Chapter Seventy-Eight: Erasing the Traces

At present, Ma Hong and Zhang Pei’s group were all involved in the Shadow Squad case, which had already been taken over by the upper echelons of the Military Intelligence Bureau. For the time being, Ning Zhiheng couldn’t intervene. However, these were all minor players. Once the case concluded, the Central Party Affairs Investigation Office would surely take them back, and then he could deal with Zhang Pei. Ning Zhiheng was confident that, given his own skills, it would not be difficult to find an opportunity to take Zhang Pei’s life.

With this in mind, Ning Zhiheng took his camera and hurried to the infirmary, only to find that Lu Ming’s body had already been sent to the morgue. He rushed there, photographed Lu Ming’s features for the record, and made a point of instructing the staff to preserve the body carefully. When the case was over, he would choose a burial site with good feng shui and see to a proper interment.

By the time he returned to his office and developed the photographs, it was already late at night. Only then did Ning Zhiheng hasten home. The first thing he did upon arriving was to fetch white paper and brushes; he wanted to sketch portraits of those people while his memories were still vivid.

This time, the information from Lu Ming’s memories was relatively sparse. The first image was simple enough—a scene from Lu Ming’s youth, which could be ignored. The second was a memory from his military days, indicating only that he had once been a soldier, which wasn’t useful. The third image, however, was the scene of his swearing-in when he joined the Red Party—the most profound memory before his death. In it appeared a slender officer of similar age, Lu Ming’s party introducer. Judging by his years, he would only be middle-aged now, and his appearance likely hadn’t changed much. This face had to be committed to paper, so that if Ning Zhiheng ever encountered him, he could immediately confirm his identity and act accordingly.

The fourth image must have been of Lu Ming’s beloved partner, shot and dying in his arms. With Lu Ming’s death, her portrait no longer held any value.

The most important was the fifth image, which revealed the most information. First, it mentioned a comrade named Bo Ran who died in action, after which Lu Ming took over his work and inherited the code name “Shadow.” Most crucially, there was the contact codenamed “Farmer.” The portrait of this person was key and had to be drawn.

He set to work, his brush flying. Soon he had sketched the two figures from Lu Ming’s memory and carefully added every detail and annotation. Only then did he set his brush aside, satisfied. He slid open his desk, opened the safe, and placed the party introducer’s portrait inside. As for the Farmer’s portrait, that he would carry with him.

Once everything was in order, it was already past two in the morning. Only then did Ning Zhiheng allow himself to rest. Fortunately, he had his spiritual cultivation space to recover, and with the miraculous restorative powers of the Bodhi tree, he awoke the next morning refreshed and full of energy.

Early that morning, he hurried to the Military Intelligence Bureau, summoned Shi Hong and Wang Shucheng, and distributed Lu Ming’s photographs to them. He instructed them to lead their teams to all the police stations in Nanjing to check household registration files, especially to report any recent cases of missing persons to the Military Intelligence Investigation Bureau for unified review. He was confident that clues would soon emerge.

The bureau’s notice for assistance was quickly circulated to all police stations. In no time, a vast net was cast over the entire city of Nanjing, and the household registration departments in each precinct worked overtime. Within two days, they had found over a hundred citizens whose appearances matched.

Further investigation was conducted, and soon reports came back: among those more than a hundred people, all were accounted for except one—Lu Guangran, Section Chief of the Second Division of the National Defense Department at the Ministry of Finance, who hadn’t been to work in two days.

Ning Zhiheng immediately notified the Ministry of Finance to come identify the body. Three staff members soon arrived, and upon viewing the remains, confirmed that the deceased was indeed Lu Guangran, the Section Chief in question.

They had all been Lu Ming’s colleagues in life. Upon learning that the usually honest and low-key Section Chief Lu was actually a Red Party underground member, they dared not claim the body, fearing that the secret police of the Military Intelligence Investigation Bureau would target them and implicate them in the future. Besides, Lu Guangran had no family.

Ning Zhiheng had not intended to let them claim the body in the first place. After carefully inquiring about Lu Ming’s work and home address, he let them leave.

In just two days, Ning Zhiheng had mobilized vast resources and finally uncovered Lu Ming’s cover identity. Such was the power of the state machinery: by rightfully using the resources of government departments, he had achieved his goal with ease.

As the officer responsible for the arrest of the underground member Lu Guangran, conducting a routine investigation to confirm the body’s identity was a perfectly normal action—no one would suspect otherwise.

He took no one with him and, following the directions given by the Ministry of Finance staff, went straight to Lu Ming’s home. It was a remote but sizable residence, with a large lock on the door.

Ning Zhiheng first circled the perimeter, observing carefully. Seeing nothing suspicious, he approached the gate and produced a ring of keys—taken from Lu Ming’s body.

He knew that sooner or later, the Party Affairs Investigation Office would discover Lu Ming’s identity and find his home. The capabilities of the Office should not be underestimated. As one of China’s earliest intelligence agencies, it boasted many seasoned operatives. Tracing Lu Ming’s identity would not be difficult—especially since Ning Zhiheng’s search for Lu Ming had made quite a stir, which would soon alert their sharp senses. Therefore, he wanted to get in first and check for anything that might endanger the underground organization—he had to clear out any threats in time.

Lu Ming’s home was spacious, as befitted a government official. Yet aside from the necessary furniture, it was sparsely decorated, making it feel rather empty.

Ning Zhiheng donned a pair of gloves and carefully wrapped coarse cloth over his shoes—just in case. When the Party Affairs Investigation Office came to search the house, he did not want to leave any traces behind.

He began in the living room: tea table, sofa, drawers—he searched every possible hiding place, but found nothing of value. He moved on to the guest room, and finally the bedroom, but still came up empty. All the usual household items were present, but nothing relating to the underground organization. Clearly, Lu Ming had always been a most cautious man.

But perhaps it was almost too clean? Ning Zhiheng decided to search the bedroom once more.

People tend to feel safest in confined spaces, trusting what is within their line of sight. So the bedroom is, more often than not, where personal secrets are hidden—a common human trait.

He searched inch by inch. When he came to the wardrobe, he decided to take out all the clothes and carefully feel through them. At last, he noticed that one plank fitted more loosely than the others.

Producing a dagger, he pried at the board, which came away with ease—a sign it was often removed. Clearly, something was hidden there.

Sure enough, behind the plank in the wall was a square-foot cavity, inside which rested a wooden box.

Found it!

Ning Zhiheng’s spirits soared. The hiding place was so secret that he had nearly missed it.

He took out the wooden box, feeling its weight in his hands, and set it on the bedside table before opening it gently.

Inside were quite a few items. On the right were over a dozen gold bars and several stacks of banknotes—both pounds and legal tender—amounting to a considerable sum.

But this was hardly surprising. For a section chief at the Ministry of Finance, this was a paltry sum. In those days, any official with even a bit of real power might have amassed ten or a hundred times as much. Lu Ming’s assets surely exceeded these, but considering the underground party’s straitened circumstances, he had probably turned over most of his earnings to the organization for operating funds.

On the left side of the box was a red cloth bundle. Unwrapping it, he found two remarkably beautiful Yuhua stones—smooth, lustrous, and radiant in color. Beneath them was a photograph: the sweetly smiling young woman from Lu Ming’s memories, her head bowed in a gentle smile.

After a careful inspection, there was nothing else in the box. These items were really just personal effects—nothing to suggest any link to the underground party.

Ning Zhiheng felt a pang of disappointment. After searching the whole house, this was all he had found. He would hand the wooden box over to the contact, Farmer.

He did not intend to take a cent of the money inside. He had no need for it, and besides, it belonged to Lu Ming and should ultimately go to the underground organization.

As for the two Yuhua stones and the photograph in the red bundle, there was surely a story behind them. Ning Zhiheng did not know how to handle them, but perhaps Farmer, who had been Lu Ming’s comrade for many years, would know what to do.

Despite his disappointment, Ning Zhiheng did not want to linger any longer. He had already spent quite some time in Lu Ming’s home.

He carefully restored everything he had touched to its original place. As he was wiping away traces in the living room, he suddenly felt something was amiss. He surveyed the space once more and finally spotted the problem.

On the tea table in the living room stood more than a dozen exquisite little tea canisters. At first, Ning Zhiheng had thought nothing of it, assuming Lu Ming was fond of tea. Now, though, it seemed odd. Most households would not keep so many canisters, and for a man living alone, a single canister would last a long while. Even if they were small, buying so many was excessive, especially since tea leaves have a shelf life—there was simply no need.

He went over and opened each of the canisters for inspection. There was nothing unusual inside—only tea leaves, nothing else.

But Ning Zhiheng’s instincts told him that this was surely a flaw Lu Ming had left behind. The Party Affairs Investigation Office would certainly search here afterward, so he had to take all the tea canisters with him to avoid leaving a dangerous clue behind.