Chapter 59 Technical Guidance

Chapter 59: Technical Guidance

Nearly a month had passed since the nine full-time police officers of the Special Operations Division reported to the station. They immediately began covert activities within the International Settlement and the French Concession, mingling with the patrol officers at the police precincts—smoking, drinking, and building relationships—secretly negotiating cooperation.

Having money on hand made things easier. Upon hearing that the Special Operations Division was willing to pay substantial informant fees, the patrol officers naturally did not refuse this additional income.

Even within the precinct, there was a hierarchy. Among the patrol officers in the International Settlement and French Concession, those of British and American descent received the highest salaries, followed by Indian officers, then Chinese officers, with Vietnamese officers earning the least—barely enough to get by, but their work was relatively stable.

Currently, Chinese patrol officers earned 32.7 French francs per month, while Vietnamese patrol officers earned 31.5 francs, their pay roughly comparable.

The Special Operations Division made its terms clear: provide intelligence on relevant suspects, assist with surveillance, and facilitate arrest operations. Participation in arrest activities was voluntary, and the division promised strict protection of informants’ identities.

“We’re offering generous rewards, and the patrol officers have provided quite a few leads. Our men have been divided into four groups, taking turns to keep watch day and night. So far, no valuable suspects have been identified. We’re still short on manpower!” Chang Weigang reported.

“Relying solely on Special Operations personnel to target suspects in the vast expanse of the International and French Settlements is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Your approach is flawed,” came the critique.

“How about this: gather everyone together, and I’ll provide you with technical guidance. You need to learn how to make full use of the resources at your disposal. It seems you don’t fully understand the strategy I’ve devised,” Xu Ruiyang said.

The Japanese were not anxious—they had only been at this for a month—but Xu Ruiyang himself was impatient.

Wang Jingwei was on the verge of establishing a puppet regime, and if they failed to make progress soon, Ding Mucun and Li Shiqun would seize the lion’s share of resources, which would be detrimental to future operations.

The Special Operations Division was an organization he had founded with his own hands, a chance granted by the chaotic times. He was determined to not only secure what was within reach but also extend his influence further.

Before the detective team achieved any results, he needed to break new ground. Although the Military Intelligence Bureau had long sought to assassinate Wang Jingwei, Xu Ruiyang believed that was a difficult task.

To infiltrate the core of the puppet government and obtain vital intelligence for the organization and the Military Intelligence Bureau, consistent achievements were essential.

An hour later, the Special Operations Division’s first professional skills training session commenced.

“Don’t expect to find your targets on your own in the millions-strong settlements. What we need is to expand our intelligence sources, and that can only be achieved with the help of the patrol officers. They are most familiar with the personnel changes within their respective districts.”

“Some of these veterans have worked in the precincts for decades, even half their lives. They interact daily with local residents, accumulating rich experience and keen intuition—especially in identifying suspicious individuals. If they suspect someone, there is a high probability that person is truly problematic.”

“To motivate them, starting from the first of next month, the Special Operations Division will provide fixed subsidies to those who supply numerous leads and cooperate actively. The base salary will start at thirty francs per month, with increases for outstanding performance.”

“You must infer the plausibility of suspicions through certain indicators. No matter how well a cover identity is maintained, some commonalities always emerge. When observing, you need to discern these patterns.”

“For example, someone acting furtively when leaving or returning home, paying close attention to their surroundings; someone who stays at home without working yet sustains a high standard of living in the settlements; or someone who regularly appears at certain public places but has no direct or indirect connection to them.”

“Agents in the settlements all have cover identities—some even disguise themselves as rickshaw pullers or fruit vendors. Remember, their cover must be mobile. Fixed-location jobs hinder assembly and raise suspicion.”

“Compile the information provided by the patrol officers, secretly photograph these individuals, record the people they interact with daily and the places they visit. Look for overlaps—especially if they appear at fixed locations at set times, meet certain people, yet seem unrelated on the surface.”

These crucial skills were distilled from Xu Ruiyang’s experience at the police academy and security bureau. He shared them openly because his role was different.

As head of the Special Operations Division, he rarely needed to act personally unless for exceptional cases. His responsibility was to fully control the division; in this territory, his word was law.

Returning home at dusk, no sooner had he parked the car than Wu Yaqing emerged from the living room, a smile on her face.

“Ruiyang, guess who’s here?” she said cheerfully.

Xu Ruiyang stepped inside and was surprised to see Song Haifeng sitting on the sofa, drinking tea. His heart stirred—finally, a connection with the organization.

“Teacher, when did you arrive?” Xu Ruiyang put down his briefcase and sat opposite Song Haifeng.

“I arrived in Shanghai yesterday. I even went to the police station to look for you, but they told me you were working near Jing’an Temple and had become the head of the Special Operations Division,” Song Haifeng smiled.

Dinner was a simple homemade meal shared by the three—teacher and students. Wu Yaqing took the initiative to call home and arranged for a driver to pick her up.

“Yaqing was a shining star at Central University. I never expected she would ultimately fall into your hands. How is she doing now?” Song Haifeng asked, smiling.

As their teacher, he naturally knew about their relationship. Though Wu Yaqing came from a salt merchant family, she was pure and untainted—a very good girl without the spoiled temperament of a wealthy heiress. She was kind-hearted and progressive in her thinking.

“She joined the peripheral organization of the Three Youth League and often went to the settlements for fundraising activities. Using my connections at the U.S. Consulate General in Shanghai, I arranged for her to work at the Ministry of Industry and Commerce, so she mostly stopped participating in those activities,” Xu Ruiyang explained.

“When did you start associating with the U.S. Consulate in Shanghai? Did you assist American spies in the border regions, transferring that cooperation to Shanghai?” Song Haifeng was greatly astonished.

He was not surprised that Wu Yaqing joined the Three Youth League, as their anti-Japanese, national salvation rhetoric easily won support among students and youth. Participating in the peripheral organization and contributing where possible was hardly objectionable.

“Yes, they approached me first, renewing the cooperation from the border regions. I’m now their secret informant, responsible for investigating the conspiracies of the Japanese and Wang Jingwei.”

“Since I couldn’t contact the organization, I was reluctant to give up this cooperation. Moreover, sharing intelligence on Japanese invaders with the Americans does not betray the interests of our nation or people, so I agreed. Of course, providing intelligence is contingent on approval from our organization,” Xu Ruiyang stated.

(End of Chapter)