Chapter One: The Pawn Crossing the River

Chapter One: The Pawn Across the River

Autumn, 1936. Shanning City.

The fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month.

Mid-Autumn Festival.

Night.

A gentle rain pattered against the soaked ground, thick black clouds obscured the bright moonlight, and the oppressive sky pressed down like a suffocating weight. The streets were deserted.

Through the rain, Baize Shao, cloaked in a raincoat and carrying a chill with him, knocked rhythmically on the door of No. 32 Ping'an Road.

With a creak, the door opened. A man in his forties stepped out. Upon seeing Baize Shao, he nodded, then cast a wary glance at the silent, shadowy street before closing the door behind him.

"Xiao Bai, why are you here? Have you forgotten our operational rules? You are not supposed to come here—only wait for my contact." The middle-aged man’s tone was stern.

"Mr. Li, I know the organization’s underground protocols," Baize Shao explained quickly, "but the situation is urgent, and since you mentioned you’d be leaving Shanning for a while tonight, I had no choice but to take the risk and come."

"Don’t worry, Mr. Li, I made sure I wasn’t followed," he added.

"Alright, just this once. Tell me what's happened," Mr. Li relented, recognizing the need for flexibility in emergencies.

"Mr. Li, you know that a few days ago, the military academy decided our graduating class’s assignments. Though not yet announced, the results are largely set. But now an unexpected problem has come up, and I had to consult the organization," Baize Shao began.

"What happened? Has your posting changed? That shouldn’t be—your grades are the best of your class, both academically and in fieldwork," Mr. Li frowned. He was leaving Shanning that night precisely because of Baize Shao’s situation.

According to previous plans and standard procedure, Baize Shao was to join the Nationalist frontline forces. The unit he would join was currently encircling their own party’s troops. With Baize Shao’s outstanding abilities, his placement there could play an unimaginable role in breaking the Nationalist blockade.

For this reason, as the head of Shanning’s underground organization, Mr. Li risked leaving to personally arrange the transfer of Baize Shao’s organizational ties with his superiors.

There was another reason: Baize Shao was his direct recruit, always in single-line contact with him. Under Mr. Li’s guidance, Baize Shao had taken up the revolutionary path—they were both mentor and friend to each other.

So, when Baize Shao spoke of an unexpected development, Mr. Li grew anxious.

"It’s precisely because I’m the top of our class that there’s a problem," Baize Shao said, with a trace of helplessness and bitterness.

As a passionate young man in troubled times, who wouldn’t dream of earning honors on the battlefield? Yet now, he faced a painful choice: loyalty to his faith, or to his own heart.

"This afternoon, the director of the academy’s Training Department, Liu Peiru, called me in," Baize Shao continued. "He said my comprehensive performance is outstanding, that I’m a promising candidate, and wants to recommend me to the Secret Service. He only gave me one night to consider—it’s report to him tomorrow or nothing."

The Secret Service—a notorious agency, infamous for its ruthless pursuit and execution of Red Party members.

"Liu Peiru… He’s one of the core members of the Secret Service, shrewd and calculating. Why would he approach you now of all times?" Mr. Li mused, puzzled.

"I have no idea. I’ve never had dealings with Liu Peiru at the academy. But Mr. Li, what do you think I should do?" Baize Shao asked, looking at him intently.

"What are your thoughts?" Mr. Li asked, brow furrowed.

"Do I have a choice? Liu Peiru appears to give me a night to decide, but as soldiers, obedience is our duty. I suspect everything is already arranged, and this so-called talk was merely a formality," Baize Shao replied firmly. "It’s just that the formality is grander than usual."

"You’re right," Mr. Li paced several times before stopping. "Xiao Bai, you don’t have to join the Secret Service. The organization will respect your decision. If you choose not to, I can arrange for you to leave Shanning tonight. With your talents, you can serve our cause anywhere."

"Mr. Li, there’s no need," Baize Shao shook his head, declining the offer. "I’ve decided to join the Secret Service. Though it means I won’t earn glory on the battlefield, my role within the Secret Service could have an even greater impact."

"Are you certain?" Mr. Li asked again, gratified yet cautious.

As Baize Shao had said, joining the Secret Service would make an even greater contribution to their cause—it would be like driving a stake into the enemy’s very heart. Such opportunities were rare.

"I’m certain," Baize Shao nodded resolutely.

"Do you understand? Once you join the Secret Service, your life will constantly be at risk. Your enemies will be ruthlessly cunning, traps will await you at every turn, and you will face all these dangers alone, like a pawn that has crossed the river—there is no turning back, only moving forward until death," Mr. Li said gravely.

"A pawn across the river…" Baize Shao suddenly chuckled. "Mr. Li, that’s quite an apt metaphor. A pawn is but a single soldier—without crossing the river, it cannot achieve anything. But once crossed, it never turns back. In these turbulent times, once a choice is made, there is no return. It’s do or die."

"Xiao Bai, you…" Mr. Li gazed at the young man’s resolute and smiling face, but words failed him.

"Don’t worry, Mr. Li. This pawn will survive to see the day the dragon is slain," Baize Shao said with confidence, then added with a smile, "Mr. Li, what do you think of 'Pawn Across the River' as my codename?"

"That will do. Since you’re about to join the Secret Service, for your safety and for the struggle ahead, you need a codename. 'Pawn Across the River' it is," Mr. Li decided after a brief thought.

"But I have a few words for you—advice and warning," Mr. Li said, patting Baize Shao’s shoulder and sitting down opposite him.

Baize Shao straightened, prepared to listen.

"Xiao Bai, wherever you are, be loyal to your faith and hold fast to your principles. In action, always think twice, be bold yet meticulous. Lastly, take care of yourself," Mr. Li said simply but solemnly.

"I’ll remember, Mr. Li. I should go," Baize Shao glanced at the time—it was getting late, almost lights-out at the academy. He rose and made for the door.

As he opened the door, Mr. Li’s voice sounded again behind him: "Xiao Bai, take care of yourself. I’ll be waiting to see you, the little pawn, slay the great dragon one day."

"I will," Baize Shao replied with a faint smile, then left.

Because of this sudden development, Mr. Li had to adjust his previous plans. Though he no longer needed to leave Shanning, he had to send a telegram to his superiors.

Once Baize Shao was gone, Mr. Li went upstairs, activated the radio, and sent the news, awaiting instructions.

As he waited, unease gnawed at him. He paced to the window and looked out into the pitch-black night where not a soul stirred, but the anxiety in his heart only grew. Since Baize Shao left, an ill premonition had taken hold; he felt as if something was about to happen.

Outside, the rain intensified, its drumming audible even indoors.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep!

The radio came to life. Pushing aside his worries, Mr. Li hurried to receive the incoming orders.

Meanwhile, two blocks from Ping'an Road, three dark green military trucks and a black sedan pulled up at a corner. A group of agents in raincoats swiftly disembarked.

The sedan’s door opened. The driver quickly raised an umbrella, and from within stepped a middle-aged man in a Zhongshan suit—Liu Peiru. He glanced at the miserable weather, but his mood was uncommonly good.

After all, he was about to capture Mr. Li, the Red Party leader in Shanning. Who would expect the Secret Service to launch such a major operation on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, a time for family reunion, and in such weather?

For secrecy, the arrest plan was known only to a handful—even the action squad trailing him didn’t know their target was Shanning’s Red Party chief.

"Uncle, why are we here tonight?" a young man asked curiously as he got out of the car.

"Patience, soldier. You’ll see soon enough," Liu Peiru replied, then turned to his men. "Begin the operation. Try to take prisoners, but if there’s resistance—kill without mercy."

His cold, murderous words made the night feel even more chilling and blood-soaked.

Click—click.

Bullets were chambered. The action squad moved silently toward their objective, water splashing in their wake. Under cover of darkness, on the quiet street, they were like executioners risen from hell, swiftly surrounding No. 32 Ping'an Road, where Mr. Li was inside.