LRAB Chapter 133 It is impolite not to reciprocate.
Chapter 133 It is impolite not to reciprocate.
December 22, 1925, evening.
The study in the Chen Mansion in Shanghai.
Chen Zijun leaned back in his chair, sipping a slightly cool cup of tea, and casually flipped through the coded telegrams from various places on the table.
A pale blue screen quietly appeared on the retina.
[Host: Chen Zijun]
[Unlimited spending system in operation... Current fund acquisition speed: 1.5 pounds/second]
Current available funds: £3,645,800
[Status of Core Assets: Special steel has been secured at Jiangnan Heavy Industry Group's Lishui base; R&D of 150mm heavy artillery has officially entered the precision manufacturing stage; the second batch of special steel smelting has commenced at Ma'anshan blast furnace]
Chen Zijun glanced at it and casually waved away the light screen.
Just then, Shen Li pushed open the door and entered, holding a newly received coded telegram in his hand, a barely suppressed smile playing on his lips.
"Young Marshal, Liu Zhenliang is calling."
"What did you say?"
Shen Li handed over the telegram, which contained only six words: "Steel arrived, the workers are in an uproar!"
Chen Zijun glanced at it, and a smirk appeared on his lips.
Far away in Lishui, as soon as the first piece of special steel was unloaded, Liu Zhenliang's eyes lit up as he pounced on it, circling the dark gray steel ingot three times. Then, he slammed his hand on the casting foreman's shoulder and roared, "Get to work! Everyone, work overtime! The young commander said we'd have a prototype in five months. Anyone who dares to delay even a day will have three months' salary deducted!"
The steelmaking workshop immediately erupted in excitement.
Hundreds of craftsmen surrounded the steel ingot, their eyes filled with piety and fervor.
They made this themselves.
It is a special type of steel made by the Chinese themselves.
……
On the same day, in the afternoon.
Shanghai, the top-secret conference room at the Chen Mansion, with the highest level of confidentiality.
A key meeting regarding the allocation of funds for naval expansion in the second half of the year has just concluded.
The amount involved is £3.2 million. The scope covers the procurement of German-made cruiser blueprints, the expansion of the Jiangnan Shipyard's dry dock, and a new round of Marine Corps weapons replacement programs.
The attendees were all core members of Chen Jiajun's faction, with a total number not exceeding eight. The meeting minutes were immediately locked in a safe, with the key personally kept by Moranzhi.
Unbeknownst to anyone, a person was sitting quietly in a private room of a teahouse just two streets away from the conference room.
He appeared to be around forty years old, with an ordinary face and modest attire. Beside him sat an untouched cup of Longjing tea, the tea leaves sinking to the bottom, completely still.
No one who sees him will give him a second glance.
Just as the last attendee stepped out of the meeting room, he tapped his fingers three times lightly on the tea table.
A moment later, a man with his hat pulled low brushed past him and silently slipped a note onto the back of his hand.
He unfolded the note.
The above is a three-word code.
"The Falcon awakens."
His eyelid twitched.
Finally, the order came from Guangzhou.
……
Late at night, before midnight.
Inside the Military Intelligence Bureau, Moranzhi sat alone in her dimly lit office, with two large stacks of bank account statements and telegram decoding papers in front of her.
She had been working for fifteen hours straight.
The hand suddenly stopped.
She picked up an account book from the table and stared at a number on it.
One minute, two minutes, three minutes.
The list of attendees at the afternoon naval budget meeting was top secret. The content of the meeting would absolutely not be leaked.
but.
One account had a small withdrawal record of 800 yuan exactly two hours after the meeting ended.
Eight hundred yuan is pitifully little. Most people wouldn't even bother to look at such a small amount.
But the more Moranzhi stared at it, the more uneasy she felt.
The account holder was a junior clerk in the meeting room who was responsible for financial records.
This person was kept in the Military Intelligence Bureau's surveillance files for three whole years. Moranzhi knew every single one of his income and expenditures like the back of her hand.
The timing, amount, and purpose of this 800 yuan—none of them make sense.
None of them are correct.
Moranzhi put down the documents, stood up, and spoke with an unusually calm tone.
"Prepare the car, let's go to the Chen residence."
The assistant hesitated for a moment, then glanced at the clock: "Director, it's almost midnight..."
"Now."
……
After midnight.
The study in the Chen Mansion.
Mo Lanzhi laid out the detailed account in front of Chen Zijun and explained the whole matter in less than three minutes.
Clean and concise, without unnecessary words or judgments, only facts.
Chen Zijun didn't interrupt her. After she finished speaking, he was silent for a moment, then looked up.
There was no anger in his eyes.
Some of them are interesting.
"Your judgment?"
"I believe there's a greater than 90% chance this person has connections in Guangzhou," Moranzhi said calmly. "The meeting's contents have already been, or are about to be, leaked, and their target is likely this naval funding."
Chen Zijun slowly picked up the account book, casually put it aside, and a cold smile appeared on his lips.
"How many years has it been buried?"
"Based on the clues, it's been at least seven years." Mo Lanzhi paused, her voice carrying an uncontrollable gravity. "Even the Governor-General didn't notice it back then."
"Um."
Chen Zijun stood up and slowly paced around the study with his hands behind his back.
"Then we can't touch him easily. He's been able to hide for eight years, and even my father didn't use him back then. Do you think he was the only one who did it? Or, how could he have survived for these seven years and even reached his current position, even though he's just a lowly clerk? But the position is very important. Who could have gotten him to this point? By himself alone?"
His voice was casual, yet carried a chilling undertone: "Close the net but don't uproot him. Let him keep moving. See who he contacts and what he wants to do. As for the military funds, create a fake route specifically for him."
"Using a fake route to fish?"
"Yes." Chen Zijun turned around, his eyes sharp as knives. "Behind this fish, there must be a bigger fish that Guangzhou has planted here. I'm going to catch them all in one fell swoop."
A hint of awe flashed in Mo Lanzhi's eyes, and she immediately lowered her head: "Your subordinate understands, I will make the arrangements immediately."
"And one more thing," Chen Zijun said, sitting down again, his tone as casual as if he were ordering dinner, "prepare a big gift for Principal Chang. He's sent people to Shanghai to make moves several times, and I've always respected him as an important figure in the National Revolution, so I haven't bothered with him. But now he's gone too far, even eyeing my military funds, so I have to give him something in return—it's only fair. As for whether he can breathe a sigh of relief after receiving the gift, that's up to his own fate."
Mo Lanzhi was stunned for a moment, then understood what he meant, and her lips twitched violently.
The young marshal's move... was truly ruthless.
"As for the intelligence network in Guangzhou," Chen Zijun raised his head, a deeper meaning in his eyes, "activate it. Let me know where this line leads and who it involves."
"yes!"
Moranzhi turned and strode away, her footsteps disappearing into the corridor.
Silence returned to the study.
Under the lamplight, Chen Zijun casually wrote two words on a piece of white paper, then casually crossed them out.
He knew it very well.
This piece is not the end, but the entrance. Chiang Kai-shek is a man who cannot accept defeat; when he is desperate, he is capable of anything. That is why he revealed this trump card that he had kept hidden for seven years.
Now that it's been brought to light, there's no going back.
……
The next day, at 2 a.m.
A hidden liaison point in Shanghai, a humble room.
The man, who was about forty years old, wrote the secret report with an extremely fine pen by the light of a flickering kerosene lamp. He then put it in a specially made envelope and asked someone to deliver it.
Unbeknownst to him, the moment he got up to open the door, a pair of eyes had been silently watching him all night from the shadows beyond the courtyard wall.
The secret report was sent out overnight.
The telegram beeped through the dark night sky, flying south.
A thousand kilometers away in Guangzhou, Dai Zhijian received the telegram, and a sinister smile appeared on his lips.
"The plan is going smoothly."
Meanwhile, in the study of the Chen Mansion in Shanghai, Chen Zijun, under the light of a desk lamp, casually pushed aside the original text of the telegram that had just been intercepted.
He leaned back in his chair, looked up, and gazed at the deep night outside the window.
The smile at the corner of his mouth was cold and lingering.
"Since you want to play..."
"I'll play a big game with you."
He put down his teacup and tapped his fingers lightly on the table.
"It is impolite not to reciprocate, Principal Chang."
"I wonder if you... are ready?"