Chapter Forty-Four: The Arrival of the Central Inspection Team

Stepping out of the warehouse and seeing the long-missed sun, Zhang Mingyang felt warmth suffuse his entire body, bringing him comfort. Having been confined for three days, Hui Jun, worried about his health, insisted on dragging him to the infirmary for a full checkup.

At the base hospital, several doctors examined Zhang Mingyang repeatedly. Only when every machine showed he was perfectly fine did they finally let him leave. When he returned to his dormitory, a large box sat at his door, filled with all his personal belongings. During the investigation, not only had he been locked up, but his dorm had suffered as well—everything had been turned inside out and his possessions sealed away.

“It seems I’ll have to tidy up myself.”

He hefted the box and carried it inside, carefully sorting through every item, afraid to miss anything. He was busy until nine in the evening before the dormitory regained some semblance of its former order. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was already nine o’clock; the cafeteria would be closed by now, so he’d have to go hungry tonight.

A sudden knocking broke the silence.

Zhang Mingyang hurried to open the door.

Outside stood Qian Zhongshu, Lin Guangming, and Hui Jun, the latter holding several bags of food.

“What brings the three of you here?”

Hui Jun carried the food inside. “You didn’t go to the cafeteria, so we guessed you hadn’t eaten. Old Lin personally called the small kitchen and got you some cooked dishes.”

Staring at the bags of food and then at the three men at his door, Zhang Mingyang stood dumbfounded, at a loss for words. Since his release, he’d heard how his teacher had nearly rebelled to save him; how Old Qian had punched Security Bureau officers; and how Hui Jun had almost run himself ragged on his behalf.

Seeing Zhang Mingyang standing there in a daze, Lin Guangming asked, “What’s wrong? Aren’t we welcome here?”

“Of course you are!”

Zhang Mingyang quickly stepped aside and brought out a table and chairs from the corner, inviting them to sit.

Hui Jun placed the food on the table. Lin Guangming pointed to a bag of braised beef and said, “This braised beef is only so-so, not as tasty as your teacher’s wife’s. For now, make do with this. In a few days, I’ll have her send you some.”

As he tasted the braised beef, Zhang Mingyang quietly wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Yes, it’s not as good as hers.”

There was no way his teacher wouldn’t notice such a small gesture. They had spent nearly three years together, and Lin Guangming knew his disciple’s temperament well—outwardly warm and strong, but inwardly cold and repressed, always locking his pain deep within, never expressing it to others.

“Don’t just eat that. Have some of the fried pork and grilled fish too.”

Zhang Mingyang nodded and kept his head down, eating in silence while the other three watched him quietly, none of them speaking.

After a while, sensing the heavy atmosphere, Zhang Mingyang decided to break the silence. “Grandpa Qian, now that the Security Bureau officers are gone, what comes next for us?”

Qian Zhongshu replied, “I’m not sure either. Old Wang said someone from Central is coming tomorrow. We’re to continue our work as usual and not worry about the rest.”

“They won’t be like the Security Bureau people, will they?” Hui Jun asked.

“They shouldn’t be,” said Qian Zhongshu, showing them a message from Wang Bowen on his communicator. “Old Wang says the Central team is here to root out spies, but they won’t interfere with us. Their investigation will be conducted in secret.”

“That’s good,” Zhang Mingyang patted his waist. “I really don’t want to go back to that warehouse. You have no idea—couldn’t stand, couldn’t lie down, absolutely miserable.”

The others burst out laughing.

“It’s true,” Hui Jun added, “When I visited, this kid was curled up like a shrimp, reading a book!”

They all laughed again.

The four of them chatted for nearly half an hour before Lin Guangming suggested they leave to let Zhang Mingyang rest. The others agreed, stood up, and headed for the door. Lin Guangming was the last to leave. He turned and said quietly to Zhang Mingyang, “Mingyang, you should know that your safe release is all thanks to Wang Bowen. Compared to what he did, the three of us did very little. He did a great deal for you. There are things I can’t say, but you should find time to visit him.”

With that, he turned and left.

Watching the three return to their rooms, Zhang Mingyang closed his door and sat down again. He gazed at the food before him, his teacher’s words echoing in his mind, Wang Bowen’s figure appearing in his thoughts. For all Wang Bowen had done quietly for him, Zhang Mingyang felt at a loss.

Ravenous, he ate a bit more, then cleaned up, took a shower, and collapsed onto his bed. After several sleepless nights in the cold warehouse, nothing compared to the comfort of his own bed. Stretching his legs and pulling up the quilt, he soon fell into a deep sleep.

At seven in the morning, outside the dormitory.

“What are you doing?”

Lin Guangming had just come out and saw Zhang Mingyang staring at the sun, thinking he’d gone a bit mad from confinement.

“Teacher,” Zhang Mingyang rubbed his eyes. “I was stuck in the warehouse for days—I haven’t seen the sun in ages. I’m making up for it today.”

“I…” Lin Guangming had never heard of such a method and didn’t know how to respond.

“All right, you keep at it. I have to hurry to breakfast—no telling how busy today will be.”

“Wait! I’ll join you.”

As they walked together, Zhang Mingyang asked, “Teacher, do you mean…?”

Lin Guangming pulled out his laptop, patting it as he replied, “Our work had only just started when we fell behind. Now with this spy incident, time is even tighter. Who knows when it’ll ever end?”

Arriving at the cafeteria, they found a group clustered at the entrance, all watching the distant tunnel. Hui Jun was among them.

“What are you all looking at?” Zhang Mingyang asked.

Spotting him, Hui Jun pointed toward the tunnel. “Over there—our Director Wang is talking with the inspection team from Central.”

Zhang Mingyang looked and saw three men in Zhongshan suits beside Wang Bowen, the leader an elderly man with graying hair.

“They arrived quickly,” he remarked.

Hui Jun nodded. “The logistics folks say they got here around three this morning, sneaking around the base as soon as they arrived. Who knows what they’re up to.”

“All right, everyone inside,” Lin Guangming herded them in. “You all look like you want to try out the warehouse where Zhang Mingyang stayed.”

At this, everyone glanced at Zhang Mingyang. They’d all heard about that place from the logistics department, and the thought sent shivers down their spines—they hurriedly filed inside.

“Teacher, am I famous on the base now?” Zhang Mingyang asked.

Lin Guangming glanced at him, about to answer, then shook his head. “Forget it. Best not to say.”