In the hidden back room behind Dr. Wu’s clinic, Wen Ying stood beside the empty bed where Fan Yong-Hao took his last breath. Today was the first time she had returned since he passed away.
Fan Da Ge, rest in peace, she said silently to him. We won’t let you down. We’ll continue fighting the Japanese. We’ll win our country back for sure.
“Wen-Ying.” Yao Kang stepped in. “You’re here.”
Wen-Ying didn’t answer. She kept her stare at the empty bed.
Yao Kang sighed and came next to her. “Fan Da Ge left us so soon. We’re all inconsolable.”
Wen-Ying touched the top of the blanket. She wanted to bring him back. She didn’t know all the pain of losing Fan would flood back like a giant wave when she entered the clinic again. She almost wished she never had to revisit this place.
Not that she had a choice. Today’s meeting was called by Dai Li himself. Dai Li rarely appeared in person unless the situation was critical. “Do you know why we were summoned here today?” she asked.
“No,” Yao Kang said. “My guess is, maybe Dai Li wants to discuss who will take over as the leader of Tian Di Hui.”
Take over as the leader? Wen-Ying frowned. She didn’t want to think about anyone replacing Fan. Anyway, how could they even be talking about this already? Fan’s body had barely been laid to rest. He was still their First Helm.
Yao Kang raised his knuckle over his mouth and cleared his throat. “I know no one can take Fan Da Ge’s place in everyone’s heart,” he muttered.
An alert went off in Wen-Ying’s head. Why was Yao Kang speaking in such an odd, low voice?
“I would never presume to think I can do anything as well as Fan Da Ge,” Yao Kang continued. “But I also know that he would not want our group of brothers and sisters to flounder. He would want us to unite in spirit, and he would want to protect us from harm while we continue our work.”
Keeping her expression unchanged, Wen-Ying stood still.
“It’s a burden, but I am the White Paper Fan. I’m willing to do Fan Da Ge’s work in his stead.” Yao stared at her. A glint of hunger sparked in his eyes. Hunger that made her think of a lurking tiger within feet of its prey.
“The subject of our next leader is bound to come up. At that time, you will support me, won’t you?” His eyes bore into her.
Was this what Yao Kang cared about right now? Such a shame. Fan had always treated him like a real brother. She dropped her gaze and straightened the corner of the blanket. “It’s too early to talk about this, don’t you think?”
“You’re right.” Yao Kang loosened his expression and dropped his shoulders. “To tell you the truth, I don’t want to think about such things yet either. The problem is, Dai Li’s on his way. I don’t think he’ll allow the resistance in Shanghai to operate without a helm. He doesn’t know Tian Di Hui’s inner dynamics the way we do. If he advocates the wrong person, our missions will be at risk. Our lives will be at risk. So we have no choice but to think about this now, even if we’re still mourning Fan Da Ge.”
Wen-Ying walked away from him and the bed to the center of the room. What Yao Kang said made sense. It was the dark tone beneath his words that troubled her. She raised her eyes again and took a good look at his face. The thirst for power. The desire to be the one at the top. He could barely hide it.
Fan never looked like that. For Fan, power was only something he wielded, not something he wanted.
Yao Kang came beside her. “You’re someone who cares greatly about the big picture too. When the time arrives, you’ll know to support me, won’t you? For the good of Tian Di Hui?”
Would she support him? She couldn’t even get used to the idea Fan was dead. Why would she have thought about who should take his place?
But Fan was dead now. And they would need a new leader. Could Yao Kang step up to the job?
The thought gave her doubt. Yao Kang wanted it too much. The phoniness in his voice when he talked about his concern for Tian Di Hui’s future made her wary. She didn’t like the way he was trying to coax her into supporting him either.
She couldn’t deny his contributions to their efforts though. He, too, had risked his life many times when executing their missions. No one could argue his loyalty to their cause.
Not wanting to commit one way or another, she bowed her head. “We should wait to hear what the Tian Di Hui elders have to say first. My support is inconsequential.”
“You’re too modest,” Yao said. “In Shanghai, you’re the Golden Phoenix. Your words carry weight. Anyway, we all care about each other like brothers and sisters. At this time, we have to support each other. I’m counting on you.”
Not wanting to face him, Wen-Ying kept her stare on the floor. Luckily, Lian jie interrupted them. “What are you two still doing here? Come into the meeting room. General Dai will be here soon.”
“Yes, Lian jie.” Yao gave Wen-Ying a side glance, then put his hands into his pockets and headed to the meeting room next door. Wen-Ying let out a deep breath and followed him.
In the meeting room, Huang Jia-Ming, Fan’s other trusted hand, was already waiting, as were Zhang Yu-Lan and Takeda. When Wen-Ying walked in, Takeda’s eyes lit up. Discreetly, he held her gaze.
Zheng-Xiong, Wen-Ying thought and smiled to herself. A tender warmth rose up her heart.
“Wen-Ying.” Yu-Lan grabbed her hand. Unlike Yao Kang, Yu-Lan’s voice still quivered with sadness. Wen-Ying turned toward Huang. She was about to ask him how he was holding up when she noticed he and Yao Kang had locked eyes. Their demeanors not exactly friendly.
Before she could read the situation, Dr. Wu brought Dai Li into the room. A man with round cheeks and average height followed behind them. Wen-Ying gave the man a quick once over. The only thing distinct about him was how indistinct he appeared. With his passive eyes, unkempt hair, and forgettable face, he looked like any other middle-age laborer or tradesman on the streets.
That, of course, made him a perfect recruit for Dai Li, provided he could be trusted. A perfect agent was one who could pass through the crowd and draw no attention to himself.
With a conciliatory grin, Yao Kang stepped up. “General Dai.”
Dai Li held up his hand to stop him. Dr. Wu withdrew from the room and closed the door. Naturally, Dai Li took the spot at the head of the table.
Wen-Ying turned her head and looked away. That spot belonged to Fan. She didn’t like seeing someone else there, much less someone like Dai Li.
Yao Kang didn’t seem bothered. He came to the side of the table. The rest of them followed. Dai Li acknowledged each of them with a cold, emotionless glance. The indistinct-looking man he brought with him stood humbly behind him.
When Dai Li’s glance landed on her, Wen-Ying stood still and stared right back. She wasn’t afraid of the man. She didn’t work for him. She took directions from him out of respect for the Tian Di Hui elders with whom he had ties, and also because they needed his wide network and resources to fight the Japanese. But she wasn’t his agent or his running dog. With a cold-blooded animal like Dai Li, she wanted to make her position clear.
Make it clear not just to him, but also to herself. Unlike him, she still had a conscience. Whatever she might have to do to achieve their end, and however much she had to make deals with the likes of Dai Li, she would not lose sight of the things that were most important.
At the head of the table, Dai Li began to speak. “Fan Yong-Hao passed away at his prime. I feel the deep loss too.” He paused to let the words sink in. “Nonetheless, we must continue what we need to do. There is no time to mourn, as a new situation has come up.” He shifted his eyes at Takeda.
Takeda took the cue. “On the evening of the Autumn Festival, Kwantung Army Lieutenant General Yoshiro Kazuki will be a special guest of Wang Jing-Wei’s minister of trade and commerce, Liu Kun. Liu invited Kazuki to dinner at his home to celebrate.”
Wen-Ying winced. Liu Kun. Shen Yi’s husband. The traitors who now lived in the former Yuan villa.
Kazuki. The crueler-than-beast murderer under whom thousands were raped and massacred in Nanking.
They invited that Japanese demon into her old home.
“Tang Wei, secretary of propaganda for Wang’s administration, will be there too,” Takeda said.
Tang Wei! Wen-Ying clenched her fist. How could he? Her brother went to secondary school with him and worked with him. He saw Tang as one of his closest friends, until Tang turned and became a collaborator.
Inhuman. All of them.
“I’ll be joining them that night as Kazuki’s official translator,” Takeda continued. “And unofficially, to observe and monitor Liu Kun.” He tensed and lowered his voice. “This will be our chance to assassinate Kazuki.”
Assassinate Kazuki? Wen-Ying raised her clenched fist.
“And to punish the traitors,” Dai Li added. “We’ll get rid of all of them.”
Wen-Ying held her breath. She despised Liu Kun, Shen Yi, and Tang Wei. But get rid of them? Shen Yi, who she knew since birth? Tang Wei, who she once looked up to as much as she did her own older brother? Could she?
Her heart pounded.
Yes. She could.
Her breaths calmed. Slowly, her chest and shoulders eased.
Liu Kun and Shen Yi betrayed their own people. Getting rid of them would be a deliverance of justice on behalf of Heaven.
And Tang Wei? A bitter smile came to her face. She wanted him dead more than anyone else. If he hadn’t joined Wang Jing-Wei’s regime and become a puppet for the Japanese, Mei Mei would still be here today.
They all deserved to die.
Let them all go to hell.
“On that night, when they’re full with food and drunk with alcohol, we will trap them in the dining room,” Dai Li said. “And then, we’ll burn down the house.”
Burn down the house?
The words knocked Wen-Ying over like a blast of wind. Her old house. The last standing monument that could still remind her every day that her family once proudly held its place in this city. This country.
Her body shivered, though no one noticed. Dai Li waved his hand for the man he brought with him to come forward. “Bao Gong, say your greeting to everyone.”
Bao Gong?
Bao Gong was what people called the legendary Song Dynasty magistrate Bao Qing Tian. Bao was his surname. Gong was how one generally addressed an old man who was a respected elder. The legendary Bao Gong’s fame arose from his exceptional skills in administrating justice.
The man who Dai Li called stepped up to the table. “Pleased to receive your advice,” he said. His humble tone and deliberate manners contrasted sharply with his rough exterior.
“Bao Gong has been Liu Kun’s head cook for fifteen years. Everyone calls him Bao Gong. He makes phenomenal steam buns.” Dai Li’s face cracked a rare smile. “Liu Kun takes a lot of pride in having him in his kitchen.”
So that was it. A play on words. Bao also meant buns, so Bao Gong could literally mean “Elder Bun.” Those who knew this man must have given him this nickname as a compliment to equate his bun-making skills to the historical Bao Gong’s excellent skills as a judge.
Haung’s stomach growled. Yu-Lan stifled a chuckle and the atmosphere in the room eased.
“Bao Gong has been working for me for four years,” Dai Li continued. “Because of him, we know Liu Kun’s every move.”
Wen-Ying peered at the cook. This man was a mole? Everywhere, people were starving. Someone like him should be deeply loyal to Liu Kun. He should be thankful for having a job with a still prosperous household. Why was he risking his own fortune?
Dai Li. This omnipotent mastermind. Bao Gong didn’t look coerced. What did Dai Li do to convince the cook to switch to their side?
“Boa Gong will make the fire look accidental like it came from the kitchen,” Dai Li said. “Your group will be in charge to trap the targets and set the house on fire.”
“What about the maids and houseboys? And the kitchen staff?” Wen-Ying asked. The house wasn’t merely a structure. When she lived in that big mansion, her family had a house full of servants. Together, they all gave the mansion a living, beating heart. The stories of their lives formed its spirit and soul.
“To the extent he can,” Dai Li said, “Bao Gong will hustle the servants and staff out of the house to spare their lives. However, we will not hold our plan for them. Hopefully, they’ll come out of this alive.”
Wen-Ying wrenched her fingers. So not only the house would be destroyed. There could be casualties. Her glorious old home would soon be a living cemetery where demons and innocents would be burned alive.
She shuddered at the thought.
Fan Yong-Hao always regretted missions that risked innocent lives, even though he couldn’t avoid them. No one was ever as troubled about hurting the innocents as Fan. Maybe the others were too preoccupied with the failure or success of each mission to pay attention to anything else. But she could always see the guilt eating Fan up inside. Each time innocent people died at his hand, an invisible weight bore him down. Heaven had spared her from having to join them to carry out their missions and feel such torment. But they all took a vow to be brothers and sisters. Why was she allowed to escape the guilt?
Dai Li glanced at her, as though he had read her thoughts. He reminded everyone, “To take out Kazuki, sacrificing a few lives will be unavoidable.”
“You said to trap them and set a fire,” Huang said. “How will we get our people in there to do that?”
“Zhang Yu-Lan,” Dai Li directed the question at the only other woman in the room.
Yu-Lan straightened her back. “The Lius and my family are well acquainted. Earlier in the week, when Shen Yi came to my house to play mahjong with the ladies, she was boasting about General Kazuki coming to her home for dinner on the night of the Autumn Festival. I paid her a visit yesterday. I suggested she hire the entertainment troupe who performed at my grandfather’s sixtieth grand birthday banquet.” She looked nervously at everyone at the table. “The troupe members aren’t only performers. They’re our secret agents. Performing is their way of infiltrating the collaborators’ homes to gather information about the houses they live in, who they associate with, and anything else we might want to know. Sending them to the homes of Wang Jing-Wei’s high officials is something I’ve been doing for the past year.”
“You never told us this.” Wen-Ying raised her brows. Yao Kang and Huang Jia-Ming, too, widened their eyes.
“Fan Da Ge thought the fewer people knew, the better.” Yu-Lan ducked her head.
Dai Li spoke again. “The performance will be in three acts. First, a duet by two Peking opera singers. Then, a solo guqin concert, followed by a mask changer. There will be supporting musicians, as well as make-up artists. We need you to gather Tian Di Hui members to fill the roles of prop movers, runners, and assistants that night.”
“You mean we’ll be imposters,” said Huang.
“Yes. Some Tian Di Hui members will enter Liu Kun’s home as part of the troupe. Others will enter as temporary kitchen help. This will get you all past the security guards. Kerosene will be delivered to the house throughout the week before that night as part of ordinary kitchen supplies. Bao Gong will see to it the fuel is properly received. During the performances, you will subdue the guards surrounding the house, spread the kerosene, and set the house ablaze. You will set fire to all the doorways except for your own predetermined escape route so that no one in the dining room can escape.”
No one in the dining room? “What about Takeda?” Wen-Ying asked.
“I’ll find an excuse to leave the room before they realize the house is on fire.” Takeda said before anyone else could answer.
“Not only him,” Dai Li added. “The fire must be lit at exactly the right time to allow the mask changer to leave the room. His safety is a priority. He’s instrumental to this ruse and we’ll have use for him in the future.”
And just like that, the plan was already in place. Without Fan at the helm, Dai Li had taken the liberty to direct them as he wished.
Quietly, Wen-Ying studied Yao Kang. Toward Dai Li, Yao showed only deference. Every time Dai Li spoke, he nodded in agreement without question. If Yao became their new leader, would their branch of Tian-Di Hui retain any independence?
“General Dai,” Yao Kang said, “You can rest assured. I will definitely handle this matter with great care.”
Dai Li gave him a cold glance. “I haven’t decided who will be in charge yet. This, in fact, is the question I’ve gathered you all here to discuss.”
An instant tension spread through the room. Yao Kang twitched his face, but kept a conciliatory grin. “General, perhaps you’re not familiar with our rules. Since I’m Tian Di Hui’s second in command in Shanghai, naturally I’ll be leading our group now that Fan Yong-Hao has passed—”
“I’m aware Tian Di Hui has succession protocol,” Dai Li cut him off. “Right now, who will take over as your leader is irrelevant to me. The only thing I care about is this plan’s success. I’m still weighing whether I should entrust this mission to you or someone else.”
Yao Kang’s face turned deep red. “Someone else? Who else could handle such a huge, important task?”
Dai Li shot his eyes to the other side of the table. “Huang Jia-Ming?”
Startled, Huang tensed his face. The room turned dead quiet.
This was not good. Wen-Ying threw Takeda a glance. He looked back at her, his eyes reflecting the same worry.
“Do you think you’re up for the job?” Dai Li asked Huang.
Huang pressed his lips. Wen-Ying could see him struggling to find a way to say yes without offending Yao Kang.
“How can he be in charge?” Yao Kang asked, ignoring Huang’s hopeful yet conceding gaze. “I've seen him in action many times. He makes too many rash decisions. His temperament is still that of an immature young man. If we rely on his judgment, he’ll get us all killed.”
“That’s not true!” Huang retorted. “It’s you who will get us killed. You can’t see it when things go awry and you can’t think on your feet.”
“How dare you talk back to me?”
“I’ve held my silence too long. I did it out of respect for Fan Yong-Hao. Now, I can’t idly watch us go down the wrong path.” He raised his head at Dai Li. “General, if you choose me, I will put Kazuki and all the treacherous rats down to death’s floor. I will obliterate that house. I will burn it to ashes.”
Wen-Ying glanced up. Obliterate that house? Burn it to ashes? Who was Huang Jia-Ming to make these bold claims? Did he know that house was a symbol of Chinese prestige in Shanghai? A show of equal wealth and power to the Western foreigners who had taken their land? To let them know the Chinese could still rise?
But all that is gone now…
Silence! She shouted at the voice in her head. And yet, that voice wouldn’t stop. None of that mattered now, did it? It taunted her. In this war-worn city, even the Western foreigners had long since raised their white flag of defeat. What Chinese prestige was there to speak of, when the Japanese had made them kneel at their feet?
“He’s not the right person, General,” Yao Kang pleaded with Dai Li. Wen-Ying glared at him but he didn’t notice. “Please think thrice. Tian Di Hui still stands today because we abide by our rules. If you choose Huang to lead a mission over me, our members will not accept it. If we don’t follow ranks and rules, our organization will fall apart. There’ll be chaos. Our brothers and sisters will rebel.”
“They won’t rebel,” Huang fired back. Wen-Ying threw her glare over to him. “Many of our brothers and sisters have been questioning your ability to lead. Given the chance, they’ll give their support to the right candidate to take the seat of the First Helm. You are not the right person.”
Wen-Ying watched them argue. Neither of them was the right person. At least not the right person to burn down her house. The former Yuan villa was her ancestral home. No one had the right to touch it. Liu Kun and Shen Yi had no right to occupy it. Dai Li had no right to order it demolished. Yao Kang and Huang Jia-Ming had no right to destroy it. If anyone was entitled to take it down, it should be her.
It’s time to let it go. That voice in her head whispered.
Yes. It was time. Let the house do its part to bring an end to this drawn-out, miserable battle against Japan. Let the fire consume and swallow the evil invaders and traitors in a red blazing flame.
But if the house must be obliterated, then let it be burned down by her own hands, on her terms.
“I’ll do it,” she said, interrupting Yao and Huang who were still arguing. Everyone stopped and turned to look at her.
“I’ll do it,” she said again, her voice clear and firm. “I’ll bring our group in to burn Kazuki alive.”
Astonished, they stared at her. Takeda’s mouth fell agape.
Yao Kang recovered first. “What nonsense are you talking about? You can’t lead a plan of attack.”
“Yes, I can. I am the best-suited person for this job. I grew up in that house. I lived there almost my entire life. I know it better than any of you. I know it better than Liu Kun and Shen Yi. When I close my eyes, I can see every door, every hallway, every mark on the wall and every view of the windows. I know every tree and every flower planted outside, only they’re now almost all dead.” She stared straight at Dai Li. “You won’t find anyone who knows better than me how to quickly trap the opponents and the best way to get our people out.”
Dai Lee cocked his head and studied her. A note of intrigue crept up to his eyes. “That makes sense.”
“Wen-Ying.” Huang shook his head. “An attack is very risky. It’s too dangerous for you.”
“I’ll agree with him there,” Yao Kang said to Dai Li. “You can’t choose her. How can we let a woman lead an attack?”
Ignoring them, Wen-Ying kept her gaze on Dai Li. The corner of his lips curled up into a curious half smile as he crossed his arms and rubbed his chin. “I’ve always been impressed by your brother.” He focused his attention on her, ignoring everyone else in the room. “Even if compared to Fan Yong-Hao, Yuan Guo-Hui wouldn’t lose any luster at all. If your brother were here, I would trust him to take the lead without question.”
Hearing Dai Li praise her brother, a sea of sadness stormed inside her. She thought of Guo-Hui all the time. Every day. She didn’t even know if she would ever see him again.
She lifted her chin. If Guo-Hui were here, he would not let anyone else besides him burn down their house. Of that, she had no doubt.
“That house is my ancestral home,” she said, still holding Dai Li’s gaze. “It belongs to my family. No one here has the right to burn it down. Except me.”
“Even so,” Huang said, worries washing over his face, “Liu Kun’s wife knows you, doesn’t she? How will you enter the house? What if she sees you and recognizes you?”
Wen-Ying dug her nail into her palm. How would she hide from Shen Yi? There had to be a way.
“She can be in disguise,” Yu-Lan said. “The opera singers will be in heavy make-up. We can paint her face to look the same as the hua dan, the lead female singer.”
Wen-Ying gave her a grateful smile. Yu-Lan acknowledged it with an encouraging squeeze of her arm.
At the head of the table, Dai Li’s lips widened into a full smile. “Very good,” he said to Wen-Ying. “You have drive. In my eyes, women are not inferior. There are only inferior people.” He glanced at Yao Kang, then turned his sight back to Wen-Ying. “If you’re half as capable as your brother, then you’re more than capable of leading this attack. I’ll leave this in your hands.” He glared sharply at Yao Kang and Huang Jia-Ming. “Are there any objections?”
Huang twisted his lips, then relaxed his stance. “No. I’ll support Yuan Wen-Ying every way I can.” He leaned back and smirked at Yao Kang.
Yao Kang hugged his crossed arms close to his chest. His tight face alternately flushed with different shades of red. Grudgingly, he said, “Since it’s her house, I have no objection. But let me clarify, this is not a permanent arrangement for who will succeed as the head of Tian Di Hui.”
“You can take that matter up with your elders,” Dai Li scowled. He turned back to Wen-Ying. “I’ll leave the details up to you and Bao Gong then.” He put on his hat, and left the room.
The door closed. Beneath the table, Wen-Ying locked her fingers. The burden of what she had volunteered to do had just now begun to sink in. Bao Gong, Huang Jia-Ming, Zhang Yu-Lan, all watched her with anticipation, waiting for her to give them her first word.
At the front of the table, Yao Kang looked like he could slaughter her. For a moment, she almost regretted standing in his way.
Standing beside Yao Kang, Takeda gave her a subtle nod. He smiled at her. Pride glinted in his eyes, and his face glowed with hope. Instantly, her doubts vanished. She didn’t care what anyone else thought. His smile was all she needed. As long as she had Takeda behind her, she could find the strength to go on and do what needed to be done. Nothing else mattered.