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Chapter 001: Cheng Qianfan

    

ghters can have a couple of drinks too.Especially the youngest one, who loves their homemade sorghum liquor the most.I didn't manage to buy the sorghum liquor, and I don't know if the youngest will ge...In 1936, Shanghai, early spring.

The spring cold is biting.

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Cheng Qianfan opened the window and glanced outside. The sky was overcast, as if it were about to rain.

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A glance from the corner of his eye observed the entrance to the lane, people coming and going, nothing unusual.

You could hear Liu Ah-da, the wonton seller, arguing with Ma Auntie again.

Aunt Ma is always taking advantage of others, she always has all sorts of excuses, the wonton filling is too small, the taste is too bland, the skin is too thin, the skin is too thick.

Every time Liu A-da had to give Ma Auntie an extra bowl of wonton soup, she would leave with a smug smile, never forgetting to say, 'There's too little shrimp paste.'

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Liu A-da would often say he wouldn't sell to you again next time.

Cheng Qianfan took off his patrol officer uniform and began to change.

The V-neck chunky knit sweater lengthened his upper body lines.

Wearing a knitted cardigan and coat over a sweater adds layers to the overall outfit.

This is a very common attire for intellectuals, giving Cheng Qianfan an air of scholarship, like a university student or a young teacher in a school.

Today is the day I'm scheduled to meet Lao Liao, as usual.

Whenever this happened, Cheng Qianfan's whole being burned with fervor.

He believes that every underground worker, when meeting with his comrades, feels this way.

Underground workers are solitary, and their work environment is complex and perilous.

Always be on guard, outsmart your enemies and the environment around you. There is no room for error.

The happiest time is when we meet with our comrades, chat and talk about work, and imagine the bright future of our motherland in everyone's hearts.

Even if we don't touch when we meet, and can't even speak, just a look from each other is the greatest encouragement.

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We are not in a solitary struggle, we have comrades.

Cheng Qianfan recalled a conversation he had with Lao Liao. Lao Liao gestured excitedly, saying that what he looked forward to most was at the end of the year, basking in the sun in his ancestral home courtyard, smoking a cigarette pack, shouting out, and having (grand)sons and (grand)daughters surround him. The commotion from his grandchildren would be truly delightful.

Cheng Qianfan fell silent and said nothing.

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Lao Liao is from Northeast China.

The whole family participated in the anti-association.

There was an old partner, three sons, and two daughters. All of them sacrificed themselves.

The old man is now a solitary figure.

This old man is full of bitterness and resentment in his heart.

National hatred and family feud.

Half an hour later.

Cheng Qianfan waited for the tram on Fada Road.

He was carrying a bottle of sorghum liquor in his hand.

Tram Line 2 runs from Shipaipu to Xujiahui, passing through bustling areas like Fada Road and Jinshenfu Road. It is the most important transportation line in the French Concession.

Cheng Qianfan is to get off at Xiashan Road.

Old Liao was waiting for him at the site.

When Cheng Qianfan took the tram at that time, Lao Liao pretended to get on the tram. The two would have contact at this moment, secretly and quickly completing the transmission of information or items.

The trains were crowded, with many passengers waiting. It was generally difficult for the elderly and weak to get on board.

Shanghai newspapers once used an exaggerated headline to describe the difficulty of taking the tram: "Charging into battle to take the tram".

"Brave passengers, before the iron door was opened, jumped into the carriage through the windows or from the front and back of the train."

By the time you stepped through the door, the carriage was teeming with people, packed so tightly it felt like being in a sardine can.

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At the station, a group of elderly and wounded soldiers were left behind. They pinned their hopes on the next train.

Those in a hurry would only have to hire a rickshaw or tricycle at a high price, or else they would have to endure the hardship of their own feet.

So, Lao Liao is getting old, he pretends to be unable to squeeze onto the train.

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This is reasonable.

Reasonableness is the first thing an underground worker should consider, as Comrade "Zhu Lin" instructed and Cheng Qianfan always kept in mind.

Then, if Lao Liao chooses to wait for the next train at his current location, it means everything is normal and there hasn't been any urgent notification from superiors, so things remain as usual.

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If Lao Liao acted impatiently and chose to walk away instead of waiting for the tram, it meant that something urgent had happened and the two people needed to find a chance to meet immediately.

Unless Lao Liao or Cheng Qianfan exposed themselves, as long as someone kept an eye on them, this kind of contact wouldn't attract the attention of others.

A train is a carrier, a very good cover tool.

Cheng Qianfan finally managed to squeeze onto the bus.

At first glance, I saw Li Hao.

Li Hao is a ticket seller on Line 2 of the subway. He wears a yellow plaid uniform and has a white cloth bag slung across his shoulder to hold the fare money.

He clutched his ticket pouch tightly, his gaze piercing as he scrutinized every passenger up and down. "Tickets for those boarding!" he shouted from his perch.

Cheng Qianfan didn't speak, met Li Hao's gaze, and bought a ticket.

Li Hao shook his head slightly towards Cheng Qianfan, indicating that no one was following them.

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As a train ticket collector, I had a good vantage point and developed hawk-like vision. I could see and remember every man, woman, and child who boarded the train.

He kept an eye on Cheng Qianfan's back as he walked in, making sure there was nothing unusual, while raising his voice and shouting at a passenger with a long face, "I bought a four-dollar silver ticket. At most, I can ride to Father Jinshen!"

Lao Liao wore an old, thin cotton coat. He wasn't squeezed in the crowd but stood at the edge of it, holding a bottle of yellow wine in his hand.

This location is good, with a great view and easy observation.

Lao Liao took a glance at the yellow wine and let out a sigh.

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Today is the anniversary of my late wife and youngest son's passing. All the kids drink well, both daughters can have a couple of drinks too.

Especially the youngest one, who loves their homemade sorghum liquor the most.

I didn't manage to buy the sorghum liquor, and I don't know if the youngest will get upset.

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Lao Liao's nose ached, as if he saw Lao Yao pulling the pin on a grenade and disappearing with the Japanese search party.

That was his youngest and most beloved child. He's gone just like that, leaving him with several older siblings.

On the second floor of a civilian house on the street, several dozen meters away.

"Team leader, I'm going downstairs to buy some cigarettes," Ding Naifei said. He had several cigarette butts at his feet and was out of smokes; his nicotine cravings were kicking in.

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Wang Kangnian waved his hand.

“This old man seems to be daydreaming.” Wang Kangnian put down the telescope and pondered for a moment, “What is he thinking about”

Wang Kangnian is the head of Group Three, Action Division, Shanghai Special Zone Office, Central Party Affairs Commission.

This person particularly enjoys pondering these small details. Wang Kangnian believes that emotions and expressions people inadvertently reveal can sometimes unconsciously expose important information.

Ding Nai Fei, who went downstairs to buy cigarettes, is back.

“Old Ding, take a look.” With that, he handed the telescope to his deputy, Ding Naifei.

Ding Naifei broke open a pack of cigarettes, took one herself and offered one to the team leader.

At the same time, he took up the telescope and glanced at it casually, biting on his cigar and speaking, "Chief, I'm just good at the heavy lifting. You want me to shoot this old man dead I can do that. But when it comes to thinking things through, I'm not the right person for the job."

“You need to learn to use your brain. All this fighting and killing won't get you anywhere.” Wang Kangnian said with a laugh.

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"I'll just follow the team leader," Ding Naifei said, not angry at all. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag, looking pleased.

“Does this old man drink” Wang Kangnian picked up the telescope and, upon careful observation, saw the old man lower his head several times to look at the bottle he was carrying. This detail caught his attention and piqued his interest.

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Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!h.This seems to be an HTML tag. Please provide the text content within the tags for translation.Today is the anniversary of my late wife and youngest son's passing. All the kids drink well, both daugh...