Chapter 33

33

One day apart, two places had caught fire for the exact same reason.

Precisely because it seemed so deliberately suspicious, the people keeping tabs on the Commercial Press would definitely turn their gaze to the match factory as well. Treating the match factory as their primary lead, they would naturally slacken their surveillance on the Commercial Press.

After all, Zhang Yuanji had a clean background and aroused no suspicion. Lately, he had been on close and friendly terms with both Asai Sui and Hayashishita. In order to persuade the old gentleman to lend the books, they intended to take things slowly and avoid antagonizing him. Thus, they quickly pulled back their men to investigate the match factory incident instead.

Once the Japanese pulled out, the Axe Gang and Dai Yunong’s people followed suit and left.

Mr. Wang’s assessment was spot-on. To these factions, Shen Po posed no real threat, and they didn’t have enough manpower to waste idling around every day.

Let alone Shen Po, even figures like Zheng Sheng and Zhang Yuanji were essentially non-factors in their eyes.

In fact, even over at the Japanese Consulate, not everyone valued Zhang Yuanji’s book collection as much as Asai Sui did. Most looked down on Asai for going to such lengths just to pry a few books from Zhang Yuanji.

In their view, Chinese civilization was undeniably backward; otherwise, it wouldn’t be on the receiving end of so many beatings. Such primitive civilizations belonged in the trash. Only by “leaving Asia and joining Europe^[1]” like Japan had done could a nation truly transform into an advanced civilization. That being the case, what value was there in preserving the books of a backward culture?

This was all information that Mr. Wang and Feng Yun gradually shared with Shen Po later on.

They had their own information channels.

Back to the present.

The moment the surveillance vanished, Shen Po went out for a stroll.

Being someone who could never sit still, he had nearly lost his mind being cooped up in the hotel for two days. Now, even street vendors selling steamed buns and newspapers felt refreshing to him.

Shen Po didn’t head home, nor did he go to school. Buying a newspaper, he sat down at a roadside stall selling wontons and dumplings. He lazily skimmed through the pages ten lines at a glance, while keeping his ears peeled for the street bustle and local gossip.

Wen Yan couldn’t help but remind him: 【Didn’t Zheng Sheng ask you to help him organize the books?】

Shen Po: 【I can’t tell rare editions from precious volumes anyway. Going there would just get in his way. Going a bit later makes no difference.】

Wen Yan let out a silent sigh of frustration. After being locked up in the hotel for two days, this fellow was now like a bird freed from its cage, completely letting loose.

Shen Po: 【Shh, listen. They’re talking about the match factory!】

Sure enough, at an adjacent table, people were discussing the fire at the match factory from the day before yesterday.

“I heard the Japanese set that fire, just like the one at the Commercial Press!”

“Nonsense! Why would the Japanese set a fire? I say the Green Gang did it. What won’t those scoundrels and hoodlums do? Probably because the factory refused to pay protection money.”

“Shh! You really dare say anything! Lower your voice in public! Though I actually think it might not be the Green Gang this time…”

Everyone chipped in with chatter and speculation, none of them able to make heads or tails of the truth.

Hearing that the Green Gang was taking the blame, Shen Po found it amusing yet exasperating: 【Their impression of the Japanese is actually better than their view of the Green Gang!】

Wen Yan: 【Without personal suffering, one cannot truly empathize. The Northeast is too far from Shanghai, whereas the Green Gang is right here, bullying and lording over them. As the saying goes, distance creates beauty.】

Shen Po scoffed: 【They have no backbone or principles. Even I know that those not of our kind are sure to be of a different mind^[2]. They forgot the Northeast, forgot Jinan^[3], so why haven’t they forgotten that they’re Chinese too?】

Wen Yan: 【When a person only sees their next meal, and the Green Gang is threatening their livelihood, of course the Green Gang is all they see. You cannot demand that everyone possess a broader perspective or a sense of national pride, because within their immediate struggle to survive, there is no room for such things.】

Shen Po was skeptical: 【The countryside where you taught was pretty poor too, but the kids there all seemed to have a broad outlook.】

Wen Yan: 【What you saw was the result, not the cause. A century later, after decades of poverty alleviation efforts, even my teaching there was part of that result.】

Shen Po never liked losing an argument, but this time he couldn’t find a comeback. His lips moved slightly, wanting to say something.

But before he could speak, another commotion broke out nearby.

“Something happened over there!”

“What is it?”

“Looks like a fight between the Japanese and Chinese!”

“Come on, let’s check it out!”

Loving a spectacle, Shen Po quickly wolfed down his remaining wontons in two or three bites and joined the crowd, swept forward in the surge.

After a few dozen paces, the crowd ahead grew thicker, packed several layers deep.

But this was no obstacle for Shen Po. Parting the people with both hands like Moses parting the sea and relying on his youthful vigor, he squeezed his way to the innermost circle. Peeking past the head in front of him, he watched the drama unfold.

A few people were fighting.

What was so interesting about this?

Were street fights in Shanghai ever in short supply?

Greatly disappointed, Shen Po was just about to turn and leave when he heard Wen Yan speak.

【Wait! There seem to be Japanese among them.】

Shen Po turned his head back. Looking closer, sure enough, one side of the brawl consisted of workers, while the other was a group dressed as monks. Yet their robes were clearly not the typical Chinese style, but of Japanese cut.

【Japanese monks looking for trouble? Maybe I should lend a hand.】

Fired up at the sight, Shen Po rolled up his sleeves, ready to dive in.

【Wait, the people watching you were just called off! Besides, the workers aren’t even at a disadvantage!】 Wen Yan quickly stopped him.

If Shen Po drew Japanese attention again by meddling in a brawl, he would have a hard time getting out of it.

Heeding his words, Shen Po reluctantly gave up, though he still cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, cheering and fanning the flames.

“Hit ’em! Hit ’em hard!”

The onlookers around him joined in the jeering.

The workers soon beat the Japanese monks until they were scuttling away with their heads in their hands, the outcome decided.

Just then, several Japanese ronin appeared out of nowhere, drawing their blades and slashing at the workers.

Caught off guard, one of the workers took a slash to the arm, blood gushing out.

Things were no better on the Japanese side, as several of them were beaten by the furious workers right on the spot.

Wen Yan drew in a sharp breath.

【I remember now.】

Shen Po was itching for a fight, dying to jump into the fray himself, and paid little mind to Wen Yan’s words.

【Remember what? Maybe I should go help out. So many people have already jumped in, what’s one more?】

The foreign patrolmen from the International Settlement arrived shortly after.

Stepping in forcefully, they pushed the crowd apart and swung their batons to keep onlookers back.

The crowd quickly scattered. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Shen Po had no choice but to leave with them.

【Head straight to the Commercial Press. We’re running out of time,】 Wen Yan suddenly said.

Shen Po was baffled. 【What do you mean, running out of time?】

Wen Yan let out a sigh.

The Japanese Monks Incident^[4]… why hadn’t he remembered it just now?

This event was the spark that would ignite all the conflicts to come.

And starting today, the Japanese would launch nearly half a month of entanglements and smokescreens, before…

Delivering a heavy, devastating blow to everyone under the night sky of Shanghai.

He explained the historical significance of the incident to Shen Po.

Shen Po’s expression changed as well.

Ever since joining the book-transport plan, he had heard Wen Yan talk countless times about that impending, world-shaking event.

Yet it had not happened after all.

Without having lived through it, there was no tangible reality to it; no matter how much he heard, it was still just a story.

Now, things were different.

Real history was unfolding right before his eyes, and Shen Po had become both a witness and a participant.

He watched as the foreign patrolmen pulled everyone apart, barking orders and threatening beatings, striking several men with their batons. Then the factory manager rushed out, apologizing profusely to smooth things over. In the end, the patrolmen cursed and left, both sides dispersed, and the onlookers broke into hushed discussions.

Shen Po remained standing there in a daze, as if caught in a dream.

【Year twenty-one of the Republic of China, January 18 on the Gregorian calendar. You’re sure you didn’t get the date wrong?】

Using Shen Po’s eyes, Wen Yan gazed at the large vertical characters hanging on the exterior of the factory building.

【Go to the Commercial Press to help Zheng Sheng. Any later and it’ll be too late.】

The books housed in the Oriental Library were countless, and their plan could never be carried out with great fanfare. Even disguised as discarded rubble and masonry, the amount they could transport at night was limited.

Every single night from tonight onward would be precious beyond measure.

Shen Po remained silent for a long time.

Suddenly, he turned and bolted toward the library!

His heart pounded furiously from the sprint, thumping against his eardrums.

Wen Yan felt as if he too could sense the sting of wild wind drawn into the nostrils with each ragged breath, and the jarring shock rattling through the body with every heavy footstep.

From today, the eighteenth, until the end of the month, how much time did they have left?

*

Zheng Sheng was complaining about Shen Po to Old Chen.

Cursing as he loaded two books into a crate, he felt as though his waist no longer belonged to him.

Zheng Sheng could not help letting out a groan.

He was a pampered young master who had never dirtied his hands with hard labor. For the sake of the plan, he had volunteered to his grandfather to help sort through the books here. Yet Shen Po, the instigator of the whole scheme, was out enjoying himself without a care in the world!

Zheng Sheng looked at the bookshelves before him and felt a wave of despair.

When would they ever finish organizing all this?

Speak of the devil.

Shen Po, whom he had muttered about a thousand times over, finally arrived.

Zheng Sheng glared at him, but before he could open his mouth to unleash his tirade, Shen Po beat him to the punch.

“On my way here, I saw Japanese people picking a fight at Sanyou Industrial^[5], and Japanese ronin joined in later. I suspect this was premeditated!”

Zheng Sheng froze for a second. “Shanghai is huge. Aren’t brawls a regular occurrence?”

Even in the concessions, even scuffling with foreigners was not unheard of. Ever since May Fourth, patriotic students and workers occasionally clashed with foreigners. And especially since the September 18th Incident, a fire had been smoldering in countless hearts, needing only a fuse to erupt into a roaring blaze.

Shen Po shook his head. “Do you remember the trigger for September 18th?”

Zheng Sheng knitted his brows and racked his brain. “…Huanggutun^[6]?”

Shen Po said, “The most direct trigger.”

Zheng Sheng replied, “The Japanese used three corpses disguised as Chinese soldiers? Are you saying they’re going to pull the exact same trick in Shanghai and deliberately cause trouble?”

Shen Po asked, “Isn’t that their usual style?”

Zheng Sheng hesitated. “Surely not. Shanghai is, after all…”

Shen Po cut him off impatiently. “Shanghai is, after all, the Paris of the East, an international metropolis, I know, I know! But does that make any difference to ambitious warmongers? The higher the difficulty and the greater the challenge, the more thrilled they get!”

“I agree with Young Master Shen.”

The one who spoke was surprisingly Old Chen, who had remained quiet the entire time.

In reality, he was much younger than Zhang Yuanji, yet in the dim light, his deep wrinkles and stooped back made him look even more weathered. If he stayed silent, he was like a statue fading into the shadows, completely escaping everyone’s notice.

“What happened in Jinan is the best proof. The Nationalist government backed down in the Northeast, and backed down again in Jinan. They are starving wolves. Taking one bite at a time is just posturing. Until they swallow every scrap of meat, they will never let it rest.”

Old Chen’s raspy voice echoed through the vast, quiet warehouse. Even with the sun shining brightly outside, Zheng Sheng and Shen Po felt a chill creeping up their spines.

“Then…”

After a long pause, Zheng Sheng spoke up tentatively, at a loss.

“There’s not much we can do either, except race against time. Grandfather gave us ten days to pack up before having workers come in for construction. That should be enough, right?”

No one could answer that question.

Shen Po bent down to help him place a stack of books into a crate.

Old Chen got to work as well, preparing empty crates one by one. He lined the interiors with layer after thick layer of cotton cloth, pressing them flat to prevent book corners from being damaged by bumps during transport.

Even so, cotton cloth had to be padded between every few books, packing the space inside the crates as tightly as possible.

Zheng Sheng was responsible for picking out the most critical rare and unique volumes to pack into the crates first.

Zhang Yuanji had not asked for this. To him, there was no order of priority among these books; in his plan, the library was bound to reopen once the repairs were finished.

But Zheng Sheng and the others knew better.

Once crated and shipped away, these books might remain gathering dust for a very long time, never seeing the light of day.

Therefore, the packing order and which books were transported first were of paramount importance.

“Old Du sent word to me,” Shen Po said. “At midnight, the vehicle will arrive on time at the warehouse’s back door. For the first run, we’ll load two crates of less important books to test the waters. If no one’s watching, we can load four crates tomorrow.”

“So few?” Zheng Sheng frowned. “The crates need padding inside, so one crate can’t hold many books. At this rate, we might not finish moving them by the end of the month.”

Shen Po looked at him in surprise and retorted, “You’re not planning to clear out every single rare and unique copy, are you? Don’t be ridiculous. Your grandfather would fly into a rage long before the Japanese ever noticed. He treats those books like his lifeblood! Right now, our assumption that the Japanese are going to make a move is just an assumption. What if they change their plans and don’t strike in the near future? How can you guarantee you can convince your grandfather? When the time comes, he’ll definitely think we’re thieves within the family, and that it would’ve been better to lend the books to the Japanese!”

Zheng Sheng had a headache. “But every single one of these books is precious. I can’t choose.”

Shen Po said, “Stop nitpicking. Take what we can get. Good enough is good enough!”

According to Wen Yan, they originally wouldn’t have been able to save a single volume, and the entire library would have gone up in flames. Now, they could at least salvage a few crates, which Shen Po felt was already plenty.

Seeing Shen Po roll up his sleeves and get to work, Zheng Sheng followed suit, though he strongly doubted how much those delicate, pampered arms of Shen Po’s could actually lift.

What Zheng Sheng did not know was that Shen Po was looking at him with almost the exact same disdain.

Several hours passed. The sky had turned pitch black, and the three of them had only packed around six crates.

It was not that they were moving too slowly, but after selecting the books for these six crates, each volume had to be wrapped individually in oiled paper before being placed inside. Once packed, the crates had to be sealed, marked, tagged with sealing strips, and moved to the corner, ready to be hauled away that night alongside the discarded stone fragments and rubble that had previously been chipped off and brought into the warehouse on purpose.

“Shen Po,” Zheng Sheng called out suddenly.

“What is it!” Shen Po snapped, panting with hands on his hips, completely exhausted.

“I feel like you’ve changed a lot,” Zheng Sheng said earnestly. “Even the way you speak seems to have depth now.”

Shen Po: “…”

For a moment, he could not tell if Zheng Sheng was mocking him.

Zheng Sheng scrutinized him, weighing his words. “Could it be that you…”

Under his gaze, Shen Po felt inexplicably guilty. The things he had said earlier were indeed words he had heard Wen Yan repeat often and adopted as his own; you could even call it outright plagiarism.

Zheng Sheng knitted his brows, lost in thought. “Could it be that you’ve been playing dumb all along?”

Shen Po: “…What do you mean by that?”

Inside his mind, Wen Yan burst into earth-shattering laughter.