Chapter Thirty-Three: Extracting Value

“Now, let me ask you a more personal question: where do you keep your valuables and money?” Ning Zhiheng pressed further.

Huang Xiansheng’s swollen, bruised face froze in uncertainty, hesitation flickering in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re a man with empty sleeves and nothing to your name! Sometimes, overplaying your part is not a good thing,” Ning Zhiheng paced softly, his sharp gaze locked onto Huang Xiansheng.

“What in this world could be more important than your life?” Ning Zhiheng added calmly.

With a bitter sigh, Huang Xiansheng said, “Sometimes, after playing the role for so long, it almost becomes reality.”

He shifted his body slightly to make himself more comfortable, and finally spoke, “At the eastern leg of the bed in my bedroom, the inside is hollowed out. There’s a key hidden there. It’s the key to a safety deposit box at Xinhua Bank. It must be used together with the bank’s own key to open the box.”

Xinhua Bank was a major establishment in Tianjin, and one of the most powerful banks in the nation. As the capital, Nanjing naturally had its own branch, and its safety deposit service was pioneering in the country.

“By your account, it’s been six years since you first made contact with the Japanese. Have you developed any new subordinates since then?” This was, in fact, Ning Zhiheng’s most pressing question today.

Capturing Huang Xiansheng was not the end; following the trail to uncover the entire spy network was his true objective.

“No, I’ve kept an extremely low profile. I seldom make friends, and most acquaintances are just that—superficial. I try my best not to attract any attention,” Huang Xiansheng replied, closing his eyes.

Ning Zhiheng pondered his words, finding it hard to discern the truth.

Now, with Huang Xiansheng so weak and battered, his face swollen beyond recognition, and his movements labored, it was impossible to judge his honesty by his expressions or behavior. Besides, a well-trained spy is adept at concealing his true thoughts; analyzing their words and actions could be a futile endeavor.

He hesitated, deciding to move on, since there was no way to verify whether Huang had developed new contacts—unless he resorted to extreme measures.

Still, he felt confident. In the final reckoning, Huang Xiansheng would not escape his grasp.

For the next two hours, Ning Zhiheng meticulously questioned him about the intelligence he had previously stolen. Huang Xiansheng had sent every piece of information he could access to the Japanese Tokko, and even managed to steal and pass on much that should have been beyond his reach. As he reviewed the interrogation record, Ning Zhiheng felt a chill in his heart.

The Japanese intelligence apparatus was disturbingly effective. If a single mole could steal so much, how many more like Huang Xiansheng had the Japanese cultivated over decades of effort?

“How many members are in your special operations group? Do you have any contact with each other?” Ning Zhiheng pressed, hoping to extract more clues, though he knew the chances were slim.

Huang Xiansheng was silent for a long moment, then licked his dry lips and asked, “Windmill has been captured as well, hasn’t he? These are questions you should ask him. There is no lateral contact between agents; he is the hub for all our communications. He’s the one who gave up the location of the dead drop, isn’t he?”

“Windmill?” Ning Zhiheng echoed, a flicker of confusion crossing his face, only to realize in that instant that he had made a serious error.

Huang Xiansheng caught the lapse immediately, raising his head to stare at Ning Zhiheng. “Windmill hasn’t been captured? Then how did you find North Hua Street, number 402? How did you know about the pot of roses? How could that be?”

Doubt and frustration burned in Huang Xiansheng’s eyes. He desperately wanted to understand where he had slipped up.

“Comrade Huang, you’re too curious. What’s the point of all this now?” Ning Zhiheng replied coolly. “What could you possibly recover?”

“I just find it strange. Normally, what you should care about most is the key figure in our group—my handler, Windmill! He is the leader of the Shadow Unit, holding the radio and managing the final handoff of intelligence for every operative. Yet you only asked once about the location of the dead drop, and never pursued the lead. That means you already know who collects the information. You know who he is! Windmill has been exposed! Maybe even arrested! And you know about North Hua Street, 402, and the roses—details only Windmill would know. But now your face tells me you don’t even know the codename Windmill, or the Shadow Unit, which puzzles me. He didn’t confess, did he? You didn’t get any other members’ signal locations from him, did you? Then how did you find me?”

Huang Xiansheng was clearly trapped in a spiral of confused logic, repeating his questions in vain, desperate for answers he would never receive.

From his words, Ning Zhiheng finally pieced it together: Fu Cheng, also known as Ryota Yanagida, was Windmill. They belonged to the Shadow Unit, with Windmill as the handler and likely the group leader—evidenced by the two bodyguard spies always watching over him. Unfortunately, his will had proved unbreakable; he died under the electric torture, never yielding to interrogation. If not for Ning Zhiheng’s involvement, the Military Intelligence Bureau would have gained nothing.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Jiang Wende entered with the duty doctor.

“Captain Ning, the interrogation has gone on long enough. Let the doctor examine the prisoner—if he can go on, you may continue,” Jiang Wende gestured for the doctor to proceed.

Huang Xiansheng had suffered severe torture earlier, and though basic treatment had been administered, Ning Zhiheng had now interrogated him for another two hours. Jiang Wende feared Ning Zhiheng’s relentless pursuit would prove fatal, and if the prisoner died, it would be their responsibility. After all, if the suspect talked, the credit would go to the Operations Division, but the Interrogation Section would still get a share of the merit.

The duty doctor examined Huang Xiansheng carefully, then said, “He can’t endure further questioning. His wounds are still bleeding, his vital signs are dropping, and his temperature is rising. He’ll soon have a high fever.”

He turned to Jiang Wende with a wry smile. “Captain Jiang, it looks like we’ll need to request another dose of sulfa. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee he’ll survive this ordeal.”

Jiang Wende felt a headache coming on. Sulfa had only recently been developed, and was the world’s most effective antibacterial medicine; supplies were extremely limited. Every dose was as precious as gold, if not more so, and only agencies like the Military Intelligence Bureau had the means to acquire it.

They’d already used one dose during Fu Cheng’s interrogation; now, to request another would surely provoke their superiors’ ire, with another severe dressing-down to follow.

He turned to Ning Zhiheng. “Captain Ning, our Interrogation Section’s allocation is very tight. Perhaps your Operations Division can solve this problem.”

Ning Zhiheng saw through the ploy immediately—he had no intention of footing the bill for this. Truth be told, he would be just as happy to see this traitorous Japanese spy die, so he could examine his memories for the most reliable intelligence. To be honest, he still harbored doubts about Huang Xiansheng’s testimony and needed final confirmation.

“Captain Jiang, you’re being overly dramatic about the suspect’s condition. Asking for another dose of sulfa at the drop of a hat—you must be flush with funds!” Ning Zhiheng stood, gathering his things to leave. “For a mere suspect, giving him top-grade Yunnan Baiyao should be more than generous.”

Jiang Wende’s brows twitched with irritation. This slippery fellow was impossible to pin down—neither hard nor soft tactics worked. In the end, the prisoner was in their custody; if he died, they would bear the blame.

“We can’t guarantee he’ll survive the imminent fever. It’s just a reprimand for us, but for your Operations Division, it could mean a major loss,” Jiang Wende replied icily.

“He’s already confessed everything of value. If he dies, so be it. We should all wash our hands of it and get some rest; his fate is out of our hands now,” Ning Zhiheng said flatly.

Neither man was willing to back down, each waiting for the other to yield. The duty doctor could only watch helplessly as the standoff grew awkward once more.

Ning Zhiheng had no fear of these hardened interrogators. In the end, though their seniority was greater, their influence and background paled in comparison. If he really wanted to make things difficult for them, he had plenty of ways to do so.

“I’ll pay!” A faint voice suddenly cut through the tension.

You really are the monkey sent to save the day—always breaking the deadlock at just the right moment!

“There’s money in my bank safety deposit box!”

“I don’t want to die!” Huang Xiansheng’s gaze was empty, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Comrade Huang, let me remind you: the money in your safety deposit box is now state property. You have no right to dispose of it,” Ning Zhiheng replied with contempt, disgusted by the lack of conviction in this traitor and Japanese spy.

“I don’t want to die, I beg you!” Huang Xiansheng pleaded for his life, all dignity gone. Having abandoned his beliefs, he had no pride left.

His years in the military had taught him that the most common cause of death in wartime was infection after injury. With the country’s primitive medical conditions, there was little hope for effective treatment. His wounds covered his body, and ordinary medicine would do little; the slightest infection could be fatal. He did not want to die, dazed and delirious, in this sunless underground chamber.

“Very well, I’ll make an exception for you this time. But, Comrade Huang, your future will depend on your performance. Don’t let me down.” A trace of disdain curled Ning Zhiheng’s lips.

Nothing is more important than life itself. As long as he fears death, he will be manageable. Ning Zhiheng was confident there was still more value to be squeezed from Huang Xiansheng.

Moreover, this was his first time working with the Interrogation Section—he didn’t want to sour the relationship completely. After all, they would have to collaborate in the future; for today, he could afford to take a step back.