooden shackles, and
over twenty large and small leather straps stretched from top to bottom, making escape virtually impossible.
At this moment, Teng Yan, firmly restrained by the device, showed no sign of moving. Her
disheveled hair obscured her face, and each unbreakable strap was precisely embedded in her fair
skin, confining any potential resistance within a few centimeters of flexible space. The position
of her legs was precisely designed by the special brace, thanks to two smooth, rounded spheres that rested perfectly
against the backs of her knees. Without any friction, she could barely move an inch, no matter how hard she tried.
Her wide feet, encased in dirty cotton socks, were locked in shackles, now wearily motionless, yet still retaining
a degree of self-assurance and pride.
"It's been twelfth day, and Kanoshima Saburo hasn't managed to extract a single word from her. However,
the fruitless interrogation is over. The previous parts were just appetizers; the main course can be served now."
Gu Qiaochu clapped her hands through gritted teeth, giving a few instructions in Japanese I couldn't understand. The two people in the room stepped
forward in unison, one hand gently supporting the heel, the other pinching the sock's toe, ceremoniously removing the sock from the foot's owner.
"What...are you doing?" Her dry, hoarse voice was lifeless, clearly indicating that the previous torture had
ravaged Teng Yan both physically and mentally. She seemed to be trying to maintain her composure, but the strange sensation from her feet
was triggering a panic within her.
"No...don't take off my socks...stop it!" She seemed unaware of her language barrier and
weakly protested, twisting her ankle. However, the more she struggled, the more the cotton socks slipped off
, until finally she was the one voluntarily peeling off her protective charm.
Seeing the exposed area increasing, she began to nervously twist her toes, clinging tightly to
the last crease of the sock, a futile effort. But the Japanese
stopped , simply crumpling the sock around her toes.
They seemed to be waiting for something.
Silence lingered for a long time.
"Stop...thank you..." Finally, Teng Yan breathed a sigh of relief; the creases on the soles of her feet visibly
loosened, and the sock dangled precariously.
"No..." I couldn't help but sigh softly, but then swallowed it back, remembering Gu Qiaochu was right beside me.
The two Japanese men, as if by telepathy, extended their slender fingers and, with a single stroke at the bottom of the stocking, the large
stocking detached from the foot and fell to the ground.
The ten toes twitched and wobbled almost frantically, unable to find that reassuringly large mass.
Their pitiful, disoriented state was perhaps what Gu Qiaochu most wanted to see.
Teng Yan's soles were now completely exposed, but I believed this was only the first step in breaking down her psychological defenses.
Fresh, sweet tea accompanied by fragrant pastries was served, but it was difficult to swallow.
Blindfolded by a rough cloth, Teng Yan's vision was taken away; she slumped weakly in the chair, enduring
the teasing of two unsoaked tea leaves.
Those two Japanese men who had inflicted the torture were indeed skilled; they knew to first touch every part of Teng Yan's body...
He used his skin to relax her body, finding her most vulnerable spot. Observing the tea leaves' journey,
it wasn't hard to see a pattern. The moistened leaf tip started from her nose, traced the lines of her mouth to
her fair, translucent earlobe, paused briefly, then turned downwards, seeping into her sweat-drenched valley, circling her slightly protruding,
pure peaks three and a half times, spreading the smooth sweat evenly. Next, it flowed smoothly along the curves of her body,
only lightly touching her slender waist and delicate calves, only
wetting her toes again. He first moistened her full, textured toes to dissipate their energy, then probed into the hidden spaces between them to clean away unseen
sweat, before embracing her soft, wide soles and sticking to them. The journey of one tea leaf was nearing
its end. Then, a new leaf took its place, giving Teng Yan no chance to breathe.
This periodic teasing had two benefits. Firstly, the repetitive, cyclical pattern of the technique gradually
amplifies the differences in sensitivity. The effects are not significant in the first few repetitions, but become increasingly
unbearable with each subsequent application. Secondly, the endless torture is a form of mental anguish; even the most resilient inner strength cannot withstand
the escalating fear.
Teng Yan is a prime example. For the first three cycles, she maintained an unwavering composure, only
retaliating when the brush touched a small, forbidden area on the inside of her big toe. By the sixth or seventh cycle, when her entire body was being brushed,
her face not only twitched as the tea leaves brushed across her chest, but she also violently slammed against
the soft padding on her ankles because the area around her toes was being emphasized. By this point, the clock had passed halfway down the dial, and the monotonous, mechanical manipulation
had aroused animalistic instincts. Her two red, swollen, bare feet resembled a pair of lionesses chained by the neck, restlessly
curling up the creases of their soles, yet helpless against the perfectly fitting, moist leaves. The delicate leaf tip brushed against her lower body
once more , eliciting helpless roars that turned into low growls, and finally into moans.
"Don't touch me! Stop...stop! Don't...I won't allow you to touch there! Ahhhhh...please
, just that..."
Sitting with Gu Qiaochu at the makeshift tea table five meters away, I dared not utter a sound. I understood that the anxiety and unease hidden deep within my heart were far more severe than the sympathy and pity
written my face.
Tickling...this utterly childish trick had actually made the seemingly resilient Teng Yan break down in an instant, overturning
my understanding of traditional concepts of torture and forced confessions.
What's more, this hadn't even entered the stage of forced confession yet, and her will had already been largely worn down and collapsed.
No matter how strong she was, she couldn't resist for much longer...
and these were only part of the reasons why I was breaking out in a cold sweat.
Just now, less than a second before the Japanese put the blindfold on Teng Yan, we had a brief exchange
of glances . I sensed many possible emotions, but the most certain was panic.
Just by looking into her eyes through her disheveled hair, I felt she seemed to recognize me. She probably recognized
Fireworks, who had been lurking in the consulate at the consulate in Sanjiangkou for so long.
Most likely, she had seen my file in some organization's archives. The reason
was irrelevant at this moment; the key was whether she could withstand the torture and not reveal my identity. If I were betrayed,
not only would the sense of recognition I had just gained vanish, but even stepping out of the dungeon alive would be uncertain…
"Miss Bai, what are you nervously writing?" Gu Qiaochu seemed to notice my unusual expression. I had no choice but
to lie, saying, "This is the first time I've seen such a unique form of interrogation. I didn't expect it to be so effective... Miss Gu, you
are truly decisive and efficient."
"As the saying goes, 'Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated.' Kanoshima Saburo neither understands the mysteries of Chinese military strategy nor
has a perfunctory attitude towards his work. His failure to achieve great things is entirely self-inflicted." Once again, she openly
displayed her contempt for Kanoshima.
"See the torture instruments by the wall? When she was first brought here, she was subjected to 10 milliamps of
alternating current . Aside from screaming and screaming in agony, she couldn't divulge any useful information and
almost had her nerves burned out. She might be killed by this machine, but she will never yield to it. She hasn't changed a bit since our school
days ."
"So, Miss Gu and this prisoner are old acquaintances?"
So this was what Gu Qiaochu meant by "old friend" at the station. What kind of
feelings when torturing her former classmate?
"We used to be...best friends." The words were spoken neither too lightly nor too heavily, leaving me unsure whether they came from the heart or
were a lie.
"And then..."
"Then, we drifted apart. Upon graduation, she chose to continue working with students, while I devoted myself to
higher-level studies. Parting ways always changes things, that's perfectly normal. My
only slight surprise is that when we met again, the forces behind us were already at loggerheads."
Seeing me listening silently, Gu Qiaochu continued, "Miss Bai might wonder why, among countless efficient and powerful interrogation
methods, I chose tickling. The higher-ups' meaning is clear: whether Teng Yan is alive or dead
makes little difference. But Deer Island has its own plans; it intends to parade Teng Yan
through the streets "We need to get her to confess to being a Communist. If the Teng family is willing to pay a generous sponsorship fee, Kanoshima
will turn a blind eye and pretend nothing happened; but if they hesitate even slightly, what awaits the Teng family is not
just the corpse of their beloved daughter after being humiliated, but also the turbulent economic circle of the Three Rivers Estuary, which will naturally make them lose their place.
Kanoshima can then easily eliminate a huge hidden threat. To prevent the Teng family from turning around and using
a tortured confession as a rebuttal, we must use a 'gentle' method that leaves no trace to get Teng Yan to confess. Electric shock won't work,
so I have to do it. After all, I know what she fears deep down."
"But she... isn't she about to give up?" At this moment, the Japanese had already opened
the bag and taken out the thin cotton rope to work on every crease between Teng Yan's toes. Each weak and stubborn toe was
lightly wrapped with the end of the rope, not tightly but leaving a gap to create slight friction. One hand, positioned on either side of the torture device
, pulled backward while the other moved forward, the slender rope gliding lightly between her toes, weakening Teng Yan's
last shred of stubbornness. She struggled, drenched in sweat, her taut toes repeatedly trying to escape the rope's restraints, only
to be thwarted by the irritating itching. Only by shaking off the tea leaves clinging to her soles could she get a chance to rest, but
little did she know, the Japanese had secretly tampered with the system, ensuring that not a single tea leaf would leave her feet.
"Beasts! Scoundrels! Scum! You will never succeed!" Teng Yan roared with all her might, but
the Japanese couldn't understand a word. They continued to pull the thin rope with unrestrained pleasure, and those poor feet
were forced to continue betraying their master—Teng Yan abandoned all dignity and laughed painfully.
It was laughter, yet it was filled with the taste of tears.
So I cried too. I held back my tears, said a brief goodbye to Gu Qiaochu, and hurried towards the dungeon exit.
This kind of life was too heavy…
In the following days, I shuttled between my residence, the pharmacy, and the consulate.
After learning of my injury, my senior sent me a secret letter, instructing me to put down my spy work before the end of the year, not only
to recuperate but also to remain vigilant about the increasingly pessimistic political situation at Sanjiangkou. According to intercepted intelligence from the Military Intelligence
Bureau , the National Revolutionary Army would take major action against the consulate in the near future, and staying near Kanoshima would likely put
my own safety at risk.
Mei. This name constantly disturbed my heartstrings. It seems my senior isn't entirely aware of his situation, but I vaguely
sense that the increasingly turbulent situation at Sanjiangkou, and the various underhanded maneuvers of different forces, cannot be completely
severed .
Since my senior openly forbids me from dedicating myself to work, I should find an excuse to distance myself from the consulate as soon as possible
… But how?
So bitter… After swallowing the steaming hot medicine, I was about to rest my head on the table for a moment, exhausted, when I suddenly
heard the crisp sound of pebbles hitting the window. In the middle of the night, it shouldn't be some mischievous child's prank.
Could it be…?
A discordant sound suddenly came from outside the door, creaking and groaning, barely audible in the quiet night—
the sound of wooden planks being trampled. I was certain someone was silently waiting for the opportunity to break down the door.
In the pitch-black darkness, I grabbed a dagger and, without daring to utter a sound, crept towards the door. Walking
barefoot on the cold, hard floor was awful, but I was afraid the friction of my slippers would
alert anyone approaching. Even without injuries, my chances of winning a hand-to-hand fight were practically zero, especially with
an ; but staying inside meant certain death…
I nervously pressed my ear against the door, terrified that my pounding heart would give away my
eavesdropping . The other side of the door was deathly silent…
Perhaps determined to strike first, I impulsively pushed open the door and charged in, stabbing wildly
. My eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkness; I only saw a gaunt figure disappear into the pitch-black
darkness , nimbly dodging my blade. He seemed to know my shoulder injury well, striking my still
-healing wound with a heavy blow. I screamed in pain, releasing my grip on the knife. A hand expertly wrapped around my waist; with just
a light squeeze, I felt my body go numb, collapsing limply into his arms.
"Trying to scheme against me, you've got some nerve!" I recognized the voice; it was Qian Manguan.
He forcefully forced a strange-tasting liquid into my mouth and then pulled out a bundle of rope to tie my hands and feet. Although Qian
Manguan wasn't particularly burly, I was no match for him. I was quickly subdued and forced
into his noose. "If you dare scream, don't blame the knife for being merciless!" The knife sliced
across leaving a layer of bright red blood droplets. I dared not shout.
He carried me, powerless to resist, to the bed and began tearing my robe. "Tell me, was it you who
cried and begged the consul on Kanoshima, blaming me, that almost cost me my job?" He wantonly groped
my body. I struggled in defiance, only to be met with three resounding slaps.
"What you're doing now is truly ruining your future!" Unexpectedly, Qian Manguan was completely enraged by these words.
He grabbed the comb from my desk and began to tickle my bare feet. The sharp teeth of the comb grazed my smooth soles
, sending chills down my spine. I tried to escape, but I couldn't avoid the horizontal and vertical scraping. I could only suppress
a chuckle.
So terrible… so uncomfortable… Is this the suffering Teng Yan endured? I shook my head, itching
uncontrollably tears streaming down my face. My lips parted, but I couldn't utter a single word; only brief, strained
laughs escaped. I desperately wanted to free my hands and tightly protect my sensitive soles, but no matter how hard I tried, I
couldn't break free from those strong ropes, only leaving bloody welts.
"You wear high heels and stockings all day, and now I finally see your bare feet. If the scent isn't strong enough, I won't be
satisfied…" What… what does that mean? Through my blurry, tear-filled eyes, I saw him stick out his wet tongue,
smearing my big toe with his filthy saliva. Licking… disgusting licking… all ten of my toes
fell into his sinful mouth, sucked helplessly, feeling utterly dejected.
“Get… get away! Get off my foot!” Seeing that slippery thing crawling onto my sole
and being completely helpless, a surge of overwhelming shame made me scream desperately. I kicked, and
Qian Manguan, who was enjoying his licking, was sent flying three meters, crashing headfirst into the corner of the desk, blood flowing freely instantly.
"White Eyebrows...you're actually a communist..." He shakily scrambled to his feet, clutching the wall, and grabbed
a letter, his rage uncontrollable. "I really didn't expect such an unexpected gain...Well, this is great! All I have to
do is report this to Consul Kanoshima, and I'll be promoted and rich, not to mention I can get rid of this eyesore of a slut like you!"
He stormed into the bathroom, rummaged around for a bit, and came back with a large wooden brush in his hand. "Do you know
what I just gave you to drink? Imported diuretics, a gift from Miss Gu. Haven't you already let a few drops
leak ? Hold it in a little longer, and I'll personally scratch you until you guzzle down your cheeks, that would be the best sight, wouldn't it?"
I was terrified. I shrank into the corner like a white maggot, begging him not to
touch me. He wouldn't listen, resolutely pressing the brush bristles against the soles of my feet.
"Let me tell you, White Eyebrow, I despise people like you the most. Aren't you just a traitor? Always
acting all high and mighty, putting on airs, who are you trying to fool? So you're the one drinking and yelling with the Japanese at night,
aren't you? You look down on me, you want to bring me down, you've got guts! You bitch, this
isn't over until you pee your pants!"
He attacked without hesitation. I didn't even last a second.
A gush of heat gushed out, pouring out between my legs in a spectacular display.
Something shattered in that instant.
It had once been breathtakingly beautiful, but now it was fragmented.
A lingering gunshot interrupted everything.
Qian Manguan hurriedly left, his retreating figure so disheveled, yet I couldn't laugh at all.
What right did I have to laugh at him?
I hadn't noticed while struggling, but now, looking at my right shoulder, the bandage was soaked with blood. This injury had been
wasted.
"I've driven him away." A familiar yet unfamiliar man walked in; only the old
scar on his face reminded me who he was.
Zhong Yutong, my childhood sweetheart, codenamed Old Wolf, a key underground member of our Party. From school to joining the Party,
we were practically inseparable. This highly capable man had lost contact with me after infiltrating the Nationalist army, and now, at this critical
moment, we met again—what a coincidence!
He helped me untie the ropes, letting me move my arms and legs. Seeing me leaning blankly against the wall, unwilling to move, he
opened his arms to hug me.
"Don't touch me...don't touch me..." I pounded his chest defiantly, afraid he would see
what was happening beneath me. But he seemed completely unconcerned, his feet still in the urine, comforting me, "Trying
to pull this ? It's not like I haven't seen you wet the bed before, what's there to be ashamed of?"
It was undeniably effective. Like a child who had been comforted, I nestled comfortably into his arms.
"I'm so useless...really...I've even exposed my identity, what's the point of me hiding anymore!" I buried my face in his
broad shoulder, tears streaming down my face. My tear ducts seem to be getting more and more developed...
"It's not good to deny yourself like that, you little crybaby." Perhaps because we knew each other well,
Yu Tong was one of the few men I was willing to be intimate with. His large hand stroked my spine, it was so warm, so very
warm ...
"Tell me, what's that person's reputation like on Deer Island?"
"To be honest, not so good..." I tried my best to hold back my tears and told Yu Tong the whole story about what happened with Qian
. During the listening session, he nodded frequently, analyzing something intently.
"Judging from the past, if Qian Manguan revealed your secrets to Kanoshima, how much trust would he have?"
"He's been busy working for the Japanese, so at least 80%..."
He nodded, then continued, "Considering his conflict with you, Kanoshima might suspect he's framing
you out of revenge. In that case, how much trust would he have?"
"50%...? Kanoshima is definitely on my side now." I tilted my head, finding Yu Tong's words quite
reasonable .
"This guy has been plotting against you for a long time, and today he's done whatever he wants, revealing his true colors. You, on the other hand, were
completely in self-defense. How much trust could Kanoshima have in such a despicable man who coveted your body?"
"At most 20%."
He stood up with satisfaction, picked up the crumpled letters, and burned them with a lighter.
"Words are meaningless. Without evidence, he has no chance of winning."
I laughed through my tears. But then I thought again, and I couldn't help but feel troubled.
"I clearly... clearly swore to break free from the care of my seniors and walk my own path... but I'm actually
so lost that I don't even know what I can do..."
Suddenly, I felt my face being gently cupped. Yu Tong was looking at me with tender eyes, scolding me:
"If you only know how to solve problems by crying, it's no wonder you're confused. Bai Mei, you're most easily swayed by emotions, which is
n't inherently right or wrong. However, undercover work isn't about emotions, but about rational and intelligent games and counterattacks
. I dare say you've suffered a lot because of acting on emotions, but you still stubbornly believe you're not wrong.
To live a new life, you have to get rid of all the bad habits of your old self, right? Also, don't mention that
person, that's our agreement, isn't it?"
"Um... I was indeed wrong..." I lowered my head knowing I was in the wrong.
These words were incredibly realistic and hurtful, yet also incredibly sincere. I keep saying I want to change, but ultimately, I 'm
still immature…
Although Yu Tong and my senior don't get along, they both pinpoint my flaws and are role models for me to
learn .
The gunshot was so loud; it would definitely arouse suspicion. After treating my injuries, Yu Tong told me to rest and
hurried out the door, but I was filled with questions and didn't want to leave. I called him back, asking how he had managed to save
me.
He seemed embarrassed and stammered, unable to give a clear answer.
"I heard from my senior that the Military Intelligence Bureau is planning something big lately, something about taking action against the consulate?
If I'm not mistaken, you came to Sanjiang Estuary for this, right?"
Unexpectedly, as soon as I spoke, Yu Tong's face turned ashen, and he glared at me with icy
eyes .
"Oh, look how stupid I am, I broke the contract again. Sorry, sorry..." I belatedly realized I'd said the wrong thing and
tried to go over and shake him, but was rudely pushed away.
"Wh...what's wrong? Didn't I apologize...?" I stood there, bewildered.
"How...how did that news leak out? Damn it..." The Zhong Yutong I knew seemed
like a completely different person, muttering viciously to himself. He reached for something at his waist.
No way...no...
a strange feeling welled up inside me, my keen hearing telling me someone had fired another shot.
But it wasn't Zhong Yutong. He slowly pulled out his gun, as if going through a long internal struggle, and
handed it to me.
"Another hidden gun...it's not safe lately, take this for self-defense." For some reason, he kept his face
down.
Am I being too neurotic? I felt that Yutong just now was terrifying...
seeing that I didn't dare to take it, he put it on the ground and kicked me.
"Bai Mei... Believe me, I won't do anything out of line unless absolutely necessary. I'll
figure out a new place for you... That's all..."
He quickly left. I picked up the pistol and shouted at him, "I don't know how to use this..."
"You don't necessarily have to shoot yourself, do you?" Our rare meeting ended with this abrupt remark.
Yu Tong... he's acting strangely... Was that murderous intent that flashed across his face for a moment...?
And the constant gunshots lately, are they a signal of killing, or a covert protection for me...?
I don't understand. I understand less and less.
When I arrived at the consulate again, I met Kanoshima Saburo in person.
"That Qian Manguan guy, he's crazy, mentally unstable, he actually framed Miss Bai Mei, betrayed me, and gave the Communists..."
"Serving the Party. I asked him to produce evidence, but he only pulled out an empty envelope. It's infuriating! I've already
sent someone to take him to collect garbage." Although his words were somewhat incoherent, it was clear that Kanoshima was
extremely disappointed in Qian Manguan.
I secretly rejoiced. Now, with a little thought, I should realize that gambling on a close-quarters battle with Qian Manguan back then would have been absolutely
foolish. I maintained my habit of acting on emotion, but I forgot my expertise in medicine. If it weren't for Zhong
Yutong's help, my fate would probably have been far more than just losing my job.
So, it's all about learning from others' strengths and compensating for one's weaknesses. Using one's wisdom more often really doesn't hurt.
I suggested to Kanoshima that I temporarily leave the consulate to recuperate, but he was clearly worried that I would just leave. After some
negotiation , Kanoshima made a concession—I could
work from home and no longer have to go to the consulate every day. I agreed for the time being.
He suggested that I take one last trip to the dungeon, which I did.
After not seeing her for several days, Teng Yan had indeed lost a lot of weight. Her disheveled and haggard appearance was heartbreaking. She
looked listless, her empty eyes filled with a despairing gloom.
The same two familiar Japanese women were there, their neatly trimmed nails scratching at Teng Yan's exposed armpits.
Teng Yan could only manage a few dry laughs now and then; otherwise, she remained in a state of exhaustion. It seemed not that her armpits were insensitive,
but simply that she lacked the strength to laugh.
After confirming that the Japanese women didn't speak Chinese, I gestured for them to stop and whispered, "
Comrade , how much longer can you hold on? Please, please hold on until the very last moment, don't give up!"
"Not much... I'm at my limit... cough cough!" She seemed to be trying to force a
smile, but it failed miserably. "My feet aren't ticklish, Gu Qiaochu probably knew that many years ago. My performance
that day was too clumsy, and she saw through it at a glance, but she wisely cooperated with me to make it real,
with the aim of luring you into a trap. If you were in a hurry to contact the organization because you were worried that I would confess immediately, you would be exposed.
Fortunately, you seem to be safe and sound..."
I noticed that two droppers were hanging directly above Teng Yan's bare feet, and the viscous liquid flowing down covered
the soles of her feet. "Gu Qiaochu specially formulated this medicine to increase sensitivity. My soles are so tender they
can't withstand even a breeze... You, hurry up and leave... hurry..."
Just then, Gu Qiaochu pushed open the door and entered, ending my conversation with Teng Yan. Her hostility towards me
seemed have increased significantly. Could it be that she believed Qian Manguan's words?
"Come on, what precious things do you want to tell me today?" She pouted and breathed on Teng Yan's soles
, a high-decibel scream that instantly startled my eardrums, but she still sent a gentle breeze as if she hadn't heard it.
"My father knows calligraphy... My youngest son studied abroad... Erhuang doesn't like to eat big fish and meat... Spare me! Spare
me, ahhhhhh!" Teng Yan was so weak that she couldn't even squeeze out tears, just
babbling ...
I definitely couldn't stay here any longer. I prayed for Teng Yan one last time, grabbed the relevant files, and rushed out
of the consulate.
To escape my oppressive mood, I went to the new address sent by someone named Old Wolf—a
simple courtyard in the suburbs. The courtyard was clean and pleasing to the eye, and after a quick check, it seemed fully furnished—a
decent residence.
Just as I was thinking this, I noticed a figure flitting about inside the house. Like an unnamed
flower , so elegant and carefree.
"Excuse me… who's there?" With the wariness I'd developed recently, I slipped a bottle of
burn .
A girl's delicate face appeared, and she calmly uttered the
name .
"Mei. My name is Mei."
An indescribable surprise made me pause. When my thoughts returned, I felt
a burning sensation .
I had actually dropped the entire bottle of burn ointment at my feet.
Before I could fully blame myself for my poor mental fortitude, I probably needed to extinguish the blazing fire first
.
Water… where was the water?
Fortunately, there was a small pond in a corner of the courtyard. A strangely shaped artificial mountain stood in a clear, bright
pond. A few lotus leaves adorned the surface, creating ripples. A small, emerald-green creature lay
motionless on the floating leaves, resembling an adorable "Sleeping Frog." "
I'm so sorry to disturb your sweet dreams,"
I silently apologized, plopped down on a rock by the pond, and plunged my feet into
the water without even taking off my shoes. The pond water, at the turn of autumn and winter, held a biting chill; that penetrating cold might be
deadly , but at this moment it was my lifeline.
After soaking for about a minute, I pulled my feet out of the water. There were charred marks on the sides of my shoes, and my socks
had several holes, but thankfully my skin wasn't damaged.
I struggled to my feet with one hand, only to realize how ridiculous I looked—my cheongsam
was a mess of wrinkles, and my waist was soaking wet, dripping water. I vaguely remember there were other people around
… If there were a crack in the ground, I would have crawled into it!
I was still awkwardly struggling with how to explain my clumsy behavior to the woman who called herself "Mei,"
when she rushed over to ask about my injuries. I should have been wary of a stranger's kindness,
but after looking at her face up close, I knew there was no need to.
She had a pair of pure, innocent round eyes, a pair of cute, short ears, a small, flat, pink
nose , and a small, cherry-red mouth. These features weren't particularly striking, but together
they should have been pleasing to the eye.
But she was missing eyebrows. Not only that, but where her eyebrows should have been were two shallow scars
, and they didn't look like old wounds, but rather recent ones.
If I wasn't mistaken, she had recently suffered burns. She had personally experienced the pain of burning, which was why
she was so concerned about others.
To scrutinize a kind person with suspicion and doubt is surely going too far, isn't it? Is it the potential
dangers around me that are making me increasingly neurotic?
I took a step back, then another, feeling somewhat embarrassed. On my fifth step, I suddenly
realized there was nothing supporting my heels.
So I had a second intimate encounter with the waist-deep pond.
"Pull me...pull me out!" I cried out to "Mei," who was standing still, and she immediately stretched out
her arm without hesitation.
What a kind soul... but if only that kindness had a bit more strength.
Because I could clearly feel that her arm wasn't strong enough to pull me out of the water. Or rather, she was the one who
should be pulled.
Splash, splash. The pond was unusually lively today.
Until dinner in the evening, "Mei" didn't utter another word. After we both fell into the pond, she always
avoided direct communication with me. I had initially liked her quite a bit, but upon reflection, it didn't seem logical. How could she say the name "Mei" so easily? I patiently waited for the opportunity to speak to her
, carrying a series of unanswered questions . A kind neighbor across the street, knowing I had just moved in, brought me a plate of stew. If she knew I was Bai Mei herself, she'd probably have to pay for a meal at a restaurant tonight. Mei and I sat on opposite sides of the round table, as if by prior arrangement. I stared at her silently, and she stared silently at the steaming cauliflower on her plate . "Are you... hungry?" After searching my brain for a long time without finding a suitable opening, I could only force out an appropriate question. She shook her head with a conflicted expression, but her rumbling stomach immediately betrayed her. A delicate blush crept onto her cheeks, and she gently stamped her foot while covering her stomach with her hands. For a moment, I even found her surprisingly cute. After an awkward silence, we both picked up our chopsticks and silently began to eat the hard, leftover steamed buns from the kitchen. The simple dinner was quite enjoyable, but I thought a lot during the meal. Before eating, Mei had tried to do something, but after a moment of eye contact with me, she restrained herself and then casually picked up her chopsticks and started eating. Why? Neither of us was very skilled with chopsticks. My right hand had just been re-treated, and switching to my rarely used left hand was inevitably awkward; but "Mei," despite having both hands intact, struggled for ages with a tiny leaf of vegetable, neither gaining the upper hand. Why? Recalling her self-introduction during our first meeting, that unique accent didn't seem to come from any nearby region , yet it felt strangely familiar, as if I'd heard it somewhere before. Why? An answer surfaced in my mind. I had to meet this "Mei." During the meal, I repeatedly sprinkled "Xiaoyao San" (a type of anesthetic) into her food when she wasn't looking. "Xiaoyao San" sounded unfathomable, but it was actually just a modified version of an anesthetic. This drug dissolved instantly in water, leaving only a negligible amount of sediment. Once ingested in excess of a certain dose, it would take effect in just ten minutes, causing numbness and weakness in the limbs while retaining sensation—a perfect remedy for gentle, private torture. After a satisfying meal—no, just a full meal—I noticed "Mei" smacked her lips contentedly and got up to leave, but suddenly her legs gave way and she fell back into her seat. She tried to steady herself by bracing herself on the table, but predictably slumped back into the wooden chair. It seemed to have worked. "You…you…did you…feed me…something!" She quickly realized the problem, her eyes filled with barely suppressed annoyance, twisting her waist in protest. "No, you swallowed it all yourself, bite by bite. It has little to do with me, right?" I smiled and walked over, teasingly observing her struggling body. "Let's…talk somewhere else." "Are you ticklish?" This was a very weighty question. I didn't want to hurt the girl leaning against the headboard, but I needed to get her to tell the truth. Based on my own experience and the practical conclusions I'd drawn from Gu Qiaochu, tickling was the perfect solution for the current situation. "No...of course not..." Her voice trembled with excessive anxiety, sounding so pale and weak. I watched as she gritted her teeth, propped herself up on her knees, and desperately tried to bury her smooth, delicate feet under the sheets, only to have them gently pulled back into place by my touch. This happened several times; her shirt was already slightly damp, the semi-transparent fabric revealing her hazy outline, as if only when wet with sweat could her unique beauty shine through. Slowly, as if admiring a fine but fragile piece of porcelain, I gently lifted her heel to my chin for a closer look . My reason for this description was very simple—her feet were truly beautiful. Two smooth, rounded curves framed a plump little foot, the arch slightly concave, while the rosy instep was full and supple. Her long, slender second toe was a head higher than the third toe on one side, slightly level with her strawberry-sized big toe. Her five toes, under the influence of the medication, were quietly huddled together, like a nest of sleeping silkworms, utterly endearing . I extended my nimble little finger and slowly inserted it into the sweaty gaps between her toes. The one having lost the strength to pull her toes away, could only reluctantly spread them apart. All I needed to do were rotate and pull. I had secretly observed this during the interrogation of Teng Yan , and wondered if a similar technique could be used on others; today, it seemed to be feasible . In the blink of an eye, the stubborn woman who called herself "Mei" changed her demeanor, puffing out her cheeks as if enduring something. It was just a gentle touch… It seems that the gaps between the toes are a common weakness for all ticklish girls! "I only allow you to tell this one lie. You should know perfectly well ?" She didn't answer. I had no choice but to say it for her. I removed the decorative feather from my round hat and gently stroked my sensitive, delicate toes. The soft feather was like ocean waves, seemingly gentle and refined, yet turbulent beneath; my soles, bound by an invisible hand, were like a thin layer of fine sand, destined to be washed by the waves no matter how much I lingered. If the scrubbing of the soles with a hard brush was a head-on clash of swords , then the teasing of the foot's texture with feather tips was a classic example of using softness to overcome hardness. The power of a single feather may be insignificant, but the combined force of hundreds of feathers becomes formidable. The feathers, adhering to the "hit and run" tactic, used an irresistibly soft and gentle friction to transmit urgent signals to the nerve endings scattered beneath the skin, targeting the cerebral cortex of the person being tickled.

She laughed. From a pouting, suppressed laugh to a deflated chuckle, and then to a wide, squinting laugh. It
was a pure, simple laugh, unburdened by pleas or curses; a vibrant, colorful
laugh, brimming with brilliance; a contradictory laugh that evoked both pity and sympathy, yet made one reluctant to stop; a laugh that stung me with a mix of emotions,
a laugh I couldn't place, both familiar and strange. Her laugh seemed ethereal, as if it had touched the clouds, yet also
profound, as if it had plunged into the ocean. Perhaps that smile had trodden across a vast field of flowers, carrying their fresh fragrance—or
perhaps, but certainly, it was tinged with the rich, creamy scent of a whole bottle of morning milk. Pulling my thoughts back, I realized
she had simply been tickled by a feather and had laughed.
"Who...who are you?" I asked firmly and decisively.
"Mei...I really...am Mei..."
was the answer I least wanted to hear. If she had answered, "You'll never know," perhaps I wouldn't have been
so heartless .
"You have two feet," I said, turning to grab my hat. "Likewise, I have two feathers."
A clap of thunder suddenly sounded outside the window, followed by a torrential downpour. The downpour drowned out all sound,
and I didn't need to look at that silent mouth.
So, I just kept scratching.
The next morning, on the way back from the breakfast stall, the air was exceptionally fresh. Indeed, rainwater purifies everything
.
How long had it been since I felt so relaxed and carefree? I didn't care that my shoes were stuck in the mud, staining my socks,
or that the early-rising sparrows were chirping incessantly on the branches… I was completely immersed in
enjoying the simple pleasures of life, forgetting all my worries.
The night before, the wide-open window let in rain, the dense raindrops whistling in with the wind. I couldn't tell if the person in front of me
had a tear-streaked face or was simply soaked. I only knew that I had gone too far.
As she pleaded, "Let me go," I was still intently tickling her, using the feather
that tormented her to the point of agonizing pain to scratch her bare feet, then rubbing her smooth, firm armpits with my fingers together
. In a daze, I seemed to be lost in the moment.
What jolted me awake was her fist. It wasn't particularly forceful; she, still recovering from the effects of the drug, threw a
weak punch, which I should have easily caught. But when I looked into her tearful eyes
, I wavered.
Those eyes seemed to say, "Let go… I'm not feeling well…" I saw that night with perfect clarity. Was I really that different
from Saburo Kanoshima then ? Perhaps we were cut from the same mold. And so, when that fist gently struck my face, I truly woke up. What… what was I doing? I kept saying I didn't want to hurt her, yet I was doing the very things I had once despised and scorned. Have I poured too much personal emotion into this? Perhaps the experiences of the past two years have already crushed me. Faced with the manipulative Kashima, I chose to endure; faced with the beastly Qian Manguan, I chose to endure; but now, faced with a helpless stranger, I choose to explode. Bullying the weak and fearing the strong—this is too realistic. Why choose tickling as a method? Was that explanation sincere, or just self-deception …? I think of Teng Yan, tormented to the point of near death. Is she alright? Can she still smile? The soles are covered in sticky substance, layer upon layer, enveloping and moisturizing her delicate insteps like a newborn baby. A gentle breeze could send her into hell, let alone the rows of scrubbers waiting in the wings. Although I don't know what kind of grudges and entanglements exist between Gu and Teng , I suppose Gu Qiaochu wouldn't show any mercy. In a few hours, Teng Yan will go mad. Her eyes will glaze over, and in a delirious state, she'll spill all her secrets. On New Year's Eve, she'll be taken to the most luxurious district, frantically confessing her underground identity in front of everyone. That would be the end. That would be for the best. ...? Why am I saying this? Am I hoping for such an ending? That drug to increase sensitivity, it was Gu Qiaochu who concocted it, wasn't it? It has nothing to do with me, right? The test at the train station didn't expose my drugging skills; my residence wasn't searched after I was shot and knocked unconscious; Gu Qiaochu didn't use any double meanings in our brief conversation in the dungeon; my frequent visits to the pharmacy during that period had no other purpose than treating my wounds; Qian Manguan's late-night ambush wasn't fruitless—he only got an empty envelope, just an empty envelope. Is it really nothing? I slapped myself hard, while "Mei" cowered silently in the corner, terrified. It turns out my feelings for Teng Yan weren't reverence or admiration, but jealousy. Naked jealousy. But what was I jealous of? What kind of jealousy drove me to create a potion to harm her? I realized I'd never mentioned Teng Yan's code name. She had a code name, didn't she? But what was it …? Thinking carefully, concentrating… I couldn't remember. Was it really that I couldn't remember? Another slap. As if drowning out thunder. When Yan Hua was praised by the organization, Bai Mei bore the heavy burden of infamy; yet Teng Yan remained beloved and followed by the young students. So this is what the code name meant to me, which is why I deliberately ignored it, pretending to forget. Time and again, I told myself "don't act impulsively" to remain still, but wasn't it really because I wanted to watch Teng Yan become a traitor, thus achieving a laughable self-satisfaction? I thought I wasn't obsessed with fame and fortune, that I only wanted to diligently complete my mission… In the end, I'd deceived myself so deeply. Having been entangled in the halo of my work for so long, when I finally shed it, I realized how dirty, how narrow-minded, how despicable I was. Perhaps this is the real me, the true me. I thought of Yu Tong again. He saved me, yet he wanted to harm me—that's contradictory; he also offered me shelter— that's even more contradictory. But ultimately, was his life as contradictory as mine? My senior must have seen through me long ago, and Yu Tong must have seen through me too. Did the gun he gave me imply that I should end my own life? "If you hate me, shoot me." In a moment of impulsiveness, I handed the pistol to "Mei," but she refused to take it.

"I don't like it, dead people! Besides... I don't know how to use this..."
"We really are... in some ways, quite alike."
I couldn't help but chuckle, but my smile looked like a grimace.
The next morning, I went to visit the doctor at the nearby pharmacy early.
"Sir, please take a look at me, do I have some kind of mental problem? Like depression, mania or something
..."
"Where am I supposed to see you for that..." The old man stroked his goatee, slowly taking three steps forward, "Look at
you, clutching your stomach with that troubled look on your face, you must have gas, right? Don't just think about filling your stomach with stew at night, irregular eating
habits will kill you!"
It turned out I was overthinking it, my mental health is still quite good.
I can't even remember when I last swore to be myself again. But that's irrelevant
.
At least this time I really have to listen to my seniors. I'll listen to them, put all that escapism
behind me , and simply return to life.
"How much are the fried dough sticks?"
"Two bowls of soy milk, to go."
"Miss, I meant the fried dough sticks..."
"Bai Mei is a bastard. No, she's even worse than a bastard."
"Are you out of your mind?"
"No, of course not." I took the two bags of soy milk and let my tears drip into the boiling oil .
Let me be willful one last time; I won't cry
anymore. "I just... have gas."
The air was exceptionally fresh on the way back from the breakfast stall. Indeed, rainwater purifies everything.
"It would be even better if there were fried dough sticks..."
I didn't say anything. A considerable sense of guilt made me speechless.
The person in front of me was indeed Mei.
However, not the "Mei" I understood.
Amamiya Mei, that was her name. After months of exile in the Three Rivers Estuary, she had recently been hiding in this mansion.
Through her own words, I was able to understand this seemingly mysterious girl more deeply and finally figured out
some of the mysteries that had troubled me for so long. The following is my slightly edited version.
I was born in Osaka, Japan, on November 12, 1919. My father, a man of old-fashioned and conservative nature, refused to listen to
others' suggestions and named me Mei (梅). In my hometown, this was not a suitable name choice.
Perhaps for this reason, I was extremely stubborn and obstinate in my childhood, rarely doing anything without permission
. When my friends went fishing in the river, I would always stand far from the bank, shouting with envy,
"Be careful, don't get swept away!"
Call it self-protection or cowardice, but to me at the time, it wasn't something to be
ashamed of; it just made my life a little less interesting. I could find other ways to pass the time,
so what was there to be upset about?
So I began to be enthusiastic about other things. On my father's bookshelf was a book of annotated Chinese classical poetry. I skimmed
through it and guessed that the verses were beautiful, but unfortunately, I couldn't understand them. I asked my father if I could learn
Chinese , but unfortunately, I received a negative answer.
Well, there was nothing I could do. My father wouldn't allow me to learn, so I guessed I shouldn't!
As for my attempts to learn archery, tea ceremony, and so on, they all ultimately fizzled out, which is another story. Oh, and
I also studied painting, but unfortunately, I had no talent. My teacher criticized me, saying, "Did you draw a pile of shit?" and I
never picked up a brush again.
As this continued, I felt my life becoming increasingly dull and monotonous. Should I pursue what
I truly wanted? From that moment on, I truly began to reflect on my life and started to question
the beliefs I had upheld for so many years.
The turning point in my life was the summer I was seventeen. One summer evening, as I
ran barefoot to the riverbank in a floral dress, too afraid to go into the water, someone pushed me from behind.
I fell straight into the flowing river. I thought I was going to drown, so I struggled desperately,
but the water didn't even reach my neck. I focused on feeling the current washing over my body, and those inexplicable
fears vanished completely, as if they had never been there.
It wasn't so bad after all. It wasn't scary at all.
The knot in my heart that had lingered for years was untied like a joke.
"Brother Lian! I knew it was you!" I picked up a pebble and threw
it . The man caught it effortlessly. When I threw it back, the stone had turned into a candy.
"Weren't you busy with work? Why are you back so rarely..." Lian is my cousin, only
three years older than me, but a famous general who has received praise from the Emperor. He has been traveling extensively in recent years, and his unexpected return home
really surprised me. To my question, he just smiled and waved his hand, avoiding the topic.
"Mei, how do you feel about accomplishing a 'feat' that even children take for granted?" he asked me instead
.
"How should I put it? I just always feel so full, so fulfilled... Wait, that doesn't sound like a compliment
?"
"Right, it's not a compliment." He didn't even take off his clothes before getting into the water, looking me straight in the eye with a serious expression.
"Doing things you never even dared to dream of is happiness, and doing things you've always longed for is ecstasy.
Mei, you want to live a new life, right? I know you've always wanted to learn Chinese. I came back this time
for no other reason than to ask if you'd be willing to come with me to China."
Suddenly, the world became so quiet, so quiet that you couldn't hear the gentle lapping of the stream against the sand, couldn't hear the disordered
breathing . In Lian Ge's eyes seemed to dwell a deity, as if He had waited for me for a long time; a gesture of seventeen years.
"Let's call her Mei, what a lovely child." It was my father's soft murmur. Thanks to my father, I've always been
lovely. I should thank him.
"Where is Mei hiding to wipe away her tears again? Coward! Coward! Coward..." Familiar yet
unfamiliar faces appeared, repeating the same words. I couldn't recall their names, nor did I want to listen any longer.
"I'm leaving." Who said that? Ah, it was Lian-ge, the same man from five years ago, standing tall,
packing his bags, ready to set off to forge his own path. Back then, I was crying my eyes out,
my uncle's family was heartbroken, and my father was lamenting that Lian-ge had chosen the wrong path.
No one could have imagined that Lian-ge would eventually become the pride of the Amamiya family.
To do what he had always dreamed of... what I longed for... what I had suppressed in my heart for so many years...
Lian told me that agreeing to his request was simple: just do something I'd never even dared to dream of before.
I forgot everything else; all I wanted was to see the peaceful scene of East Asian co-prosperity and
recite poetry with native Chinese people, so I readily agreed.
He helped me take off my soaking wet dress and began to fondle my body. He boldly rubbed those areas, and
I naturally felt a little shy, so I tore open a candy wrapper and put a plum candy in my mouth.
"Is it sweet?"
"Sweet, so sweet."
"Want some more?"
Then I made the decision I regretted most in seventeen years.
I didn't tell my father about leaving Japan. Hiding in the cabin, peeking through the small window at my hometown gradually
disappearing into the mist, was the most vivid memory of my ecstasy.
I tasted the sweetness of freedom, and naturally wanted a second, a third taste, but no one ever told me that
unrestrained freedom was a taboo.
After landing on the river, the first thing I did was call home to let them know I was safe, hoping my father would forgive my rash
actions. I entrusted the letter I had written to Brother Lian to mail, but I never received a reply. "He probably acquiesced,"
Brother Lian comforted me.
At that time, the two countries had not yet formally declared war, and I was completely unaware of the urgent situation of the local battles. Under Brother Lian
's care, I spent a leisurely and comfortable period, listening to the teacher recite poetry and practicing calligraphy every day, feeling quite
content . During that time, I grew closer to Brother Lian and gradually discovered many
differences between him and the glorious image in my mind. For example, he proposed to share a bed with me more and more often, but I didn't want to refuse directly;
compared to his equally distinguished officers, he was always inferior,
and it … Brother Lian seemed to no longer be the Brother Lian I knew.
I kept these questions to myself and never revealed them to Brother Lian—after all, without him, I could not realize
my childhood dream. I should be grateful, not suspicious at every turn. It wasn't until the full-scale outbreak of war in 1937 that
I realized the so-called "peaceful coexistence between Japan and China" and the "prosperity sphere of influence in East Asia" were all
lies that deceived me and even the entire nation. I angrily confronted Ren-ge, questioning him about why he had lied to me, but he just smiled
and waved his hand, avoiding the topic.
"Ren Amamiya! You brought me to China just to let me witness the horrors of war and watch innocent
civilians be caught in the crossfire? Answer me! Answer me!"
As if stung by my words, Ren-ge knelt down in front of me. "Forgive me... Mei... I beg
you, please forgive your brother!" He began to kowtow repeatedly, his broad forehead slamming violently against
the cold floor tiles, spraying out several streams of viscous crimson blood that landed on my skirt, filling the air with a
nauseating, fishy smell.
I recoiled in fright, but the delirious Ren clung tightly to my leg, his eyes glazed as he recounted the
shocking truth: "Brother, I'm not some high-ranking official. Everything I have today is the result of sacrificing
my dignity and licking countless shoes clean... Ren is a cowardly wimp, everyone knows
that, but I didn't want my dearest ones to know! I lied to the villagers, saying I'd made something of myself, everyone
looked at me with new respect, Father finally gave me his approval, and you even see me as a role model... Numbing myself, it was
foolish, but it was truly joyful! I can walk with my head held high now, I can live freely!" "
Then why...?"
"But, but! My pretense of power has come to an end, my act has been exposed! Mei,
look at , look at me... Do you know how scared I was then? I fantasized about drinking with the Emperor, but in
my father's eyes, I was already so lowly that I wasn't even worthy to carry an officer's shoes! The day he called me back, I was filled with
countless thoughts in the car, and I even thought about jumping off to end my life... But I... I didn't dare! I didn't dare! I didn't dare!
I didn't dare! I didn't dare!" Brother Lian became increasingly frantic and oblivious, his bloodied face filled with despair, his hands gesturing wildly. I vividly
described a tragedy I had never heard of or witnessed before: "Then I thought of you, my dear sister... I love
you, I adore you, I long to embrace you, to kiss you, to share the joys and sorrows of life with you, and finally, to completely possess you.
I love you so much, I gave you the life you dreamed of, and you should repay me, it is only right! You
will surely allow me to exchange this letter for a kidnapping notice, you will surely hold my hand and write these words: 'With Mei in my
hands , tell all the villagers that only the mighty officer Amamiya Ren can keep her safe. Any attempt to notify
others will result in her being torn to pieces, dying without a complete corpse.' You will surely lie obediently on top of me and
whisper in my ear, 'My hero!' Say it, Mei, tell me quickly! Say I am a hero!"
He lunged at me like a ravenous hyena, tearing at my pantyhose. "You madman!
Get away ! My father will call the police!" I gripped a statue and hurled it at his temple, but his reaction
was faster than I expected. In an instant, he disarmed me and knocked me to the ground.
"You and I both know what kind of person your father is, right? He wouldn't do that. He would only obediently follow my
orders and persuade my father to weave my own glory! As for you..." The devil wrapped a thick rope around
my wrists again and again, dragging me to an empty room and tying me to the headboard. I became
a fresh fish on a chopping board, at his mercy. "I thought you would love me... Since that's the case, I can only force you to give yourself to me.
After all, blood is thicker than water. Even if you don't love your brother anymore, your brother will still love you! I will teach Mei to do the right thing, and
Mei and I will live a happy life... Mei, do you feel ecstatic?"
He brought his lips close to mine, and I almost fainted from the blood. I screamed in a hoarse voice, "Coward!
A coward for life! Kill me, kill me!"
"No." His face showed the last glimpse of my still-clear expression. "You know, I'm so cowardly that I
wouldn't even dare to kill a chicken."
The Ren Amamiya I knew came back to life at that moment, and then died again.
Life afterward was like hell on earth. I was imprisoned in that pitch-black space, accompanied only by an oil lamp.
Every day I ate the same food so repetitive it drove me mad, and every night I had to entertain the people Ren Amamiya had to fawn over. Compared to the invaded
Chinese, the Japanese, who shared their roots, seemed to be more favored. He climbed the social ladder step by step; perhaps my sacrifice
was just one of his countless methods. Later, fewer and fewer new faces appeared, and I knew I was about to lose
my usefulness . But I didn't want to give up. I wanted to live, to live and return to my father's side, to atone for my deepest regrets.
My hands were bound and numb, but I still had my feet. Despite dragging my violated body, I still retained
a functioning mind.
I wasn't that fragile.
A man named Saburo Kanoshima frequently entered the secret room, and he became my primary target. Unlike
others who lusted after my looks, he preferred intellectual exchanges with me, often talking until the early hours of the morning before resuming
my physical activities, which I had already lost interest in. I placed all my hopes on this man who also enjoyed thinking,
embellishing my miserable experiences to gain his gradual sympathy. When I learned that he secretly considered Ren Amamiya a
formidable rival on the same side, I further promised that I would help him completely destroy Ren Amamiya after our rescue. Believing I had gained
his complete trust, I began to look forward to the day I could escape.
The ending was unexpected. When I finally emerged from that room, battered and bruised, I was greeted by
the lifeless shell of that devil, and Saburo Kanoshima, dual pistols in hand, calm and collected.
"No...you didn't say it would be like this...If we kill him, how will we escape?"
"If I killed him, it would indeed be troublesome...but my assassin has already reached the Okawa Consulate. Bloodshed is inevitable. Amamiya Ren, who rose to power empty-handed, died in an assassination, not under
my gun, Kanoshima Saburo 's. "How can you be sure the assassin won't betray us after the deed is done?" "Before that time, he'll be taken care of too." "A clumsy lie won't escape people's eyes." "But it can escape the state. Kanoshima Saburo won't kill Amamiya Ren, even if it's a distorted fact, the superiors will wholeheartedly agree. You're still too naive." Kanoshima threatened me with the charge of participating in the murder, forcing me to leave with him. I somewhat regretted not seeing through his cunning, forgetting that I wasn't the only one wearing a mask, so I had no choice but to pretend to agree. After a series of unsuccessful escape attempts, I finally seized an opportunity at the Sanjiangkou Station and plunged into the crowd. When the bright sunlight replaced the dim oil lamp, I finally tasted true freedom. But I didn't have time to let my guard down—the cunning Deer Island wouldn't give up. As one of the few who knew the truth , I was likely to be silenced. The worst-case scenario was a complete lockdown of the city, with every street and alley searched. Before attempting to return home, I would have to remain in this ravaged continent for who knows how long, waiting for the right opportunity. And I was willing to wait. This was to atone for the girl who ate the plum candy. That's all. I was indeed naive. I only knew that the elusive Mei wasn't a party member, but I never imagined she was a complete fabrication. So at the station, not only Qian Manguan, but even Gu Qiaochu was deceived by the false information Deer Island had laid out long ago. But why choose to frame the Communists…? Would intensifying the underground situation at Sanjiang Estuary benefit him in any way? Wait, it would. I suddenly remembered my conversation with Teng Yan in the dungeon. Gu Qiaochu tested me with Teng Yan's resilience; that was quite impressive. And what about Deer Island? Spreading the news that Communist agents had infiltrated Sanjiangkou would inevitably prompt underground Party workers to quickly contact the organization to confirm Mei's identity. This would allow for a surprise attack through surveillance and tracking. He actually devised this scheme. Brilliant, truly brilliant. I should have fallen for it. Teng Yan saved me that time out of personal motives, but what about this time? The Special Branch searched my residence on suspicion of me possessing drugs, but failed to find the communications they wanted. That's because I hadn't had time to send them. Something went wrong on the way. Haha, it was Qian Manguan's hasty shot that saved me. The reason Lu Zhidao has lingered in Sanjiangkou for so long, unwilling to rise in rank, is to hide his unspeakable secret . However, all of this will eventually come to an end. "So, did you find... the right time?" "Yes. I found it." She smiled like an angel, as if she had forgotten what I had done last night. "At the border outside the city, there are several cars heading to the consulate, but for some reason, even they can't pass . However, I overheard some of their conversation. On New Year's Eve, the whole city will be unrestricted. That's the opportunity I've been waiting for." " Why... can you still smile..." I had an urge to hug her. "Because, compared to the days I was imprisoned, life now is great, great!" Mei's account of that experience was rough and vague. With my level of understanding, I probably couldn't comprehend the endless darkness she endured. Compared to her, what is my situation? I rushed forward and hugged her tightly, my arms comforting her. My gaze drifted to my affected self, and I said heavily , "I'm sorry." "It's okay." She still smiled brightly. Fortunately, Yu Tong hadn't been careful when renting the house and hadn't noticed Mei sleeping soundly in the storage room. Her whereabouts remained a mystery to outsiders. I was determined to protect her until she safely returned to Japan at the end of the year— not only because the organization had explicitly ordered me to stop working, but also because of the sympathy, pity, and . I had always been reluctant to confront this matter, but after living together peacefully for more than half a month, some inexplicable changes forced me to reveal my true feelings. "Sister Bai Mei, you...you're hiding something from me?" One day in late November, near dusk, on our way back to our lodging from the rice and flour shop, she suddenly blurted out these words. Her hands had been bound for too long and were probably crippled, making it very difficult for her to carry the large bag of flour; while I, due to my shoulder injury, hadn't fully recovered and could only use one hand. Along the way, carrying the same bag of flour with her, her fingers had never felt so cold and stiff. I looked at her in surprise, catching a glimpse of fear flash across her pure, innocent eyes. "Mei, what are you saying? How could I…" I vaguely sensed several pairs of eyes watching us, but I had no time to pay attention. "Sister Bai Mei!" She released her grip in a huff, and before I could react, the entire bag of flour fell straight to the ground. Its plump, white belly was slashed open by a sharp pebble, leaving a deep, ravine-like gash, and suddenly the area in front of it was stained with the color of snowflakes. "I really wanted to believe you. You were willing to take me in and protect me from being investigated; I will always remember that. But why did you write to the consulate?"

These words struck me like a thunderbolt. My story to Mei had always been that I worked as a freelance writer, providing news and information to
various newspapers to make a living, deliberately concealing the fact that I worked for Kanoshima. Firstly,
to dispel her suspicions and reassure her that I was under her protection; secondly, I didn't want this pacifist
girl to scornfully accuse me of betraying my country, yet I absolutely couldn't reveal my clandestine identity, hence
this tactic. I thought I had concealed it thoroughly enough, but the truth couldn't be hidden forever…
"Mei, you have to believe me, I did this to keep you from worrying… I swear, I
truly want to help you!" I reached out to take her hand, but was ruthlessly pushed to the ground.
"Liar... big liar! That day... you scratched me so hard, was it for my own good? I should
have seen through you long ago, you're a heartless person... You must have already reported my movements to him, hoping to send someone to arrest
me! Too bad I've already seen through you! Run now, lest I change my mind and kill you too!"
With that, Mei angrily darted around the street corner and disappeared.
What... inexplicable...
why did she say that to me...
my heart aches so much. I stood up, my gray hair standing on end, ignoring the laughing faces of the onlookers, like a disheveled dog in the water
, and staggered towards my residence.
Why did I have such intense emotional turmoil over something like this? We'd only known each other for a few weeks,
our embrace actually clashed with national and personal hatred, we would ultimately be strangers separated by a vast ocean. I shouldn't be
like this...
I was about to fall into deeper, chaotic thoughts when something tripped me up.
Reason... stay reasonable. I was so close, I was about to step into the same river again.
Mei should have forgiven me for the tickling and interrogation that night—this naive girl wouldn't
lie to me. Besides, if she truly disliked that kind of behavior, why would she wait until now to bring it up? Bringing it up again now
is so contradictory.
"Killed you too"—thinking about it carefully, isn't that strange? How could someone who needs to hide
dare to openly threaten to harm someone in the street! She's implying…
she's implying I should leave, or I'll be in danger?
She must have sensed the potential danger just now, which is why she improvised and broke off relations with me. This silly girl…
what can she handle with her frail hands?
I quickened my pace. Turning the corner of the alley, I glimpsed Mei being dragged
into the gate of a house by two burly men, their mouths and noses covered. I warned myself that if I kept acting impulsively, it would kill Mei, and surprisingly,
I calmed down considerably.
With a small jar of homemade pepper spray in my left pocket and a tube of super glue in my right, I regretted not bringing any lethal
weapons. With just these things and an unhealed body, subduing them wouldn't be so easy.
Looking through the wall at the inside was incredibly difficult; it took me ages to shift my gaze from the glaring
glass to the blurry figures. The guy who was slinging the struggling Mei's hands up was a bald man; even from a distance,
you could see patches of yellow scabs on his dry scalp—it was truly repulsive. The one standing in the corner was a typical
thug, with one eye oddly shaped, probably blind. They seemed to be talking,
but I was too far away to hear anything.
I pried open a crack in the door and tiptoed inside. Just as I was about to reach further, my
leather boots stomped mercilessly on a pile of gravel, making a loud creak, and a commotion erupted from inside. I
panicked, thinking I'd been discovered, but after a long silence, no one came after me. Peeking through the window,
I saw One-Eye rubbing his dark nose; he'd just covered it with a loud sneeze.
"It's fine if you don't talk, we brothers have plenty of time to waste on you. Come on, let her have some fun!" The bald-headed man
beckoned, and One-Eye pulled over a wooden stool by the door and kicked it away. The sesame oil bottle that had been sitting there
cracked on the ground, and the stool landed squarely at Mei's feet. Before she could even steady herself, the bald-headed man
yanked again, raising the rope binding her wrists a foot and a half high. She had to stand on tiptoe to maintain her
balance .
"Put me down! I told you, I don't know anything!" Mei protested, raising her leg to kick the bald-headed man's
head , but his iron-like hand gripped her ankle, and he grinned as he reached down to touch the fabric between her legs. "
Not bad , not bad, you sweat a lot! I wonder what it tastes like..." The bald-headed man winked
and rubbed his dirty face against Mei's inner thigh, his nostrils flaring as he greedily inhaled her scent.
Mei remained silent, her brows and lips furrowed as she glared at the bald-headed man's wanton actions, but my heart ached as if it
were bleeding. I had experienced such humiliation before, that moonlit night when I couldn't hold my urine...
Vulgar! Vulgar! Vulgar! I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging deep into my palms,
yet I felt no pain, only hatred for my inability to do anything.
The other eye, seeing the bald-headed man's fascination, also became greedy, wandering behind Mei and tearing her blouse, revealing
her slender waist. One eye was incredibly sharp. He reached out his right hand and scratched or clawed at the skin on Mei's side,
but only made empty movements without actually touching the skin. This drew Mei's attention to that area, while he secretly tensed
his left index finger and poked hard at the tender flesh on the other side, making Mei's body tremble and cough incessantly from the tickling. The bald-headed man
reluctantly smacked his lips and lowered his raised leg, roughly pulling off Mei's shoes. Mei was only supporting herself on her toes, so she
couldn't maintain her balance, and the soles of her socks didn't stick to the soles of her shoes at all. The bald-headed man easily took off her cotton shoes,
tossed them aside like trash, and then turned to pull at the toes of her socks. The once dry and clean cloth socks seemed
to become , and slipped loosely off Mei's bare feet. Mei was also stubborn,
clinging to the stool with her ten stubborn toes, as if determined to keep the little socks that protected her purity. Seeing that forcibly pulling
would was
n't annoyed. He gave a commanding whistle, and One-Eye immediately increased the frequency of his finger flicking. The ticklish flesh on Mei's slender waist was manipulated like a puppet, swaying back and forth, while Mei chuckled incessantly, her legs naturally
losing their strength. With her shoes and socks gone, her bare feet, easily grasped by one hand, were no longer separated from the filthy air. Mei naturally blushed with embarrassment,
her cheeks burning red, and she pouted, unwilling to utter another sound.
"You can't not laugh! Laugh, laugh louder, don't spoil our fun!" One-Eye seemed to grow impatient
, putting his foul breath into Mei's armpits and breathing heavily without stopping, even shoving his hand inside her collar.
Mei struggled to free her bound arms, seemingly trying to protect her armpits and chest, but
how could the emotionless ropes grant her such a wish? Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at the hateful noose,
pleading anxiously for her release, but no matter how much she shouted, she couldn't free her hands. One Eye brushed aside her sweat-drenched,
sticky hair, feigning pity, and asked, "Little beauty, we just wanted you to smile and make us brothers laugh, what's there
to cry about?"
"Itchy! Haha, itchy! Let me go, let me go... I really don't know, I really don't know,
waaaah... Stop tickling me, stop tickling me, hahahaha! Waaah, please stop tickling me, I really can't stand it...
" Mei was already breathless from the tickling, letting her overflowing tears stream down her face, pitifully begging One Eye
to let her rest for a moment. A sly smile played on his lips as he agreed, but his hand continued to pinch and toy with her armpit
. Mei, toyed with, cried and laughed, pleading with them to let her go, but always managing to shriek and laugh at the crucial
words . "Not sincere, not sincere! Looks like I'll have to put some of that stuff on you..." The scabby man
wasn't idle either. He'd been digging his nails into Mei's toes, forcing her wrists to endure more pain, and
now he pulled out a bottle of sticky liquid and smeared it all over Mei's tender feet. Mei's
expression instantly turned horrifying. After three layers of the sticky liquid were applied to the soles of her feet, she let out a hoarse
scream , her head drooping lifelessly.
Wait… that liquid… it's so familiar…
that's clearly the potion I secretly concocted to enhance sensitivity on Teng Yanzhi's feet, the one I used to deceive myself into believing!
Applying just a single layer would cause excruciating pain; such an excessive dose could be fatal!
I've already committed an unforgivable sin once; I can't repeat it…
Mei said she didn't like dead people. She must live. She
must.
Unlike my previous recklessness, a surge of passion ignited my fighting spirit. I picked up a pebble and
smashed it against the windowpane. The crisp sound immediately drew the attention of the two thugs. Seizing the opportunity, I
rushed into the room and sprayed pepper spray at the unsuspecting One-Eye.
"Aaaaaah! You crazy woman…" The tall, burly One-Eye covered his face with his hands, roaring and
curling up on the ground, unable to move. I didn't dare to let my guard down. Seeing the furious, scabby-headed man charging towards me, I quickly
pulled out superglue to fight back.
Huh… why is the plug so tight? The scabby-headed man's massive body was already within reach, but I couldn't
open . Before I could react, the shrewish man's massive fist pounded me so hard I felt dizzy .
My legs gave way, and I collapsed to the ground looking like a lion under the influence of tranquilizers—no, not quite right,
more like a rabbit.
"You bitch, how dare you ruin our good time! Who gave you your bear heart leopard...
What stuff? Why is it so sticky?" The shrewish man's bravado hadn't even had a chance to fully display his power when he accidentally stepped
on the superglue he'd wrapped around his shoe, tearing it to pieces. The glue inside instantly took effect, sticking the sole of his shoe firmly to the ground.
This was a blessing from heaven... I clutched my still-aching chest and forced myself to sit up.
In front of the helpless shrewish man, I untied the unconscious Mei. She had never looked so small and pitiful before, collapsing heavily into my
arms .
I'll never let you suffer again! Her dried tear stains broke my heart, but the burns on my feet from the overdose of the medicine
gave me renewed fighting spirit. Forgetting my shoulder injury, forgetting my own weak strength, I gritted my teeth, hoisted Mei onto my back, and
slowly moved outside.
The bald-headed guy, ignoring his immobilized eye, kicked off his shoes and quickly chased after me. Completely oblivious to
the sesame oil spilled on the ground, he slipped and fell flat on
his face. True brothers, one always has to take the blame.
A few fireworks lit up the sky, joyfully soaring towards the unreachable stars.
"Look! Doesn't that firework look like a plum blossom? Just as cute as you… Did you see it?" I
waited for the girl on my shoulder to answer, anything would do. "You can't keep sleeping, you hear me
…"
"Hoo…"
Was that snoring? I turned my head to look.
It must be. I was relieved.
This cute sleeping girl, even drooling on my back would be okay.
The road ahead was all downhill. I ran like my life depended on it, Mei sleeping soundly on my shoulder, and
fireworks burst brilliantly across the sky.
"How beautiful..."
I didn't know who I was talking about; it just slipped out without thinking. When I came to my senses,
my heart was pounding.
Why was I so shy...?
"How beautiful!" I shouted towards the sky, my face flushed, not caring who would hear.
It was later that I learned from Mei that the two thugs were sent by Kanoshima to track her down.
They didn't recognize me, and naturally, I didn't bother confronting Kanoshima. I simply
moved all my essentials to a rented shack after the storm and never returned to the mansion. The only thing that bothered me
was the lack of any sign of surveillance. But what did that mean?
Mei also apologized to me, confessing to secretly reading the letters when I wasn't looking. From the moment I accidentally glimpsed the mailing
address, I had hesitated for a long time, struggling internally, but in the end, I guiltily read them. She naturally didn't understand my
shared feelings of sympathy. Anyone would be
wary . However, despite my understanding, I still unusually criticized her for reading other people's letters without permission.
"Do you know how heartbroken I was after hearing those words? So sincere, and you still doubted me..."
This was, of course, half true and half false. Bai Mei might be weak, but she wasn't so sentimental as to
say those words in a pitiful tone. But Mei was such a simple-minded girl, her heart purer than moonlight. Watching her
anxiously trying to comfort and soothe me, finally holding me so tightly I could barely breathe, I truly...
felt as sweet as if I'd eaten a candied apple! I increasingly felt that my past experiences of being forced to throw myself into someone's arms during my undercover life
had become a thing of the past, no longer troubling me. The girl before me, growing more and more adorable with each passing
year , has completely captivated me ever since she resonated with me so deeply. Whenever I try to focus on something,
her slightly upturned smile appears in my mind. I greatly admire my senior, and I have a deep bond with Yu Tong, but I have never...
I've never experienced such a profound feeling.
Is it love? Does this even count as love? But can a woman falling in love with another woman be allowed? Even if
the world allows it, would Mei be willing to reciprocate my feelings...? I know I shouldn't get too caught up in this emotional whirlpool, but what can I do right now? Anything is fine as long as I can shift my focus! So when Mei conveniently pestered me to teach her how to write Chinese characters, I breathed a sigh of relief. "Sister Bai Mei, how do you write the character for 'love'?" I asked, my voice rising again. "Why...why ask that! For a beginner...this character, there's no need...I mean, how can a beginner directly learn what love is...no, no!" Mei couldn't help but cover her mouth and chuckle when she saw me stammering and unable to utter a coherent sentence. Had my language system malfunctioned? To avoid further embarrassment, I quickly changed the subject . I flipped through my student notes and picked out a few poems about plum blossoms for Mei to copy. "What are those famous lines about plum blossoms, like 'A few plum blossoms in the corner of the wall, blooming alone in the cold'? You have to write them carefully, okay?" Mei couldn't hold the pen tightly, so I gently held her hand to correct her posture. Her hand was a size smaller than mine, and my palm felt warm and comfortable against the back of her hand. "In the eyes of us Chinese, the plum blossom, blooming proudly alone in the harsh winter, symbolizes overflowing talent and noble character, representing the lofty qualities aspired to by countless scholars and gentlemen. Therefore, Mei doesn't need to worry about her name at all; in my heart, it's the most beautiful name." I couldn't control myself, burying my face in the back of her head. Her fragrant hair brushed against my face, leaving me with its lingering scent, allowing me to slowly savor it. "Unlike other flowers, the plum blossom always emits a subtle, hidden fragrance, because few are willing to brave the wind and snow to protect its bloom. Everyone huddles by the window under the warmth of the fireplace to smell its distant fragrance. Those who don't know how to appreciate it will never understand the beauty of the plum blossom..." Mei seemed to have grown tired of listening, putting down her pen and pulling me down onto the small bed, asking seriously, "Sister Bai Mei, do you hate me?" "Why do you say that? I can't even spoil you enough, how could I possibly hate you..." I pressed my cheek against her nose, and when I reached to unbutton her clothes, her little hand blocked my way. So I simply slipped my hand under and circled her slightly protruding pink mound. "Eek... because... because I'm Japanese..." She leaned up to kiss my lips, but I accidentally avoided her, and she immediately frowned and kissed my ear. She pushed my slippers off with her toes, childishly trying to step on my feet, and when I scratched her soles with my toenails a few times, she giggled and curled up her toes. Unable to restrain myself any longer, I reached in with my other hand, teasing her with both hands at once, until she was sweating profusely, her face flushed, and she was panting heavily. "Listen to me, Mei. Listen to me..." Seeing her only able to groan, I squeezed her little flower bud harder. She gasped and snuggled into my arms like a startled animal. "I do hate the Japanese. Any Chinese person with a shred of blood would hate the Japanese! But those shameless aggressors who started the war should be hated, cursed, and torn to pieces , not innocent, peace-loving citizens like you. From now on, and into the distant future, our countries will only be able to look at each other across an unbridgeable chasm. But there will come a day when the bad people will abandon their plundering and invasion, and embrace each other, yearning for a peaceful and happy life, finally reconciling. The world then will be a world full of love, without jealousy, without hatred, without the word 'hate'..." "At that time..." Mei brought her face so close that our breaths seemed to be exchanging air , "At that time, you will say you love me, won't you?" "No need to wait until then... I can say it now, I..." I wanted to kiss her right away, and Mei had already covered her eyes with a little expectation, pouting her glistening lips, looking for my response. But I couldn't bring myself to kiss her. I couldn't even say the words. She was just covering her eyes... Not wanting the atmosphere to become awkward, I could only turn over and tickle her tender feet. "You naughty little sister! Hahaha, you bad boy, you bad boy, stop..." Hearing that laughter, I felt a little uncomfortable. I told her to call me sister, but she refused, so I tickled her even harder, her entire soles were scratched red, until she was almost crying from exhaustion. Exhausted, she fell asleep quickly without much coaxing, but I tossed and turned unable to fall asleep. It wasn't that I was afraid to kiss her. Something I had long forgotten was holding me back... The end of the year. Too many things pointed to the end of the year. The New Year's ceremony, Mei's escape, the restart of the undercover operation, Teng Yan and a group of prisoners parading through the streets, the secret operation of the Military Intelligence Bureau... Ah, and the convoy outside the city, though it's not anything important . The end of the year at Sanjiang Estuary will surely not be peaceful, and perhaps even undergo earth-shattering changes ... Will all my unresolved questions be answered then? What ...? Will we really be able to look forward to the day when we can forget ourselves and shout our love to the sky...? This crucial last month was spent peacefully by Mei and me in our small rented room. I returned to the old house twice to retrieve personal belongings, and both times I returned unscathed. There were no men from Kanoshima tracking us, and no urgent missions were assigned. We gradually returned to normalcy from our initial trepidation. During the day, I would work at the consulate at my desk, mostly just going through the motions, while Mei would occasionally dress plainly and go for walks outside, killing time. In the evenings, we would take turns cooking, preparing hometown delicacies—to call them "delicious" would be a bit shameless, given that our cooking skills were equally . Tickling and playful teasing were also an indispensable nightly pastime, limited to anything less than torture. I used to dread it, but after experiencing it so often, I've become somewhat addicted. Most of the time, it ended with Mei laughing so hard she was doubled over, sweetly begging me to let go. On rare occasions, she caught off guard and I begged for mercy. The happy days passed by, and we tacitly avoided mentioning our approaching separation. The pistol Yu Tong had given me, which I carried with me just in case, might truly never be of any use. My wishful thinking persisted.

On the morning of December 31st, we were unusually calm. There were no long talks, no
bickering ; we endured this exceptionally long day with almost no communication.
"Sister Bai Mei, I want to try some peach shortbread again," Mei said simply as the sun set,
sending to the pastry shop. A few days ago, I bought some pastries, and this little glutton said she didn't care,
but seeing me devour almost everything, she became unhappy and insisted I buy some before leaving
. How I wished I could feed her more! Unfortunately, that opportunity would never come again!
When I got home, the sun had almost completely set, and the narrow stairwell was extremely dark, filled with the musty smell
of an old wooden house. For some reason, my back was covered in cold sweat. I wanted to get back to
Mei's side quickly, but I couldn't lift my feet; I was inexplicably caught in a state of impatience.
As I climbed to the last corner, two blurry figures completely blocked my path. The stairwell
was dark, and I couldn't even make out their features, but the elusive, malevolent
aura emanating from them issued a stark warning—these were no good.
"This time we won't make a mistake again. You'll pay for what you owe last time..."
Before they could fully display their evil, two crisp gunshots rang out, ending their lives. Their skulls
were precisely pierced, and the pungent stench of brain matter mixed with blood splattered everywhere. I looked closely—
one head was covered in scabies, the other missing an eye. Who else could it be but the scabies-ridden man and the one-eyed man?
I felt nauseous, but there were more pressing matters to attend to. I looked in the direction the smoke had come from, and
behind the dark muzzle of the gun, a cold, unrecognizable face—I couldn't recognize it at all.
"Mei...no, you don't know how to use it—ugh!"
A syringe was shoved into my chest, and I felt like the part of my body below my head no longer belonged to me. I
collapsed into a lump of mud, as if my skeleton had been lost. This syringe...it looks so familiar! I'm not unfamiliar with this medicine; I've probably
handled it in the dungeon before. But that was an anesthetic concocted by Gu Qiaochu. How did it end up in Mei's hands...?
The freshly baked peach shortbread shattered into pieces, its crust covered in yellow dirt, the fragrant aroma blurring my
vision. Mei, who should have been packing her bags and waiting patiently for me to come home, was now dressed in a smart leather jacket and black boots, her face
only conveying the word "indifference. "
Correction, not even indifference—it was clearly expressionless.
"I have something I must do...I'm sorry, I have to leave as soon as possible."
She didn't even say "forgive me" before she walked straight past my arm, which was hanging on the ground, and swiftly ran downstairs
.
"Don't go...don't go...Mei!" Watching her figure gradually disappear behind the wall, I shouted desperately
, braying like a pitiful donkey stubbornly struggling in the mud, "I love you!
The feelings that Hakumei has for Amamiya Mei are love! Give me an answer, Mei, please...I don't care where you're going or
what , please give me an answer...how do you really see me..."
What was my mindset when I uttered this blunt confession? I don't know, and I don't want to know. My
pathetic and laughable emotional nature was exposed at this moment—how afraid I was, so afraid that my heart
was clenching—this parting might be forever.
Unfortunately, the sun had long since set, and I couldn't even imagine her turning back to help
me up, looking at her shadow.
She just left like that, without leaving a single word.
As if she had never existed in my heart.
I lay there, half-conscious, for who knows how long, when an irrepressible urge told me I had to get up. So I
scrambled to my feet, then knelt down again, and half-rolled, half-crawled down the stairs.
Though my movements were still sluggish, at least I could think clearly. What time was it? I squinted
at the clock hanging high in the tower, only to see two minute hands.
"Stop messing with me!" I angrily pushed through the bustling crowd, trying to make a
path. They were so noisy! Why did they have to swarm around like ants? Was today some special
day?
"Crazy!" More than one person called me that, but I didn't care.
Where was I going… aimlessly, my mind blank, I was just mechanically pushing people aside,
taking a step forward, and repeating the same action.
Where was I going?!
"White Eyebrows, what a coincidence!" A car drove by, and a face
I hadn't "Who are you?!"
Actually, I wanted to say "Consul Kanoshima," but seeing him in traditional Japanese clothing for the first time, he looked
somewhat unfamiliar. Thanks to him, I finally snapped out of my daze.
"Ahahaha..." Kanoshima chuckled dryly, a flash of anger crossing his brow, before finally settling on
a stiff smile. "Long time no see, you've learned to joke around too! Get in the car, I'll go back to the consulate first
to arrange some work, then I'll take you to Kangping Avenue to see the fireworks, it'll be beautiful!"
I didn't want any fireworks... I wanted Mei, I wanted Mei by my side...
But I remember clearly, my answer was "okay."
I think that's when I started to realize I was showing signs of being half-conscious.
Sitting in the sometimes bumpy car, thinking back and forth, I still couldn't find a reasonable explanation for Mei's unusual behavior
.
However, one thing is certain: Mei lied to me, and more than once. The most obvious lie
was…
the silent witnesses—the two still-warm corpses in the stairwell—provided the answer. I clearly remember
them demanding something from Mei, and her insisting she "didn't know." If they were truly sent by Kanoshima
to track Mei, why bother with all the questioning? Wouldn't it have been easier to just kidnap her? Therefore,
their target wasn't Mei, but…
me? Or rather, something about me that they truly wanted. But why would Kanoshima send
two thugs who didn't even know what I looked like? Otherwise, why would they say, "This time we won't
make a mistake"?
Unable to find a breakthrough on this issue, I had to focus on other things.
What else did Mei lie to me about?
She claimed she couldn't use a gun, yet she just shot and killed two strong men without hesitation.
But the focus wasn't on the gun. She couldn't pull me out of the water, couldn't use chopsticks skillfully, and couldn't carry noodles by herself.
Pink, even her pen couldn't stay steady... How could such a seemingly
fragile perfect accuracy?
Unless, of course, her hand was unharmed, and her imprisonment was all a fabrication. That radiant girl with such strong
will and frail body was just a figment of my imagination.
The person I desperately wanted to protect was actually far stronger and more terrifying than I imagined.
So, did I fall in love with merely a fictional, non-existent personality?
When she heard my foolish thoughts in the stairwell, she must have been wearing a contemptuous smile.
What a failure... such a complete failure...
My cheek pressed against the cold car window, I felt an unusual heat, a
suffocating heat. The people on the street, whether in small groups or alone, all wore expressions
of joy, not bitterness. They were hoping for the New Year, wishing for the New Year, perhaps entrusting all the unpleasantness of the year to the fireworks
to be set aside in the sky. The fiery radiance emanating from them was so dazzling,
it burned my heart with unbearable pain.
Why, why am I the only one who willingly ventured into the snow-covered, biting wind, unable to smell
the fragrance of that flower...?
The car gradually slowed down. I no longer cared about the destination. Just get out of the car and
continue the tedious social engagements...
Let my newly awakened love be buried forever.
Thinking this, I stepped out of the car, and the familiar consulate gate came into view. It had been a while since I'd been here,
and the gatekeepers were different...
Speaking of which, were there too many people today? They all had their hands in their pockets; even in this cold weather
, there was no need...
No... these people were!
I instinctively pulled my foot back into the car, and then slammed the door shut with lightning speed. In those
brief two seconds, I saw sparks fly from several closed doors, a windshield shattered,
blood splattered everywhere, Kanoshima's face contorted in horror, and a guard who collapsed, blood still splattered, unable to draw his gun in time
.
"What happened? What happened?!" Kanoshima, who had just been laughing and making fun of me,
was deathly pale, his lips twitching as he questioned the driver in the front seat. Of course, from his angle, he couldn't see
the bloody bullet hole in the driver's neck.
How could this be… an assassination attempt against Kanoshima actually happened? Could it be that Mei had been lying
the whole time , telling me nothing but falsehoods?
It seems Gu Qiaochu's information was correct; someone did indeed want to kill Kanoshima, but this
person wasn't from my party. Hadn't she repeatedly and openly expressed her contempt for Kanoshima?
It's not impossible that she used this smokescreen to conceal the true nature of the force she represented. Considering her illogical connection with Amamiya Ume
, I can only arrive at a vague conjecture—perhaps, just perhaps, I was mistaken from the start
; Amamiya Ume's mission, which I had cleared myself of suspicion, was indeed to assassinate Kanoshima.
I know there are numerous doubts that could forcefully refute this untenable conjecture, and I know it
has several fatal logical flaws, but I simply cannot convince myself to believe anything else. An almost pathological
obsession emerges amidst the dense gunfire, repeatedly feeding this impossible
answer into my mind, solely to find a sufficient reason to maintain my absurd, deformed, irrational
, and hopeless protection called "love." What I've fallen in love with is clearly just a hypocritical blank sheet of paper,
so easily exposed and punctured, yet I insist on filling it with countless vain fantasies—even though
any insignificant bullet in the tense, heavy air outside could pierce my bones to dust.
How despicable! How can a person live such a despicable life! But the fact that I could feel gratified by such a despicable version of myself
made me realize that Bai Mei's life couldn't be analyzed using common sense. Repeatedly doubting myself, denying
myself , redefining myself, enjoying the reborn self, only to fall into an even deeper web of doubt—this seemed
to be my abnormally nauseating life.
I looked at Kanoshima, huddled in the cramped space under the chair, his astonished expression like that of a
cornered oil-stealing rat.
"Come on, get off the bus quickly, someone wants to harm you." As I said this, I knew perfectly well that I had shed
a layer of skin. ***The underground party member Yanhua covered the escape of the Japanese consul, Kanoshima Saburo—was that laughable? But only
by doing so could I allow the fabricated story of Amamiya Ume, which I had completely come to believe in, to live on.
If I'm not mistaken, Mei is most likely hiding in some dark corner of the consulate. As long as the real target—
Kanoshima Saburo—doesn't show up, the assassins deployed by the consulate will definitely retreat decisively, and Mei
will be safe and sound. What a clever reason!
The fighting outside is intensifying, but the curtain of the final chapter seems to be eager to fall. Although
the assassination team struck first, Kanoshima's guards are still numerous and powerful, and the battlefield is already showing
signs of a one-sided situation.
"Consul, our men can't hold on any longer. If we stay any longer, we'll both be dead!" Seeing that the cowardly Kanoshima
still refused to move, I had to tell a clumsy lie to provoke him to get up.
"After all this is over, I want to have a good talk with you!" Fortunately, he was only concerned with saving his own life and
was completely unaware of the favorable situation outside. He got out of the car with me in a daze and ran at full speed through the blood-stained
streets.
Although Kanoshima was running around in a disheveled state, he wasn't entirely without a brain. He pulled out a gun behind me, pressed it against
the back of my head, and forced me to exchange clothes with him. I didn't take his intimidating coercion seriously at all
—I wasn't afraid of death anymore; I just wanted to maintain my still-holding belief, nothing more.
He was already short and thin, and with my fur coat on and a bucket hat and scarf covering his face, his back view
was indistinguishable from a real woman's. On the contrary, I felt extremely uncomfortable wearing his clothes. When I changed his wooden clogs, the stench made
me want to gag, and the loose belt that I couldn't tighten no matter what gave me a headache. Seeing me dawdling
,
Avenue was not far ahead. Was he planning to use the bustling crowds watching fireworks as cover to make a quick
getaway...?
To be honest, I didn't care at all about his desperate desire to live. As long as Mei
was
that was enough. She didn't have to touch guns; she could play barefoot in the pool, munching on crisp peach shortbread—that would be good enough.
In the corner, there was a simple awning, where a dusty-faced beggar shivered from the cold. Had
we met?
I looked into his cloudy eyes, but saw a vivid image—that naive,
hot-blooded fool, the fool who thought others were foolish, the one who cried while reassuring himself not to be afraid. That was
how I used to be.
But his gaze seemed to pass over my shoulder. I suddenly felt an itch in my abdomen, and looking down, I saw
a red embroidered flower on my ill-fitting kimono. At least it wasn't a bullet to my shoulder…
I lay prone on the ground, feeling the muddy shoes trampling my face. The man's stubble had thickened,
his face had become thinner, and his dark skin was now sallow. I'll never forget who he was.
"You think you can escape? You think you can really bring me down? Keep dreaming!" For
the first time, I felt his laughter was so arrogant, as if he'd been imprisoned in a dark, damp cage for centuries and suddenly received
a glimmer of light, mocking everything with unbridled pride. He kept poking my forehead with the tip of his shoe,
and the world before me suddenly became vibrant.
"Those two thugs…you sent them, didn't you?" Seeing his smugness, a sudden realization dawned on me. This
explained why when I later returned to the mansion to retrieve my belongings, there was no one guarding it—Qian Manguan, demoted
to a handyman, had no authority to make such arrangements!
"Not bad! You ran fast, but everything I wanted was completely left in the house! My men
found it in no time—your secret letters with the party organization you're loyal to, and your
so-called senior, tsk tsk tsk… I've got you covered, haven't I? You think you can pull off tricks?
You think you can? You've got money to back you up!"
He grabbed my collar and pounded my cheeks hard. From the initial pain to losing consciousness, it was just a few dozen frames of his
punches . I was spitting out saliva and blood, with two broken teeth mixed in, but all I wanted
was for him to end my life quickly.
"Want to die easily? No way! Kanoshima was supposed to be the one to torture you,
but who would have thought a mere assassination attempt would scare him so badly he'd wet himself, leaving me, his loyal subordinate, to
clean up his mess !"
Sure enough, I never saw through Kanoshima Saburo in the end. He was planning to use the fireworks as an excuse to drag me back to the dungeon
…
“What a self-aggrandizing act! If it weren’t for your two useless henchmen being so troublesome, how could
Deer Island, or even a lowly dog like you, have the chance to cause trouble!”
Qian Manguan was surprisingly not fooled. “Trying to provoke me? You’re too green, too green!
What do you think I deliberately didn’t shoot your groin for? You won’t die a quick and painless death until I’ve had my fill!”
He was about to pull off my hard boots when he heard a lone gunshot from not far ahead, completely out of place with the battle drawing to a
close . So he quickly slipped into the awning,
kicked the trembling beggar aside, and held his breath to observe the situation.
I opened my eyes with some difficulty and saw an old scar prominently displayed on the face of the distraught newcomer.
"Yu Tong... Yu Tong..."
"Wrong... I killed the wrong person..." Before he could even murmur a few words, Qian Manguan, hiding in the shadows
, shot him in the back. He collapsed before me, still looking apologetic. We stared at each other, the once
unbridgeable distance shrinking to almost nothing. I finally had a chance to understand him.
He cried like a child, but I remained expressionless—if I couldn't even keep the simple vow to stop crying
, then I truly had no reason to exist. As long as my soul still clung to the earth,
I wanted to hold on to something.
Strangely, Qian Manguan was completely lifeless. Seeing him kneeling on the ground, with
nothing changed except for a sharp blade stuck in his heart, I knew he was dead too.
The beggar, who had played the role of an ant the entire time, limped to his feet and walked towards us.
"The Party and the State never welcome two-faced people," the beggar said to Zhong Yu Tong, who could only gasp
for trembling.
"I admire your selfless courage back then, so I won't interfere in your life or death this time. However, I
advise you not to try to report the whole story to your superiors; they no longer believe you."
"Who...who are you? Don't keep me in the dark...please, tell me..."
"If you call me Mei, I have no problem with it. After all, the Japanese consul in ōkawa, Amamiya Ren, died
at my hands."
With that, he strode away, still wrapped in his tattered clothes.
Ahhhhhh...
countless possibilities.
Ahhhhhhh...
countless clues, every possible hint.
Ahhhhhhh...
the only truth I don't want to face.
I screamed madly, like a pitiful, trapped beast struggling in its death throes. I'm going completely insane! " I'm going mad
...
Yu Tong, tell me everything you know! Everything, tell me everything, leave nothing out!"
In my final moments before deciding to shoot myself, the last vestige of reason I still possessed, belonging to Bai Mei, craved a
buried truth.
He snorted, as if tacitly agreeing.
I listened to Yu Tong's trembling, indistinct words, piecing together the reality I desired.
In the late autumn arrest operation, the Special Service Section made two major gains. One was Teng Yan, a Communist underground party member codenamed Ye,
who was betrayed by a member of the Communist Party and secretly arrested at the train station on her way home; the other was a
high-ranking Kuomintang (KMT) leader codenamed Ji Niao, who possessed intelligence on multiple domestic and international networks and had always been a thorn in the side of the Japanese. He was captured during a special operation while protecting his Nationalist comrades. Now, thinking back, Ji Niao was one of the prisoners I met
on the first night I entered the dungeon . The KMT high command held several meetings, engaging in heated discussions about whether to rescue Ji Niao. Some believe that the captured bird held a crucial position, and its sacrifice would be an irreparable loss to the National Revolutionary Army; others believe that any form of armed rescue would inevitably anger the Japanese, who insisted on a pseudo-peaceful development, thereby threatening all the residents of Sanjiangkou.

The potential for turmoil to protect lives, coupled with the incalculable casualties from breaching the heavily guarded consulate,
was a valid and unavoidable concern. This concern
stemmed from lessons learned . The Kuomintang (KMT) had paid a heavy price to rescue several high-ranking officials trapped in the Great River.
Fortunately, the mediation of an unknown figure (who, in my opinion, was likely Kanoshima, but I fear I'll never have the chance to ascertain the nature of the conflict between the two
consuls that led them to desire the other's death)
prevented further conflict.
Supporters of both viewpoints argued fiercely, but ultimately compromised on a middle ground—sending an undercover
agent to infiltrate the consulate and launch an operation during the New Year period when defenses were weakened, thus rescuing the trapped consuls from within.
However, several prerequisites were necessary for the perfect execution of this plan.
First, the undercover agent's infiltration must have a compelling reason. Just as Kanoshima was eager
to extract , the Military Intelligence Bureau assigned Gu Qiaochu, codenamed Chi Yu, who had long been undercover in the Wang Jingwei regime, to act
as the interrogator. Her outstanding abilities earned her Wang Jingwei's favor, and she quickly and legitimately entered the dungeon.
Secondly, the goal was to weaken the consulate's defenses as much as possible. The rescue team was divided into two groups: one
responsible for direct combat to draw fire and buy time, while the other was to race against time to destroy the walls separating the dungeon from the outside world.
Neither team could be large-scale; they had to be concise and efficient, which imposed strict requirements on
the strength . The New Year's Eve party would indeed weaken the defenses to some extent, but it was far from enough.
Everyone racked their brains and finally devised the most ingenious part of the entire plan.
Exaggerating the previous armed action at the Okawa consulate as a one-sided operation by Kuomintang agents against Amamiya Ren
was their biggest gamble. Firstly, many of Deer Island's capable assistants would become complacent and neglect
their duties due to self-preservation, unknowingly falling victim to their scheme. Secondly, the Military Intelligence Bureau
's anti-traitor squad could seize the opportunity to launch a joint operation and annihilate the notorious traitors who had sided with Deer Island. Thirdly, this was also a small
part , possessing unspoken political significance.
Killing three birds with one stone, everything proceeded smoothly according to plan. They won their gamble.
But from the very beginning, an unnecessary, even obstructive, pawn was added—that was me,
the Kuomintang underground party member codenamed Fireworks, White Eyebrow.
The farce on Kangping Avenue that day was both accidental and not accidental. According to the original plan, the disguised
"beggar" would actively attract the attention of the Special Affairs Section, giving Gu Qiaochu enough time to hide, and then
the members of the long-ambushed anti-traitor squad would swarm out and launch a brilliant blitzkrieg. But in reality, the anti-traitor
squad was first thrown off balance by my actions, and then decided to retreat due to the inexplicable gunfire. And so, I
unwittingly allowed the Military Intelligence Bureau to launch a disastrous attack.
Yu Tong's appearance during Qian Manguan's night raid was no coincidence. Bai Mei, a top-tier traitor, was naturally
on the assassination squad's list, and Yu Tong was sent to eliminate me. Due to his special feelings for me, he
hesitated repeatedly, but my inadvertent revelation that I knew about the Military Intelligence Bureau's movements ignited his murderous intent.
If nothing unexpected had happened, I would have been shot dead that night, but that hidden shot saved my life.
From then on, the assassination squad was convinced that a secret force was constantly monitoring their actions, so they temporarily
abandoned their plan to eliminate me and instead tried to plant an informant near me to find this protector. Coincidentally,
Gu Qiaochu, who had infiltrated the consulate, fooled everyone but was suspected by Kanoshima and placed under house arrest. She could only
relay messages through my work, which required a close confidante.
At this time, a rookie Kuomintang agent codenamed "Flower" volunteered to play this arduous role.
Thus, she appeared in my life as Amamiya Ume, moving me with her pitiful and tragic past,
softening me with her harmless appearance, and gradually gaining my absolute trust. With her superb acting skills and
the unintentional assistance of two thugs, she won my heart, maintaining an airtight connection between Gu Qiaochu and the Kuomintang. I was intoxicated
by what I thought was true love, unknowingly becoming a tool in the rescue plan.
This explains it. Ume's frequent outings during the last month weren't for walks, but for delivering intelligence.
When I first touched Kanoshima's feet, I vaguely sensed something was wrong—having followed tradition since childhood, she must have worn
wooden clogs , but why was the width of her toes so noticeably different from that of a typical Japanese person? I should
admit it, she was Chinese, a genuine Kuomintang agent.
My love was so frivolous. My love was like a child's game. My love is only meant to live in the richness of imagination, not
in the harsh reality.
In these brief few months, I experienced a love unlike any I've ever felt before, and one I'll likely never experience again—
the kind of love people often talk about, unforgettable. Actually, whether this feeling even qualifies as "love" is debatable,
isn't it? But who has the time to consider my life?
Yu Tong also confessed, "I truly love you." But when I noticed the bullet hole in Kanoshima's back
, I simply couldn't believe it.
"You know I'm not a real traitor, yet you still attacked me..."
"It's precisely because you're not a traitor that I had to kill you... It's all part of the mission... a mission... Old Wolf betrayed
the organization, but Zhong Yutong didn't betray Bai Mei!" In his dying moments, he tried to reach out and touch my hair, but his arm felt like it
was falling apart and he couldn't lift it. "Why do you think I chose this path... If I wanted
to be , I couldn't escape that man's shadow! The senior you speak of is always upright and honorable, always
worthy of admiration, but I'm always inferior to him... It's not fair, it's not fair!"
"Fool! I've never compared the two of you... It's your vanity that's causing this, you've
ruined yourself..." I couldn't control the stinging in my nose and forcefully grabbed his hand, placing it on my head. This warmth,
I miss it so much... I miss it so much...
Zhong Yutong still breathed his last.
Deathly silence, deathly silence surrounded me.
This story is over, everyone has taken their final bow, it's my turn now.
For a fleeting moment, I felt like that newbie Party member, just finished asking a senior for
advice , and then Yu Tong tugged at my sleeve to fly a kite. Their smiles were composed; mine were innocent and naive.
And for another fleeting moment, I felt like that young reporter just starting her undercover work. Short...
Kanoshima smiled at me, and the withered Qian Manguan smiled at me. These two smiles overlapped in some ways, yet each carried
its own unique meaning, and I could only offer a fawning, insincere smile in return.
Then there was that lingering moment—yes, a lingering moment, fleeting yet seemingly
spanning a millennium—when I saw Mei laughing at my ticklish ears. Really, aren't your tender little buds even more sensitive!
I wanted to tickle her soles, but instead grabbed a handful of withered, broken petals, only then realizing that her entire body was covered in
flowers I'd only glimpsed in a dream. Flowers peeked from her mouth and nose, from her private parts, swarming
from every pore of her once beautiful, smooth skin, each dripping with chilling blood.
Her entire being was obscured by the dense, withered flowers, a strange and peculiar beauty arose within me, yet I couldn't
articulate the beauty of this work of art; instead, I felt a strange, unsettling tremor in my heart.
It was as if that indescribable beauty required a price as high as life itself to appear, yet
I was so nauseated that I willingly declared it ugly.
I felt it was about time, so I emptied my mind and, with my last strength, used my fingers to pull
the pistol fixed to the top of my sock.
To solemnly end a life filled with regrets, isn't that also a kind of fulfillment? I say this
because I feel some tiny details are still being overlooked, but I also feel that not delving into them is best.
Calmly, I pulled the trigger, welcoming the baptism of bullets…
but nothing happened. I fired three more shots, still nothing.
So the gun wasn't loaded…
I felt Zhong Yutong had left me with a lifelong mystery—I was certain he loved me, but
did he truly love me, or did he not love me as much as he claimed?
At the same time, I realized I might not really die. A deafening
explosion Through the stone wall, I could only vaguely see the rising flames and plumes of gray smoke.
The New Year's bells rang as scheduled, and the fireworks, rehearsed earlier, soared into the sky once more. Although my vision gradually
blurred , I stubbornly searched, but ultimately couldn't find the plum blossom-shaped fireworks.
This year was destined to be special, because everyone's way of celebrating changed from "Happy New Year" to "Something's happened
!" It seemed the latter resonated more deeply with people.
When I first opened my eyes, I thought I had arrived in heaven, but in reality, it was just a hospital bed.
"Are you awake? Here, have some porridge."
How long had it been since I heard that incredibly reassuring voice? I opened my mouth to let the spoon in, but couldn't
taste anything special.
"So bland." I had never been so indifferent to him before, only now that every word I spoke
brought a tearing pain in my abdomen.
"It's just plain porridge, what flavor could it possibly have?" The senior shrugged helplessly, carefully placing the white porcelain bowl
back on the table. I noticed a file folder and a newspaper neatly arranged on the table.
I wasn't sure if the newspaper was new or not; after all, yesterday's and today's newspapers, if the dates were covered, looked like the same newspaper.
I thought the senior would reach for the file folder, but he casually picked up the newspaper and began reading it with relish. The newspaper
was actually covering a medical record, which read "severe concussion" and so on. I didn't see it clearly, and the senior didn't
even glance at it.
"Is there... anything wrong with my brain?"
"No," he answered decisively. "Even if there is, it's the organization that thinks so."
It seemed that the "beggar" wasn't bluffing; the so-called truth I knew had touched a nerve with the party's top brass,
and being criticized as heresy was inevitable. Fortunately, there was still a character who would never doubt me and still
had a role to play .
"I guess you'll be interested in this news." My senior colleague stared at the headline, reading with great interest. "A massacre on
New Year's Eve, another spring of heartbreaking farewells... The kind and benevolent Consul Saburo Kanoshima, who cared deeply for peace, was tragically
assassinated in the street. This unbelievable news spread... The thugs who attacked the consulate at night were
all wiped out by the brave guards, and the remaining comrades fled in cars..."
The story I knew so well had been distorted beyond recognition. Did the Japanese not know the truth? Did the National Revolutionary Army not
know what they had done? Did our Party intend to turn a blind eye? I believe
the answer is no, but why did it end this way? What intricate and perplexing deals and schemes lay behind this?
I simply cannot understand it now. Not just now, even after
countless years, I wouldn't dare say I fully understand...
I only know that there must be someone like Saburo Amamiya from Oe watching all this, and maybe even Ren Kanoshima from Mikawaguchi
... Tigers, dogs, and even rats, acting in the same way as the traitorous old wolf, must still be wearing
realistic masks, talking loudly at meetings...
I dare not think about it.
I noticed a small section on the back of the newspaper with a short headline: Salt Merchant Teng Loses
Beloved Daughter . I doubted I was seeing things and asked my senior to read it again. Even reading it backwards or out of order, I couldn't pronounce the words:
Salt Merchant Teng Loses Beloved Daughter.
"Teng Yan... sacrificed herself?" I was somewhat incredulous.
My senior neither confirmed nor denied it, but simply handed me the file folder. I nervously opened it and
found an envelope, several photos, and a crumpled piece of paper covered in scribbles.
First, I looked at the envelope. Opening it, a note fluttered out, neatly written in small, elegant characters: "
Reporting to the organization, Ye has successfully escaped."
"Not many people have read this letter yet; I made an exception and brought it out. To be honest, I can't tell if
the contents are real or fake, but the handwriting is exactly the same as Comrade Teng Yan's. But if she is indeed still alive,
then who died in the consulate ruins?"
I nervously swallowed, carefully examining the photos, not missing a single
detail. I didn't know why I cared so much; what I was about to find might overturn my
understanding …
I found it. The woman in the photo seemed to be fast asleep. I recognized the tattered clothes she wore—
the same ones that accompanied Teng Yan. But there was something different; I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I hadn't really looked closely at Teng
Yan's face, so I was certain this was her. But the more I looked, the more she resembled someone else…
Where were her eyebrows?
Good heavens… I've never thought Mei and Teng Yan looked so alike! But now it makes sense—
when I saw Teng Yan, her eyes and eyebrows were almost always covered; when I saw Mei, her eyebrows had never grown. Once their eyes are covered,
they could completely replace each other in the mirror!
That's why, when Mei covered her eyes, I couldn't bring myself to kiss her for no reason. They were so alike, she
looked exactly like Teng Yan, blindfolded and suffering torture,
the poor Teng Yan with the medicine I concocted smeared on the soles of her feet—how could I have the face to offer such a filthy kiss!
"My youngest sister studied abroad." Did Teng Yan say something like that? Did she? I should have expected it
, how could I not have noticed…
So it's not surprising that Mei speaks Japanese, nor is it surprising that she can speak fluent Japanese-accented Chinese.
What did the newspaper say? I pressed the small print close to my eyes and read this sentence:
"The deceased's sister, Teng Qing, is still traveling abroad and is unaware of the situation…" What utter
bullshit… It wasn't Teng Yan who died, it was Teng Qing. Teng Qing was her own sister's scapegoat!
That's why she refused to call me "sister"... Yes, Teng Yan and I are worlds apart,
what right do I have to be her sister...
But what's the reason? What's the reason for doing this? What is this unavoidable reason for her to die?
Let me think about it. The Kuomintang's rescue target is a caged bird; there's no need to rescue Teng Yan as well.
Even if Teng Qing begs, Gu Qiaochu will at least not agree to rescue a member of another party. What's next? Teng Yan
will still be imprisoned. And what awaits her...?
"But Kanoshima has his own plans. He intends to parade Teng Yan through the streets at the beginning of the new year, forcing her to
confess her communist identity." Gu Qiaochu once said this.
Kanoshima's death was an accident, a tragedy caused by him willingly exchanging clothes with me. In the original plan,
Kanoshima's fate wasn't even mentioned. In that case, Kanoshima, who survived, would certainly not be greedy for money
; finding ways to vent his anger is a slightly better option. So Teng Yan would weakly confess, "I am a Communist,"
and die, leading to a devastating end for the Teng family…
That was the reason. The deceased had to die as Teng Yan, but
who could know for sure if the deceased was actually Teng Yan?
The two sisters had only just reunited, and now they had to put on an act again. Unfortunately, this act was too precious; they could only perform it so vividly throughout
their lives .
I think I know who fired that gunshot that was secretly protecting me. Teng Qing had been watching me from the beginning.
She needed to use my access to all the affairs of the consulate to find out if my sister was alive, what her condition was,
and even which cell she was imprisoned in. She probably saw my fatal weakness and recognized
the possibility , which is why she repeatedly saved my life and gained opportunities to contact me. Those
vivid, sweet, and lovely performances in front of me were not only for work, but also to save her dearest loved ones.
She not only wanted to protect her sister, but also her happy family. To ensure the continuation of family ties, she
willingly sacrificed her vibrant life.
Without hesitation. Without a second thought.
But while she fired bullets at the bald-headed man and the one-eyed man, she used an anesthetic on me. I was also
a target of the assassination squad, so why did she spare my life?
Suddenly, something dawned on me, and I frantically examined the piece of paper whose contents were barely legible. Qian
Manguan, Bai Mei, Liu Xintong… No doubt, this was the assassination list of the assassination squad, and we traitors and lackeys
were all on it. Only my name was tattered and torn… What words were written on it?
I looked at it horizontally, vertically, upside down; it seemed as if a single word was covering layer upon layer, the paper
almost soaked in ink. My mouth slightly opened, my tongue flattened, and with just a slight vibration of my vocal cords, that beautiful,
fantastical , intriguing word escaped my lips. It lacked the majestic grandeur of towering peaks, yet surpassed the hopeful
dawn.
That thing I thought I had quietly drifted away from, yet inadvertently regained—
love.
It turns out she had already secretly left the answer.
I felt as if I had traveled back to that New Year's Eve filled with the incessant gunfire, excitedly watching the consulate walls
collapse , then rushing into the dungeon with the rescue team. In that deepest cell, the younger sister
quickly stripped off her exhausted older sister's clothes, calmly collapsing into a pool of blood.
Tears blurred her vision; she must have been terrified, facing the coldness and helplessness of death. She had to say something
to comfort herself, but what could she say?
Would she remember the traitorous young woman who genuinely tried to make her happy, who played with her? If she did,
she would surely tremble and silently whisper, "I love you."
I love you too. I have so many cheesy, blush-inducing words I want to say, but none more fitting than this.
But I can't say them.
Because I love Amamiya Mei in the story, not Teng Qing, who sacrificed herself for her country, her party, and her family.
It wasn't that I didn't want to, but that I didn't deserve it.
I lay in the hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, dry heaving. I vomited so hysterically, so inconsiderately,
so indecently.
My senior just sat silently watching me, I don't know if he understood me.
He probably didn't—it was an equivalent substitution for tears.
When it was almost time to be discharged, my senior helped me to the courtyard to admire the plum blossoms.
The plum blossoms on the branches were in full bloom, but I always felt something was missing.
"These flowers are carefully cared for every day, no wonder they don't bloom with that kind of charm,"
my senior said, he was right. The plum blossoms here lacked that proud spirit, their posture could rival even wildflowers,
where was that refined beauty?
We walked out of the courtyard gate disappointed and went to the park. Snow was falling heavily, few people came here for a walk
. We stood in the snow that was above our boots, looking at the treetops covered by a thick layer of snow.
"I can only smell the cold wind," my senior said with a worried look.
I don't know why I started talking about plum blossoms. The longer time has passed,
the deeper .
Amamiya Ume. Amamiya Ume. Amamiya Ume…
Sparse shadows cast shadows, a subtle fragrance wafts through the air. Holding it in my mouth and savoring it, it leaves a lingering fragrance on my palate.
"No, it smells nice, very pleasant."
"It doesn't…" My senior smiled indulgently, but seeing my serious expression, he fell silent.
"Of course not, because..." My eyes darted around, and I came up with a satisfactory answer,
"Because it's a 'subtle' fragrance, of course it has to be subtle."
We smiled at each other, but whether these two smiles were the same was another way of writing, we couldn't say.
Subtle Fragrance · end
Author: Turtle

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