Chapter 25: Drawing Closer

Ning Zhiheng instructed Wang Shucheng to take the team ahead to review the household registration records, while he himself drove to the small restaurant where he had met Liu Datong at noon the previous day.

This was their agreed meeting place, and before long, Liu Datong hurriedly arrived as well. Ning Zhiheng handed him the document bag.

“Distribute these photos among your men and cast the net wide. Tell them that whoever finds this Wang Yunfeng first will receive a generous reward,” Ning Zhiheng said.

Liu Datong greatly admired his superior’s decisiveness and generosity. Just yesterday, he had given out two hundred francs, and today he was offering a hefty bounty once again.

“Don’t worry, sir. If Wang Yunfeng has ever shown his face on Beihua Street, I will make sure he’s found,” Liu Datong promised, patting his chest.

“Have Chen Yanqing check the household records as soon as possible, but I suspect Wang Yunfeng doesn’t live nearby. No matter how cautious he is, if he resided here, someone would have recognized him. Every time he comes to Beihua Street, the distance must not be short. His financial situation seems good, so he probably doesn’t walk all the way. If he drives, it would draw too much attention—there aren’t that many people with cars in Jinling. He might not own one. I reckon he’s taken a rickshaw at least a few times—it saves effort and reduces the chance of running into acquaintances. Focus your search along these lines. Don’t overlook any information. And as always, be quick!”

Ning Zhiheng recalled how Ryota Yanagi had been exposed thanks to a rickshaw puller who provided a critical clue, leading to a stakeout and his eventual capture. He realized he had previously underestimated the importance of rickshaw pullers, who, much like taxi drivers in a later era, constantly moved through the city and interacted with far more people and information than most. If informants could be placed among them, it would make a valuable channel for intelligence gathering. Ultimately, this task would fall to Liu Datong, who surely had his own methods.

“I’ll be busy today, combing through the household records—it’s like searching for a needle in a haystack, and the workload is enormous. Time is tight, so you must act swiftly. It’s nine in the morning now. I’ll meet you here again at six this evening for your progress report,” Ning Zhiheng instructed carefully.

Liu Datong nodded in agreement and hurried off. He had to get things organized quickly—one day passes in a blink, and he hoped to bring good news to Chief Ning by six.

The day was tense and exhausting. Ning Zhiheng and Wang Shucheng, along with their team, spent the entire day reviewing a mountain of files, screening records from two police sub-districts. They selected over twenty suspects whose photographs bore a resemblance to their target.

Ning Zhiheng noticed that photographs on the documents of this era were of poor quality—many were blurry and indistinct, making the screening slow and difficult. At this rate, it would take at least a week to review all the household records in Jinling, and the list of suspects would likely exceed a hundred, each requiring further investigation and elimination. The sheer scale of the task far exceeded his expectations.

Seeing that it was almost six o’clock, Ning Zhiheng said to Wang Shucheng, “Let’s stop here for today. Compile the files on these twenty-four suspects, and tomorrow bring Liu Molin to identify them. We’ll eliminate these candidates first before moving on.”

After a full day of intense work, everyone was exhausted, their necks and hands stiff from the effort. Hearing that the day’s work was over, they breathed a sigh of relief, finished up, and left one after another.

On his way back, Ning Zhiheng made a point to check on the situation at the rented house at No. 402 Beihua Street.

Shi Hong had his men disguised and posted at every key location. He was highly experienced in such operations, managing the setup with flawless precision and leaving almost no gaps. It was certain that if Wang Yunfeng showed up here, he would have no chance of escape.

Seeing Ning Zhiheng arrive in haste, Shi Hong asked, “How did the record checks go? Any leads?”

Ning Zhiheng shook his head helplessly. “The workload is enormous. We’ve found some suspicious individuals, and tomorrow we’ll have Liu Molin try to identify them. With some luck, things will get easier. How are things on your end?”

“No unusual activity. In my experience, cases like this take at least ten days or half a month to see results. Don’t push yourself too hard,” Shi Hong said comfortingly.

Shi Hong was the more seasoned investigator, with greater patience. Although it was like searching for a needle in a haystack, their investigative direction was sound—capturing Wang Yunfeng was only a matter of time.

“My worry is that, if we take too long, something might change. If Wang Yunfeng gets spooked and flees, it would be a great loss,” Ning Zhiheng said anxiously.

It had already been seven days since Fu Cheng’s arrest, and there was a four-day gap before Ning Zhiheng found No. 402 Beihua Street. If the mole Wang Yunfeng had sent information during those four days and left a signal at the dead drop, but no one came to collect it, he might be alerted and either go into deeper hiding or escape altogether. They absolutely couldn’t give him time to react.

Shi Hong fell silent. The possibility was all too real—at this point, they were relying on luck.

After leaving, Ning Zhiheng hurried to the small restaurant to meet Liu Datong. To his delight, Liu Datong was already waiting at the entrance, and judging by his cheerful expression, there was good news.

“Chief Ning, we have a lead. We followed your instructions and questioned all the rickshaw pullers on Beihua Street. Someone recognized Wang Yunfeng almost immediately,” Liu Datong reported enthusiastically as soon as they met.

“And where is this rickshaw puller?” Ning Zhiheng pressed, wanting to confirm the details himself.

“He’s inside,” Liu Datong replied.

They entered the restaurant to find Liu Yong and two simply dressed men sitting at a table, waiting. There were a few small dishes and a steamer of buns on the table. Both men had bronzed complexions, clearly from years of outdoor labor. They were eating ravenously, usually scraping by on a few copper coins to feed their families, never having dined out before. Thanks to their benefactor today, they were enjoying a rare feast.

As soon as Liu Yong spotted Ning Zhiheng and Liu Datong, he hurriedly told the two men to stop eating. They obediently put down their chopsticks and stood up with Liu Yong.

Ning Zhiheng motioned for the three of them to sit and said with a gentle smile, “No need to be formal. Go ahead and eat—work is best done on a full stomach.”

Though the two rickshaw pullers were initially anxious, Ning Zhiheng’s approachable manner put them at ease. Still, none dared to keep eating, instead sitting stiffly and waiting for his questions.

Seeing that they were too nervous to eat, Ning Zhiheng didn’t press the matter and began his inquiry: “Who recognized the man in the photograph?”

“Me, I did!” both men answered at once.

Liu Datong frowned and said sternly, “Let’s be clear. Old Wei, you speak first!”

The older of the two, Old Wei, nodded with a forced smile and began his account. He lived on Beihua Street and worked the area as a rickshaw puller. After Liu Datong explained the task, his men focused their search on the local rickshaw pullers.

Old Wei had a good memory. Initially, he had considered feigning ignorance, not wanting any trouble, but when Liu Datong waved a wad of bills in front of him, he immediately admitted to recognizing Wang Yunfeng. He had taken Wang Yunfeng as a passenger twice—both times picking him up on Beihua Street and dropping him off at Yanshan Street in the north of the city.

“Yanshan Street,” Ning Zhiheng murmured. That was quite a distance, and more importantly, Yanshan Street was a densely populated area with at least twenty or thirty thousand residents. Not an easy place to search.

With a proud look, Liu Datong pointed to the other rickshaw puller. “Chief Ning, you haven’t asked this fellow yet.”

Ning Zhiheng looked at him inquiringly, and Liu Datong continued, “We found Old Wei in the morning, then spent the whole afternoon searching Yanshan Street. Since it’s not our jurisdiction, it took some time, but we eventually found this fellow.”

It turned out Liu Datong and his men, after taking Old Wei to Yanshan Street, searched for the spot where Wang Yunfeng got off and then questioned the local rickshaw pullers. Reasoning that if Wang Yunfeng took a rickshaw back, he might also have taken one there.

At last, under the lure of a hefty reward, they found this rickshaw puller named Chun San, who claimed he had seen someone very like the man in the photo.

“You didn’t actually take him as a passenger?” Ning Zhiheng asked, a trace of suspicion in his tone. “You just thought he looked familiar?”

“Sir, I wouldn’t dare lie to you. He was right next to me at the time. I asked if he needed a ride, but he ignored me and walked away,” Chun San said earnestly, afraid he’d lose his reward if he wasn’t believed.

“I remember it clearly—he was carrying a packet of pastries, eating as he walked. The smell was enough to make your mouth water.” At this, Chun San’s expression turned wistful. “My little girl, Er Ya, has always wanted to try those pastries, but I’ve never had the money. I promised myself that if I ever had spare cash, I’d buy some for her. That’s why it stuck in my mind.”

Ning Zhiheng suddenly recalled that when he’d questioned the landlord, Liu Molin, he had also said that Wang Yunfeng once brought him pastries as a gift.

“Do you remember when this was?” Ning Zhiheng asked.

“Just three days ago, on Yanshan Street, at the entrance of Zhangma Lane,” Chun San replied.

The gift of pastries to Liu Molin had been many days before, but Chun San had seen Wang Yunfeng eating pastries just three days ago—a significant gap in time. This suggested that Wang Yunfeng had a fondness for sweets and pastries, buying them both for himself and as gifts.

If he frequented pastry shops, the shopkeeper or assistants might recognize him or at least provide some useful information. Moreover, they could now prioritize searching the household records for Yanshan Street, further narrowing the scope. Ning Zhiheng felt certain—he was drawing ever closer to the mole.