The Phoenix That Never Reborn (Chapter 1)

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Content

Chapter 1: A Familiar Face Appears

Chapter 2: The Senior’s Return

Chapter 3: The Gdansk Ferris Wheel

Chapter 4: Academic Journey to Europe

Chapter 5: The Bohemian Scavenger

Chapter 6: The Story of the Backup Gun

Chapter 7: Yellowbird Catches Cicada

Chapter 8: The Phoenix That Never Reborn

Chapter 9: The 4×66 Motel

Chapter 10: Yesterday Once More

Chapter 1: A Familiar Face Appears

“A nest of corruption! This is a nest of corruption! What era is this, that we still have such things happening?” The Chairman of the Central Military Commission slammed his fist on the table. The heads of the General Political Department and General Staff, along with the Deputy Director of the General Equipment Department, remained silent as the Chairman continued, “Wasn’t this thoroughly cleaned up already? People were replaced, weren’t they? It’s only been a few years! How can this corruption resurface? And why is the General Equipment Department always the hardest hit?!”

Guan Dongtian, seated in the conference room, stared fixedly at the notebook open before him. He hadn’t written a single word, nor did he lift his head. The notebook was merely a formality – these meetings didn’t require him to speak, nor was there anything to record. But inevitably, a task would be assigned, and that task he would commit to memory. He was waiting for the moment he would be brought into the operation, and he’d already begun weighing potential candidates in his mind.

Bribery, corruption, lining one’s own pockets… Yes, why was the General Equipment Department always the epicenter? Guan Dongtian heard the Chairman’s question, and he was pondering it himself, but he had no answer. “Perhaps it’s simply human nature,” he thought, “a single word: greed.”

The corruption within the General Equipment Department wasn’t Guan Dongtian’s concern. It was the department head leaking vital military intelligence to MI6 that was the problem. The director’s son was a serving officer in the submarine fleet, already a Major, and both father and son had now disappeared. That was the matter Guan Dongtian had to handle. As expected, he was quickly called upon. The Central Military Commission demanded that the All-Army Informationization Commission of the CMC immediately determine the extent of the damage and locate the missing men, or their bodies.

If Hu Xiaowei had defected, the damage he, as a Major, could cause was limited. But the amount of information about the People’s Liberation Army’s equipment that his father, Hu Guowei, had provided to foreign powers was currently unknown. The fact that foreign media hadn’t capitalized on the defection of a high-ranking Chinese military official suggested that the intelligence Hu Guowei had sold was exceptionally valuable.

The All-Army Informationization Commission coordinated with various departments to track the whereabouts of Hu Guowei and his son. It was Hu Xiaowei, who had last been stationed with the submarine fleet, who surfaced first. Defectors typically lay low, even changing identities, leading a quiet life in anonymity. But Hu Xiaowei chose to do the opposite. He suddenly appeared in the Czech media, creating accounts on multiple social media platforms, posting daily updates, and claiming he had no intention of taking his own life. He insisted any threat to his life would be at the hands of the Chinese government. He then updated his status, announcing his journey from the Czech Republic, through Germany and Denmark, and finally arriving in Sweden. Department Two quickly pinpointed the address of Hu Xiaowei’s residence in Gothenburg.

The snow fell heavily outside, blanketing the sudden expanse of fields in white. Two black crows flew across the open ground, landing on the lone tree in the field, shaking snow from its branches. The crows didn’t stay long, disappearing again into the grey sky.

Qiu Tian, wrapped in a large shawl, sat on the sofa in the living room of the cottage, watching the snow fall. A steaming cup of peppermint tea on the table offered a meager warmth to the stark scene. She planned to spend the entire weekend in this remote cottage near Veendam, roughly twenty kilometers from Groningen. The supplies and documents she needed should have arrived on Friday, but the sudden heavy snowfall in the north of the Netherlands had disrupted transportation, delaying her package. It looked like she wouldn’t receive it until Monday morning at the earliest. Fortunately, it was already Sunday afternoon, and tomorrow she would continue her journey, traveling through Germany and Denmark to Gothenburg. She could still enjoy one more night of peaceful solitude in the Dutch countryside.

Director Hao, chief of Bureau Two of the General Staff, authorized this mission to be handled by Section Nine of the Operations Division. He also instructed Sun Quansheng’s team to carry out field operations.

The restructured Bureau Two of the General Staff established an Operations Division – also known as Division Four – which was further subdivided into four sections based on the region of operation. Section One covered Asia and Europe, Section Two handled the Americas and Oceania, Section Three was responsible for Africa and other regions, and Section Nine dealt with major and special assignments. Former Department Two Operations Chief, Dong De, was appointed Director of the current Division Four of Bureau Two, and Qiu Tian was appointed Deputy Director of Division Four, concurrently serving as Chief of Section Nine.

Sun Quansheng’s team had carried out numerous special and major missions abroad, accumulating extensive experience and repeatedly earning commendations. They were considered top performers in Section Nine, and indeed the entire Operations Division. Director Hao’s decision to specifically deploy Sun Quansheng’s team highlighted the importance he placed on this mission.

Given the nature and potential impact of the case, Director Hao instructed Director Dong De to submit the plan to the All-Army Informationization Commission of the Central Military Commission for approval before execution. Guan Dongtian approved the operation plan, but he had alternative considerations regarding the personnel assigned to the mission. Lao Guan understood the reasons why Director Hao hadn’t selected Qiu Tian for such a specialized task, but he decided to proceed with the candidate he’d already weighed up – arranging for Qiu Tian to take on the field work.

Before Qiu Tian departed from China, Guan Dongtian specifically summoned her to his office in Area A, Xishan District. “Let’s not discuss the case itself. You need to be particularly cautious on this operation, especially avoid direct contact with Hu Guowei as long as possible.”

“I understand, Director Guan. Hu Guowei knows my mother.”

“Hu Guowei knew your mother even before he became the department chief, and they were quite acquainted, for over a decade. Your mother sent Wang Fang to the General Equipment Department back then because of that connection – she wanted Hu Guowei to look after Wang Fang during her declassification period. That Hu Guowei, and his son… those two are despicable!” Guan Dongtian stood up and paced for a moment, then turned back to Qiu Tian. “Hu Guowei has never met you, but you bear a striking resemblance to Director Qiu. He’ll recognize you immediately.”

“Understood, Director Guan. I won’t let him see me unless I’m absolutely certain.”

“You must find Hu Guowei through Hu Xiaowei, and you must also prioritize your own safety. Don’t forget to report in to me personally as soon as you return!” Though Guan Dongtian would know the moment she entered the country, he still wanted to hear her voice confirm her safety.

“Yes, Director!”

The doorbell rang. Qiu Tian, toothbrush in her mouth, hurried to the door. The landlady stood there with a cardboard box delivered by a courier service. The large yard was meticulously empty, the main building converted into a guesthouse. The landlady lived in the two-room bungalow on the east side of the yard, close to the gate. The old man, her husband, never came out to greet guests; the landlady handled everything.

As she was about to check out, Qiu Tian invited the landlady inside. The two women exchanged polite greetings. The landlady spoke only a little English, but as the property was close to the German border and hosted many German tourists, her German was fluent. She switched to German, conversing with the Vietnamese woman, who worked at a company in Berlin, and casually surveyed the interior of the cottage.

“It’s colder here than in Berlin. I ordered a coat online, thankfully it arrived early this morning.” Qiu Tian opened the box, revealing a German-brand outdoor winter coat. The dark green color wasn’t particularly vibrant – certainly not to the landlady’s taste – but she thought the Vietnamese woman seemed to appreciate the understated German aesthetic.

“You can leave the empty box here, I’ll take care of it.” The landlady was eager to help.

“Thank you. I’ll finish getting ready and be on my way. I appreciate your hospitality.”

“I hope you enjoyed your stay! It’s a shame the weather hasn’t been cooperative these past few days. But you know, we haven’t seen snow this heavy in years.” The landlady expressed her regret.

“It’s very quiet here, I like that. It’s perfect for a getaway. Unlike Berlin, where you have to queue for a loaf of bread in the morning. By the way, could you tell me where the nearest gas station is?” Qiu Tian asked.

“That depends. Are you going to Groningen, Amsterdam, or back to Germany?”

“I’m going to The Hague.”

“Oh, then turn right out of the yard, drive about three kilometers, and you’ll see the gas station at the roundabout. It’s orange – you can’t miss it.”

“Good, thank you!”

“Then I wish you a safe journey, and hope to see you again!” The landlady offered Qiu Tian a polite smile and shook her hand in farewell.

After returning the rental car to the company in Hamburg, Qiu Tian boarded a train to her destination, now traveling under the guise of a Singaporean tourist. Since Japan and South Korea no longer existed, Liu Botao had fewer options when arranging identities for Qiu Tian.

Qiu Tian didn’t follow her pre-planned route via Copenhagen to Gothenburg. Instead, she spontaneously altered her course, going through Flensburg, Aarhus, and on to Frederikshavn in northern Denmark. From there, she would take a ferry to Gothenburg. Hu Xiaowei had served in the navy, and perhaps he simply loved the sea. His residence in Gothenburg was located in the southwestern suburbs, by the sea at the mouth of the Göta River. As the ferry approached Gothenburg harbor, she would be able to see the small residential area where Hu Xiaowei was temporarily staying. Though called a residential area, it consisted of only seven detached villas, relatively isolated and built on the cliffs. The views were excellent, but it was difficult to approach from the outside. Qiu Tian planned to use the coin-operated binoculars on the ferry as it entered the harbor to observe the residential area and its surroundings from a distance. There would be many tourists interested in the remnants of the fortifications on the cliffs nearby, so her observation wouldn’t attract undue attention.

While waiting for her connecting train at Aarhus station, Qiu Tian saw a breaking news report on the television in the station’s café: a Chinese man named Hu had been murdered in his Gothenburg home. Police were questioning the apprehended suspect, whose motive was unknown, but was confirmed to be acting under the direction of the Chinese government. The news broadcast images of the police investigation at the scene, and the photo of the victim was precisely her target: Hu Xiaowei.

A wave of suspicion washed over Qiu Tian. Because of the delayed delivery of documents and supplies in the Netherlands, her schedule had been pushed back by two days. Had Bureau Two sent someone else in the interim? Impossible. Before Hu Xiaowei was declared dead, his movements might have been a dangerous lure. But now that he was officially dead, that possibility was gone. The most likely scenario was that the British had squeezed every last drop of intelligence out of Hu Xiaowei while he was still in hiding, then staged his “murder” as a crude attempt to smear China. It was just speculation; Qiu Tian had no intelligence to confirm it. And, Hu Xiaowei had undoubtedly gone underground. Intelligence gathering and tracking were the responsibility of other divisions within Bureau Two. Qiu Tian was only responsible for the final execution phase, but now she had temporarily lost her target, couldn’t continue the mission, and wouldn’t be able to question Hu Xiaowei about the whereabouts of Hu Guowei.

For her own protection and to ensure the security of the operation, Qiu Tian routinely went offline from Bureau Two while executing missions, also independently and temporarily altering her plans based on the situation. This had been her consistent practice for years. Now that an unexpected situation had arisen, Qiu Tian was forced to contact Liu Botao to confirm the information’s accuracy.

She glanced at her watch. Her connecting train was due to depart in twelve minutes. “Perfect timing,” she thought. The news report had been timely. Everything could still be arranged, or rearranged. She opened her phone to contact Liu Botao. Using a Singaporean roaming SIM card, it took 77 seconds to connect to the internet. As soon as she was online, she received a system notification: a new email in her inbox. A Singaporean home goods retailer was pushing a 50% off promotion for “YAYOU” brand sandalwood furniture to registered members. This was Bureau Two’s procedural notification for Qiu Tian to evacuate immediately. As Qiu Tian opened the promotional email, the Bureau Two technical team received a system notification confirming she had read the message, indicating she had received the evacuation order. They immediately relayed the information to Liu Botao.

Hu Xiaowei and his wife – or rather, ex-wife – Hou Yingyu had been divorced for over six months. The divorce had been initiated by Hu Xiaowei, and Hou Yingyu had agreed to it remarkably calmly. The proceedings were swift and amicable.

After Hu Xiaowei disappeared while stationed at the Zhanjiang base, Bureau Two had brought in Hou Yingyu for questioning, but she was already subject to a temporary travel ban. Her answers to Bureau Two’s questions were consistently “I don’t know,” “I don’t know,” and “I don’t know anything.” And no amount of probing yielded any additional information. Suspicion, however, wasn’t enough to constitute evidence, and Bureau Two had no choice but to release her, placing her under surveillance.

Hou Yingyu had recently connected with a tea merchant from Fujian online. They hadn’t met in person, communicating instead via instant messaging software. Their relationship wasn’t particularly frequent, but it was stable, a slow burn. The merchant traveled extensively throughout China, selling tea, and Bureau Two hadn’t uncovered anything incriminating, so they continued to observe him.

The tea merchant had invested himself in Hou Yingyu on multiple levels – emotionally and financially. Despite never having met, and Hou Yingyu never even sending him a photo of herself, he had transferred a total of 250,000 RMB to her via instant messaging over the past half-month. Bureau Two became interested in this online romance, or more accurately, wary.

Bureau Two located the merchant in a budget hotel in Datong, Shanxi province. His answers to their questions mirrored those given by Hou Yingyu: “I don’t know,” “I don’t know,” and “I don’t know anything.” He vehemently insisted he didn’t know Hou Yingyu and claimed he hadn’t transferred any single payment over 500 RMB to any woman other than his wife.

The merchant had no idea where he’d been taken, but he could sense these people were different from the police officers he was used to dealing with. These people weren’t interested in prostitution – though the local police weren’t overly concerned with it either, at least not without a fine.

Bureau Two eventually understood the reason. The tea merchant had two mobile phones. He’d lost one in Zhanjiang, but thankfully it wasn’t used for business, so his client information remained secure. The instant messaging account on that phone had been hacked, and it was the account he used to contact family and friends. It hadn’t affected his tea sales, so he hadn’t bothered with it, simply buying a new phone and registering a new account.

A name surfaced in the minds of the Bureau Two investigators: Hu Xiaowei.

The Communications Intelligence Division (CID) began tracing the fraudulent tea merchant who had contacted Hou Yingyu, using the standard tactic of IP redirection. Bureau Two ultimately located the original IP address used during the most recent contact between the imposter and Hou Yingyu: a farm in Portugal.

Bureau Two deployed satellite surveillance of the farm and simultaneously dispatched personnel for on-site reconnaissance.

The original farm owner had sold the 10,000-hectare property six months ago. The current owner was a trading company based in Lisbon. The farm’s location made reconnaissance difficult. To avoid exposure, the investigators didn’t risk approaching the farm, but they were able to confirm, with their own eyes, that Hu Xiaowei had been seen in a small town 12 kilometers from the farm, accompanied by two bodyguards. However, there was no sign of Hu Guowei.

This meant Qiu Tian would have to make another trip to Europe.

Before Qiu Tian could depart, Hou Yingyu suddenly disappeared. It appeared a highly sophisticated smuggling network existed, or that MI6 had deeply infiltrated the system. From General Hu Guowei to Navy Major Hu Xiaowei, and now civilian Hou Yingyu, they were all vanishing without a trace. The All-Army Informationization Commission demanded that Bureau Two establish a special task force, coordinating with the Public Security Bureau and Border Control to investigate the smuggling channels and uncover the truth.

Qiu Tian traveled from Bulgaria across the European continent to Portugal, on the Atlantic coast. In mid-April, central Portugal enjoyed mild weather, and the trees were already green. Outside the major cities, the population remained sparse, giving the landscape a sense of desolation.

The isolated farm occupied an entire small hill, its grounds generally oval-shaped, following the contours of the land. Over half of the property was woodland, with a farmhouse and outbuildings – sheds and barns – perched on the hilltop. The rest of the land consisted of gentle slopes used as fields, currently lying fallow. A highway ran along the western side of the farm, curving around its perimeter. The farm’s dense greenery could be seen through the barriers of the highway. The entire property was enclosed by a newly constructed metal fence. On the east side, the fence had no access points or gates, bordering a seldom-used mountain trail. The farm’s main gate was located on the east side of a highway underpass. Passing through the underpass along a narrow road led to the only nearby village adjacent to the farm. One had to pass through the village before reaching the highway, and ultimately, the outside world.

Qiu Tian had already committed all of this to memory. She had even measured the distances from the hilltop farmhouse to various points on the terrain, calculated the time it would take to move between them, and studied the surrounding landscape and facilities.

The village beside the farm consisted of only 21 households. Everyone knew each other’s history, going back generations. Outsiders rarely visited, so Qiu Tian, with her Asian features, would immediately be noticed if she appeared there. She would have to infiltrate the farm at night, when it was deserted.

Qiu Tian scaled the metal fence on the east side to enter the farm and conducted an on-site reconnaissance of the terrain and personnel. The farm gate was approximately 2200 meters from the farmhouse on the hill. A car was parked at the gate, guarded by an armed security personnel with a portable transceiver. At night, two armed guards patrolled the perimeter of the farmhouse, completing a circuit in about nine minutes. They rotated shifts every two hours, with only four personnel working in two teams. At eight in the morning, another group of five arrived to relieve the five who had been on duty. During the day, no one patrolled around the house; aside from the one guarding the farm gate, the other four remained inside until eight in the evening, when another team took over. After a night of observation, the personnel arrangement and routine for the second night were identical to the first. Qiu Tian hadn’t spotted her target and refrained from acting rashly. At one in the morning, she caught a few hours of sleep at her observation post. Her internal clock woke her at five.

Shortly after the morning shift change, three people emerged from the house: two bodyguards in front, and Hu Guowei behind them. To get a clearer view, Qiu Tian removed the anti-glare filter from her binoculars and observed again, confirming it was Hu Guowei.

She reattached the anti-glare grid and continued to watch. “68 years old, or 69… he’s still in good shape.” Watching Hu Guowei split wood in front of the house with an axe, Qiu Tian thought to herself.

Whether he was tired or simply bored, after splitting two logs, Hu Guowei tossed the axe to the ground, wiped his hands on his shirt, and began to stroll around the small house. Two bodyguards followed him at a respectful distance. After a couple of laps, Hu Guowei slowly walked up the steps and stood at the doorway, looking aimlessly around. He checked his watch, then leisurely returned inside, the two bodyguards following close behind.

The security presence here was weak, and she’d discovered Hu Guowei himself, but Qiu Tian didn’t immediately take action.

Just now, Hu Guowei had instinctively glanced at his watch. This unconscious gesture caught Qiu Tian’s attention. Why was the seemingly relaxed and carefree Hu Guowei concerned about the time? There must be an important visitor arriving today, and soon at that. Qiu Tian decided to wait. She needed to prepare a meal anyway, and could serve it when the important guest arrived, and she still hadn’t spotted any sign of Hu Xiaowei.

Hu Guowei was indeed waiting for an important guest. He hadn’t handed over all the most critical intelligence. The British weren’t rushing things. Hu Guowei understood they were afraid he’d ask for too much and were deliberately stalling him. But he wasn’t a child. The British game should have a limit. No matter what conditions they offered, they would take all the intelligence he possessed. MI6 was a broker. The British would ultimately pass the information on to the Americans, who had deeper pockets, although the Americans hadn’t shown their face yet. Today the British were coming to negotiate terms. If they reached an agreement, he would hand over the intelligence. He and his son couldn’t continue to move locations on a whim, nor could they stay in this remote and desolate farm indefinitely.

Reaching this point, Hu Guowei harbored some regret, but he was already on a sinking ship, unable to turn back. The more he feared losing everything, the deeper he fell into the trap. Now, on the verge of enjoying his later years, he had become a traitor, unable to follow his heart, forced to rely on others. His only son, Hu Xiaowei, had been spoiled since childhood. Hu Xiaowei had finally made it into the military, and through connections, had even been promoted to a Major. But because of his protective instincts towards his son, he’d been dragged down with him. Now, thinking about it, it only added to his frustration. He had to accept the situation and face reality.

At 8:56, a car with Portuguese license plates drove along the winding path leading to the house. It was a modified Mercedes-Benz E-Class, with tinted windows throughout, preventing Qiu Tian from seeing the occupants.

Before the car even came to a complete stop, two bodyguards emerged from the house, followed by Hu Xiaowei, with Hou Yingyu by his side. Qiu Tian didn’t know if their divorce was genuine, but she had gathered the people she was interested in, and there was a bonus.

Two people exited the front of the car. From the back left seat stepped an Asian woman who appeared to be in her forties, wearing a wine-red coat and a neatly styled short haircut. Her wine-red high heels provided stable support on the uneven ground. The bodyguard from the passenger seat opened the car’s right rear door. Due to the parking direction and angle, the last person to exit only revealed a head of blonde hair and the back of a dark grey suit to Qiu Tian. She temporarily nicknamed him “Blondie.”

The Asian woman quickly walked to the other side of the car, introducing “Blondie” and Hou Yingyu and Hu Xiaowei. The group entered the house. Soon after, five people came out of the house. Two bodyguards went around to the back, and the remaining two bodyguards and “Blondie’s” driver stood at the doorway.

Qiu Tian circled around to the back of the house. The two bodyguards stood three or five paces apart but didn’t speak to each other, staring blankly at the woods 200 meters away – whether they were observing, on alert, or lost in their own thoughts, she couldn’t tell. Silently, Qiu Tian neutralized the two men and moved along the wall to the side of the house.

She picked up a twig from the ground and tossed it onto the Mercedes-Benz, which lacked any visible branding. The driver was startled, looking up to see where the twig had come from. There were no trees above the car. He walked towards the vehicle, one of the bodyguards curiously following him.

Qiu Tian moved along the wall toward the doorway. The bodyguard still stationed at the door had been distracted by the earlier incident, observing the car and its surroundings. When he glanced sideways, he spotted Qiu Tian, moving like a shadow, silently approaching his side. Before he could react, she shot him down. The other two men turned at the sound of the commotion, but the bullets from Qiu Tian’s gun accurately struck their heads, sending them collapsing silently to the ground.

After ensuring they were neutralized, Qiu Tian quickly entered the house. She knew that anyone meeting with Hu Guowei would be high-ranking, and it was impossible there were only a car and two bodyguards. There might be others following, likely stationed at the gate 2200 meters away, watching for anyone approaching. She had to eliminate the target as quickly as possible.

The remaining bodyguard inside the house seemed to sense something was wrong. He drew his weapon and cautiously moved toward the door, searching as he went. He and Qiu Tian came face to face. The bodyguard raised his gun, but Qiu Tian surged forward, pressing her body against his. Simultaneously stepping on his feet and pinning his shooting arm to her left armpit, she used her forward momentum to throw him off balance. As they both fell, Qiu Tian fired two shots from her silenced pistol into the bodyguard’s head. She stood up, kicked his gun aside, and quickly surveyed the interior while reloading her magazine. The commotion outside the living room alerted those inside. Hu Xiaowei was just about to get up and investigate when Qiu Tian burst through the door. The three men and two women inside the living room abruptly stopped their conversation.

The Asian woman reached for her handbag on the table, but “Blondie” grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“Miss Qiu,” Blondie said, raising his head, “I’ve only seen your photos before. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

“And you are?” Qiu Tian asked, though already having a clue of his identity based on his authentic Scottish accent, she still wanted confirmation.

“I’m Gordon. Jefferson Gordon, Director of MI6.” Gordon gestured to the woman beside him. “This is Mishiko Kawashimo, Director of MI6’s Far East Division.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Qiu Tian said calmly, her expression even.

“You probably recognize the others, though they may not know you.” Gordon added.

Gordon concealed his surprise, but Hu Guowei’s astonishment was plain on his face.

The moment he saw the woman burst into the room, Hu Guowei remembered an old acquaintance. The young woman looked remarkably like Qiu Qingli. Hearing Gordon refer to her as “Miss Qiu,” he was certain this was Qiu Qingli’s daughter, Qiu Tian.

When Qiu Qingli had assigned her security secretary, Wang Fang, to the General Equipment Department, Hu Guowei had been genuinely worried, suspecting she was investigating him. But he later discovered Wang Fang paid no attention to outside affairs, simply focused on completing her declassification period. He gradually relaxed, though he still assigned Wang Fang to a completely idle position, seemingly doing Qiu Qingli a favor and taking care of Wang Fang. Thinking about it, Qiu Qingli had dedicated her life to military intelligence; she wouldn’t resort to such childish methods to investigate him.

Later, Hu Guowei considered that Qiu Qingli was merely using her connections to help one of her own. Wasn’t her daughter the same? A beautiful but impractical vase, first entering the Military Arts Academy and then the PLA Arts Troupe. If not for Qiu Qingli’s arrangements, would Qiu Tian have landed such good positions? Of course, there was nothing wrong with that. He had been paving the way and building bridges for his own son all along.

But the question now was, how did the British know Qiu Tian? What had she come here to do? Could it be that Qiu Qingli was also in league with the British? Hu Guowei was stunned. He quickly regained his composure, forcing a benevolent smile onto his face, etched with wrinkles. He said to Qiu Tian, “So you’re Qiu Tian. I’ve known about you for a long time! And your mother…”

“Silence!” Qiu Tian interrupted him sharply. “Don’t mention my mother. You’re insulting her!”

Gordon was certain MI6’s professional and meticulous arrangements couldn’t have been discovered. He had even instructed the six bodyguards in the two accompanying vehicles to maintain a perimeter at the farm gate, confident that six bodyguards in the house were sufficient. It was perfectly safe, no need to be overly anxious and cause his guest unnecessary worry. But now, it seemed things hadn’t gone according to plan. Something must have gone wrong somewhere, resulting in this unexpected visitor – “Miss Qiu.”

Gordon’s face darkened with displeasure. He lowered his voice and asked Hu Xiaowei, “Mr. Hu, we asked you not to contact your wife before her arrival. Is there something you need to tell us?”

Hu Xiaowei didn’t answer. His muscles were tense, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair. He leaned forward, sweat beading on his forehead. His mind was racing faster than his eyes, desperately searching for an opportunity to act. He was still in his prime, a frontline operative in the military. The British wouldn’t risk a confrontation – they were afraid to die. He couldn’t surrender to this young woman. A pistol wouldn’t scare him.

Hu Xiaowei reached for Mishiko Kawashimo’s handbag, but he leaned back, throwing himself and the chair to the ground. Blood gushed from the gunshot wound to his forehead, pooling at Kawashimo’s feet, its color strangely complementing the crimson of her high heels. Qiu Tian swiftly fired, killing both Hu Guowei and Hou Yingyu.

Kawashimo silently thanked her luck. She was glad she had been stopped by her boss when she reached for her weapon, otherwise, she would have been the first to fall. This Miss Qiu clearly preferred to shoot first and ask questions later – or not ask questions at all.

Gordon broke the momentary silence in the room. He stood up and said to Qiu Tian, “Miss Qiu, you’ve resolved your internal affairs. Can Ms. Kawashimo and I depart now? Or, if you prefer, you can leave first. I suspect my driver won’t be able to drive for me anymore.”

“Mr. Director,” Qiu Tian countered, “given our brief acquaintance, do you really think I’d make an exception for you?”

Gordon hesitated, then sighed and sat back down.

Qiu Tian took facial photographs of the five corpses and collected their fingerprints, sending the data back to Bureau Two. She climbed over the fence on the east side of the farm and quietly disappeared among the hills covered by dense woodland.

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Truth drips slowly in the places light cannot reach.

§ The Alphabet Series §

§ Miss Qiu Series §

§ Stand Alone §