After months of bombing and six weeks of Japanese military brutality and massacre, the Japanese authorities were urgently trying to restore Nanjing’s appearance and social economic order. They particularly emphasized the region’s industry, finance, and economics, continuously dispatching Japanese advisors to supervise and control Nanjing’s economy. Through implementing harsh material and tax policies, they forcibly controlled Chinese industrial and commercial enterprises in Nanjing, plundering the people’s wealth and exploiting Chinese laborers. The income was used for Japanese puppet government and military expenses. At the same time, they supported Japanese commercial enterprises, establishing numerous financial institutions and public and private banks, making Nanjing an economic vassal of Japan. Under the control of these series of harsh policies, Nanjing’s order appeared increasingly stable on the surface, and industry and commerce were gradually recovering in a distorted manner.

Zheng Yuan from the Tax Bureau came to report work, reading several new tax items and corresponding policies. He Feng sat at his desk playing with a canary. Whether he was listening or not, Zheng Yuan continued talking to himself as usual—he had long grown accustomed to this economic advisor’s behavior.

“The Baixia Road branch has added six new members—two tax collectors and four tax police. Here’s the list.”

“Sir.”

“Sir.”

He Feng looked up briefly to glance at him. “Finished talking?”

Zheng Yuan stood respectfully with his head slightly lowered. “This subordinate has completed the report.”

“Oh, I see.” He Feng left him standing there and continued whistling at the bird. After a while, he looked at Zheng Yuan again. “Why are you standing there? Is there more?”

“No.” He bowed his head and presented a document with both hands. “This is the list of new personnel. Please review it, sir.”

He Feng casually glanced at the document. “Just put it there.”

“Yes.”

Zheng Yuan carefully set it down and stepped back two paces. “Then regarding the salt tax and—”

He Feng interrupted him. “I understand. Go out.”

“Yes.”

Zheng Yuan silently retreated. Seeing no one in the corridor, he walked away muttering, “What kind of waste is this? Really damn troublesome.”

As the footsteps faded, He Feng straightened up and his expression immediately changed. The taxation was becoming increasingly harsh now—numerous items, enormous amounts, reaching almost perverse levels.

He Feng looked at the listless canary in the cage. When it was delivered this morning, it had been lively and energetic, but now it was sickly and hunched up, looking half-dead. He sighed, feeling he wasn’t much different from it—except his cage was larger and more dangerous.

He Feng opened the cage door to let the bird out, but it was too stupid and blind, still standing motionless. He gently poked its little yellow head with a pen. The bird fluttered up, flew a bit, and circled left and right but couldn’t find the door.

“Stupid thing.”

He Feng took the cage to the window and gently shook it to get the bird near the opening. As soon as the bird found the exit, it whooshed up into the blue sky.

“Stupid thing, don’t get caught again.”

He watched the departing canary, catching sight of a female colleague downstairs in his peripheral vision. The female colleague was looking up, also watching the bird. He Feng leaned against the window railing and whistled flirtatiously at her. The female colleague lowered her face and quickly entered the office building.

He Feng chuckled softly, threw away the cage, grabbed his clothes, and left.

…

A few days ago, Japan had established the China Expeditionary Army General Headquarters in Nanjing, with many new important military personnel taking office. He Feng had been good at gatherings and drinking when he was in Northeast China, mixing well with a group of devils and extracting much important intelligence. In Nanjing, he continued to thrive in the same way.

In the evening, He Feng had dinner with several “friends”—seven people in total. Four of them were Chinese, all working in the puppet Renovation Government, a group of complete traitors. There was also one from Xinjing, He Feng’s old acquaintance Hanada Mi.

Because he controlled the economy, many high officials would curry favor with him, seeking connections for profit. Today there was a new face—Manager Cheng, newly appointed at Pukou Railway Works. He kept flattering He Feng, constantly toasting him. Unfortunately, He Feng’s alcohol tolerance was too good, so in the end, Manager Cheng got drunk himself.

After dinner, they scattered in twos and threes to go home.

Manager Cheng still followed He Feng, wanting to invite him to a comfort station to find girls.

Hanada Mi swayed and pointed at Manager Cheng, laughing, “Mr. Koike has… has a girlfriend, and she’s General Fujita’s… beloved daughter.”

Manager Cheng waved his hand. “So what… she’s not here. My wife is also in Beiping… Men, you know, we all understand.”

He Feng put his arm around his shoulder. “Looks like you go there often.”

Manager Cheng chuckled. “Not often, occasionally, occasionally.”

He Feng didn’t go to the comfort station with them, instead going to a nearby bathhouse to soak for a while, mainly wanting to have a good chat with Nakamura from the special service team.

After drinking, it was easy to extract information, and with the hot steam, everyone became more talkative. Without He Feng needing much guidance, Nakamura voluntarily revealed something—a Communist underground party member had defected and would be coming from Shanghai next Monday. It was said he had destroyed two underground liaison stations in Shanghai and captured five underground party members. This time he was also bringing a gift—an important intelligence network in Nanjing.

It was getting late, so they stayed there for the night.

Manager Cheng thought He Feng was afraid of rumors and that’s why he didn’t go to the comfort station, after all, his girlfriend had a very famous father. So he very tactfully handpicked an extremely beautiful Japanese woman to send to him.

He Feng had been distracted the whole time, worried something might happen to Xie Chi. Just as he was about to change clothes and leave, a woman in a kimono was sent in.

He stopped his movements and stood in the center of the room, looking down at the woman kneeling on the floor. “What’s your name?”

“Hanako.”

“Come here.”

Hanako smiled and stood up. She was quite happy to serve such a handsome man. She walked toward him with seductive eyes and a shy expression, taking small steps. Just as she was about to reach him, He Feng suddenly grabbed her neck and pressed her down to kneel.

It really hurt!

Hanako’s face went pale, her head pressed to the floor. “Sir, I… what did I do wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong.” He Feng poured a cup of wine, drank half of it, and poured the remaining half on her head.

Hanako trembled in fear.

“Do you know me?”

Hanako shook her head vigorously.

“No wonder you could smile.” He Feng poured another cup of wine. Seeing his clothes hanging nearby, he walked over while drinking, pulling the belt from his trousers.

Hanako stole a glance at him and felt something was wrong. Although she was new to this business and hadn’t served many clients, she had heard about some customers’ strange methods. She had been lucky so far and never thought such misfortune would befall her.

“They didn’t tell you about my preferences, did they?”

Hanako heard the sound of him snapping the belt and felt chilled to the bone.

“Make a sound, and I’ll hit you one more time.”

A chill ran down Hanako’s spine. She kept kowtowing. “Please spare me, sir, please, I beg you to spare me.”

He Feng heard her head hitting the floor with thudding sounds and casually threw the wine cup behind him. It landed on the soft carpet and rolled slowly to the wall.

Hanako began to sob, her shoulders shaking with fear.

He Feng sighed softly. “I haven’t even started, what are you crying for?”

Hearing this, Hanako pressed her lips together, not daring to make another sound.

“Get out.”

Hanako thought she had misheard and looked up at him. As soon as their eyes met, she immediately lowered her head again. “Thank you, thank you.”

She tremblingly stood up and backed away two steps before turning to leave hurriedly. Before reaching the door, she heard a cold voice behind her.

“Wait.”

Before she could react, crack—the belt struck her back. She was whipped forward and fell down, her forehead hitting the sliding door, immediately becoming dizzy.

He Feng looked down at her back and smiled coldly, saying cheerfully, “My hand was itching without hitting once. Now scram.”

Hanako’s entire back was numb. Ignoring the pain, she hurriedly got up and stumbled out in panic.

Manager Cheng heard the commotion from next door and came over pulling up his pants, seeing the woman fleeing in panic. “What happened?”

Hanako didn’t answer and ran away crying.

He Feng’s door wasn’t closed. Manager Cheng peeked in and saw him wiping his belt.

He Feng glanced at him sideways with a displeased expression. “Find a tougher one next time. She started crying before I even began. How can you play like that?”

“…”

…

The shop had received a new batch of fabric, and Xie Chi was busy organizing it when the phone rang.

A’Ru ran over to answer it. “Hello, Bai Zhi Tailor Shop.”

Silence on the other end.

“Hello, Bai Zhi Tailor Shop. How can I help you?… Hello… Are you still there?”

The line was connected, but the other party never spoke. A’Ru hung up the phone and muttered while continuing to organize fabric.

Xie Chi was recording in her notebook and casually asked, “What was that about?”

“Don’t know what they wanted. They didn’t say anything or hang up.”

Before she finished speaking, the phone rang again.

Just as A’Ru was about to go over, Xie Chi said, “I’ll get it.”

She walked to the counter with her notebook and picked up the phone. “Hello.”

Still no sound.

Xie Chi’s fingers curled slightly.

After half a minute of connection, the call was hung up. Neither party said a word, but this brief silence was worth more than a thousand words.

She put down the phone and returned to the shelf contentedly to continue working.

A’Ru stood on a high stool. “Who was it?”

Xie Chi examined the fabric and recorded unhurriedly. “Wrong number.”

“They still didn’t say anything?”

Xie Chi didn’t answer.

“They’re not deliberately playing pranks on us, are they?” A’Ru jumped down from the stool and clapped her hands twice. “If they call again without speaking, I’ll give them a piece of my mind.”

…