Chapter Fifty-Nine: At Last, a Discovery

Ning Zhiheng summoned his subordinate, Sun Jiacheng, the very man who had fought Huang Xiansheng with a short blade. Sun was exceptionally skilled in close combat, and Ning had long wanted to learn from him, though a suitable opportunity had yet to arise. Cautious by nature, Ning was uneasy about undertaking this operation without a capable operative at hand; he believed that, should an emergency arise, he must take measures to protect himself. Sun Jiacheng was precisely the bodyguard candidate Ning had set his sights on—he was directly under Ning’s command and could be dispatched at will.

Sun Jiacheng was delighted to be summoned for this assignment. He held deep respect for the young captain, and to be singled out was, naturally, a rare opportunity.

At that moment, Shao Wenguang emerged, having changed into civilian clothes. Ning now realized that the old Shao looked far more natural in this plain garb than in his military uniform; it was clear he was accustomed to blending in. In this attire, no one on the street would suspect him of being an officer.

The three of them hurried to a rented apartment near Lin Mucheng’s residence, where Chen Yanqing was still keeping watch.

“Where is this Cui Hai right now?” Ning Zhiheng asked.

“He should be near the Fourth Division headquarters. He’s followed Lin Mucheng all the way,” Chen replied.

“And who is this Lin Mucheng? What’s his connection to Cui Hai?” Shao Wenguang, unfamiliar with the case, could not help but inquire.

Ning Zhiheng pulled up a chair for Shao and explained the case, deliberately downplaying Lin Mucheng’s level of suspicion. In truth, he was wary of Lin’s powerful connections and wished to avoid provoking trouble. If Lin’s identity reached the Military Intelligence Department, regardless of who eventually arrested him, Ning would be the instigator. He couldn’t guarantee that the influential Baoding faction figure backing Lin would not hold him responsible. Prudence was necessary.

He explained that Lin Mucheng had once worked alongside the Japanese spy Huang Xiansheng, and that it was during routine surveillance that he discovered someone tailing Lin—a trail that led to Cui Hai.

“So, what do you want from me?” Shao asked, furrowing his brow.

“Don’t concern yourself with Lin Mucheng. Our target is Cui Hai. From my assessment, he is the key to this case. He shows signs of counter-surveillance, so I need you to keep him in constant sight. I want to know his every move and whom he meets. He also has a suitcase in his hotel room—I’d like you to check it for clues if possible.”

“Understood. I see you have some men at your disposal—introduce them to me,” Shao responded.

“I have five police officers as assistants, plus seventeen rickshaw drivers on standby in the vicinity. If needed, I can bring in more. The problem is, none of them have dealt with real spies before—they lack experience. My fear is that a careless mistake could tip off the target, ruining everything,” Ning explained.

Shao was surprised—Ning’s preparations were far more thorough than he had expected. He realized he had underestimated the young man before him.

“I want command of your men so I can coordinate the operation—is that acceptable?” Shao inquired.

“Of course. That’s exactly why I brought you in, Shao. I’m too new to this field, so the men are yours. Just make sure you don’t alert the target,” Ning replied solemnly.

Shao nodded wordlessly, accepting the responsibility.

The arrangements proceeded smoothly. That same day, Ning gathered Liu Yong and the others, formally introduced Shao Wenguang, and announced that Shao would now direct all surveillance operations. The group was startled to learn that this unassuming man—who looked more like a servant than an officer—actually outranked Ning in the Intelligence Department. They realized appearances could indeed be deceiving.

From that day, Shao Wenguang took charge. Within a single day, his leadership had won over the entire team. He didn’t concern himself with the rickshaw drivers; their role was simply to drive and report their positions, leaving little room for error. His focus was on the core surveillance team, whom he drilled with precise instructions.

He patted Ning’s shoulder, saying, “Zhiheng, you stand too straight. Even when ordinary people stand tall, there’s a difference from a soldier. A soldier’s posture is deliberately rigid—almost wooden. You should lean your head forward a bit, relax your shoulders. These details may escape most, but someone with keen observation will spot them.”

“And your Longines watch is too conspicuous—it doesn’t match your clothes. A pocket watch would be better,” he continued.

Realizing his oversight, Ning hastily removed the luxury timepiece. Such a watch was beyond the means of most people, and he now saw how careless he’d been.

Shao then turned to Xiong Hongda. “You have some experience with tailing, but remember: never look directly at your subject. Use your peripheral vision—some people are very sensitive to being watched. Also, avoid facing the target head-on. People have vague memories of side profiles, but front views stick with them. If the target sees the same face multiple times in a short period, he’ll quickly become alert.”

“And you!” Shao pointed at Hou Cheng. “You nearly blew the operation today! Always have small change on hand when tailing. You pretended to eat rice cakes at a snack stall to avoid arousing suspicion, but you didn’t have change, so you argued with the vendor for ages. The target looked at you several times—he’s probably noticed you by now. Sit out the next few days, or you’ll risk alarming him!”

Hou Cheng blushed and lowered his head in shame. Such a small detail had nearly caused a disaster—if his mistake had caused the operation to fail, he would never have forgiven himself.

Shao Wenguang’s sharp eye spared no one, but the team accepted his criticism—every point was spot-on. The true professional stood apart.

Ning Zhiheng was thoroughly satisfied; Senior Wei had recommended the right man. Shao was indeed a master of surveillance. “We have an advantage now: Cui Hai has no idea he’s been exposed. He’s focused entirely on Lin Mucheng and has let down his guard, which is how we’ve managed to watch him for two days without being detected. But we can’t afford to slack off! With Officer Shao’s guidance, we must be flawless. As the saying goes, ‘The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.’ We must be that oriole—no mistakes allowed.”

The team responded with grave determination.

The next day, while Cui Hai was out, Shao Wenguang slipped into his room and soon returned.

“How did it go? Any findings?” Ning asked.

“Nothing. I searched everywhere else, but found nothing. I didn’t dare open the suitcase—there are special markers on it, and I couldn’t guarantee I’d restore them perfectly. I suspect it’s a decoy—anything important wouldn’t be left somewhere so obvious,” Shao replied, shaking his head. As a seasoned operative, he knew it was better to leave things untouched than to risk discovery.

Ning hadn’t held out much hope. In his place, he too would keep anything vital close at hand.

“Forget it, then. Any markers in the room?” Ning asked.

“There are three: one on the door seam, one at the window, and one on the bedsheet. He’s an old hand—if you’d gone in, you’d have been caught at once,” Shao replied with a self-satisfied grin.

It was indeed dangerous. Ning silently congratulated himself for his caution; had he acted rashly, their surveillance would have been blown.

Still, he was prepared for the worst. If they did alarm the target, he’d simply proceed with the arrest—Cui Hai must have had contact with the rest of the Shadow Group and would know their hidden identities. If it weren’t for his desire to uncover the new leader of the Shadow Group, Ning would have already made the arrest and, under harsh interrogation, tested Cui Hai’s resolve. If that failed, he still had his trump card.

But that was a last resort. If technical means could solve the problem, there was no need for violence; it was the safest approach. His trump card was unreliable—if Cui Hai turned out to be another stubborn agent, he couldn’t be sure the final visions would relate to the current mission. If that happened, they’d be completely in the dark.

So unless it became absolutely necessary, he wouldn’t move to arrest. Since the target hadn’t been spooked yet, he’d see what further surveillance might yield.

Four more days passed in this way, with surveillance running smoothly under Shao’s guidance. Ning calculated that today marked the sixth day since they’d discovered Cui Hai, meaning that Cui Hai had been tailing Lin Mucheng for six days. He wondered what Cui Hai was thinking—did he believe he could confirm Lin’s identity just by watching?

By Ning’s reckoning, Cui Hai should have at least made contact with Lin, or, failing that, used coded radio transmissions to arrange a meeting. If Lin was compromised, there would surely be an ambush, and Cui Hai would observe from the shadows for traps.

There were many methods to ascertain whether an intelligence agent was exposed.

But Cui Hai’s patience was remarkable—six days of surveillance and still no action. Ning was losing patience himself. If nothing happened soon, he’d proceed with the arrest; he was tired of waiting.

“Officer Ning, something’s happened!” Wen Xingsheng ran over, breathless with urgency.