Chapter Seventy-Three: Finding a Kindred Spirit

When Ning Zhiheng heard the report, his spirits lifted and he quickly asked, “What’s happening?”
The team member replied, “The man in the Zhongshan suit who just passed by is heading directly to Ma Hong’s residence. It looks like he’s going inside!”
At this, Ning Zhiheng remembered that several people had passed the ambush point earlier, but since everyone had seen Ma Hong’s photo and knew it wasn’t him, they’d let them go.
He hadn’t expected one of these people would be going to Ma Hong’s house—this was an important development.
He immediately led a few team members back to the surveillance point near Ma Hong’s residence. He’d originally learned that Ma Hong wasn’t home, so he’d only set up a few observation points and focused more on the ambush. Luckily, the ambush point was close to Ma Hong’s house, so they could hurry back in time.
This surveillance spot was well chosen—very hidden, with a good field of view. Ning Zhiheng, who had excellent eyesight, could clearly see a young man opening Ma Hong’s courtyard gate.
“The gate is locked. He’s using a key, and he didn’t even look around before opening the door. This means he comes here often and has Ma Hong’s key—he must be someone Ma Hong trusts greatly!” Shao Wenguang analyzed at his side.
Ning Zhiheng nodded in agreement. Why had this person come to Ma Hong’s house at this time? If Ma Hong had given him the key, it meant he definitely wasn’t coming home tonight. The ambush was now pointless.
Soon, the young man came out carrying a package, locked the gate behind him, and headed back the way he came.
“Captain, should we move in and grab him? A simple interrogation would tell us what we need!” Shi Hong was getting anxious. Their orders from above were to arrest Ma Hong tonight, and now that they finally had a lead, they couldn’t let it slip away.
Ning Zhiheng thought for a moment, then said, “No, let him go for now! Old Shao, follow him! If he’s come to collect something, he must be taking it to Ma Hong. If we follow him, we might find Ma Hong’s whereabouts. Only if we have to will we detain and question him. For now, don’t alert him!”
Shao Wenguang nodded and silently tailed the man.
Ning Zhiheng instructed Shi Hong to remain with ten others in ambush at Ma Hong’s house, in case Ma Hong suddenly returned, and ordered Shi Hong to arrest him on sight.
He himself led the rest of the team, following Shao Wenguang from a distance, tracking the trail.
After about half an hour and crossing several districts, they finally saw Shao Wenguang signaling from afar. Ning Zhiheng understood their target must have stopped.
By now, dusk had fallen and the streetlights were flickering on. Ning Zhiheng approached Shao Wenguang, who was concealed in a dark corner, and asked quietly, “What’s the situation now?”
Shao Wenguang pointed toward a three-story inn and replied, “He went inside. I suspect Ma Hong is there too. I’ll go in and check. Wait for me here!”
After Ning Zhiheng nodded, Shao Wenguang checked himself over. He was dressed in his usual, unremarkable short tunic and had an ordinary face—just another average citizen on the street.
Careful and experienced, he concealed himself well, leaving no flaws for others to detect.
He strolled over casually and entered the inn. Meanwhile, Ning Zhiheng began positioning his men, dividing the dozen team members into three groups hidden around the inn, all waiting quietly for Shao Wenguang’s report.
Before long, Shao Wenguang reappeared, slipped into their hiding spot, and reported to Ning Zhiheng, “Confirmed. I slipped the attendant a little tip; he said there are six of them, staying in three adjoining rooms on the third floor, southern side. They checked in four days ago. I showed him Ma Hong’s photo—he confirmed Ma Hong is the leader among them!”
“Which three rooms?” Ning Zhiheng asked, pointing at the inn’s windows. He needed to confirm Ma Hong’s position.
“The three on the eastern end!” Shao Wenguang looked up, identified them, and pointed them out.
Ning Zhiheng thought for a moment, piecing together the clues. He asked Shao Wenguang, “Old Shao, what kind of mission do you think Ma Hong is carrying out? He checked in four days ago and hasn’t been home since. That young man must be his subordinate, fetching him a change of clothes or some necessities.”
“Exactly. The attendant said these men keep to themselves, rarely going out. If they’re not going out to act, what are they doing holed up in their rooms?” Shao Wenguang said, puzzled.
“Surveillance!” they both said in unison.
Ning Zhiheng clapped his hands, eyes lighting up. “They’re watching a target—look!”
He pointed at the three easternmost windows on the inn’s third floor. “From those windows, you can see straight into the restaurant across the street. If they use binoculars, they can clearly see everyone inside. Their target must be in that restaurant!”
He then mused aloud, “But who is their target?”
Shao Wenguang, an old hand, saw the issue too and nodded. “You’re right—they must be watching here. Who could the target be? I’d wager it’s a Red Party underground agent. Since the sixteenth year of the Republic, the Central Party Affairs Investigation Office has worked tirelessly to deal with the Red Party and has arrested many operatives.”
The Red Party.
Ning Zhiheng’s heart skipped a beat. In this life, he’d longed to find his own organization, but had lacked leads.
Now, in the twenty-fifth year of the Republic, it was the lowest ebb for the Red Party since the April Twelfth Incident. Many outstanding members had been murdered by the Nationalists; their army had suffered severe losses, their numbers dwindling. Even in intelligence, the underground network had been nearly destroyed—many agents arrested or killed, and many more cut off, left without contact and forced to go into deep hiding.
The chief culprit was the Central Party Affairs Investigation Office.
Of course, the Red Party’s own flaws played a role. In the early days, their intelligence work was crude, with poor operational security and inexperienced methods, which allowed their enemies to exploit weaknesses. Once one person was captured, entire networks would unravel—a situation that persisted for some time.
Only after paying a heavy price, learning through bloodshed, and changing their methods—especially by adopting single-line contacts and other security measures—did the organization become more secure and hidden, and the situation finally improve.
“Underground agents? Whether or not, it doesn’t concern our mission,” Ning Zhiheng curled his lip, feigning disdain. “Our task tonight is to arrest Ma Hong!”

Half an hour earlier, in a private room of the restaurant across the street, a gaunt middle-aged man sat at the table, restless and anxious.
At last, the door opened quietly and a man with a thick scarf entered.
Seeing someone arrive, the thin man leapt up, eyes full of longing.
The one in the scarf closed the door carefully, turned around, took off his scarf, and gazed silently at the thin man.
“Old Lu! It’s really you—is it truly you?” The middle-aged man rushed forward, gripping Lu Ming’s hands tightly.
“Old Zhang, it’s been years! How have you been?” Lu Ming also gripped his hands, full of emotion.
Zhang Pei couldn’t hold back his tears, his voice choked. “Seven years—it’s been seven years since we last met! Old Lu, you can’t imagine what these years have been like. Always hiding, wandering, unable to find the organization or comrades. Like a child without a mother—you understand how that feels?”
Lu Ming gently patted Zhang Pei’s shoulder. “Old Zhang, I understand. Don’t get too emotional—let’s sit and talk.”
He helped Zhang Pei to a seat, both men full of sighs at life’s twists of fate. Lu Ming asked, “Old Zhang, since we parted in Jiangbei in the nineteenth year of the Republic, where have you been?”
Hearing this, Zhang Pei let out a long sigh. “It’s a long story. Three days after our last meeting, the organization was destroyed by secret police. Many from the district committee were arrested, even several leaders didn’t escape.
I barely shook off my pursuers and escaped with my life. I hid for half a year in my hometown near Beiping, then went back to Jiangbei to find the organization. But everything had changed—every contact lost, no idea if anyone survived. I searched everywhere—every contact point, every safe house—hoping to reconnect. But in the end, nothing. I suppose the entire Jiangbei district committee was wiped out.”
“Yes, it was a dire situation. Some managed to escape, but most were caught. Others, like you, completely lost contact and remain out of touch to this day,” Lu Ming sighed deeply. The losses then had been devastating; the Red Party’s best people were swept away, leaving it weakened to this day.
“Where did you go after that?” Lu Ming asked.
“I found a small village near Beiping—my relative helped me get a new identity, and I hid there for years.
I ventured back to Jiangbei and Shanghai many times, hoping to find the organization, but I had no leads—like a headless fly, wandering aimlessly. Even if I had found someone, no one could verify my identity. I was about to give up.
This time I came to Nanjing to try my luck again. I never expected to see you a few days ago—though you left too quickly for me to catch up. Then I remembered our old way of contacting each other—putting coded messages in the newspaper every day to arrange a meeting.
I waited here for four days, nearly gave up. I thought you’d never seen the message. Honestly, I was desperate—after seven years, how could you remember our old code? Yet you really came! Heaven must have taken pity on me—after all these years, I’ve finally found a comrade!”