Chapter Four: I Can See the Intelligence Value

After leaving Zhou Weiqiang’s office, Song Yingge opened the intelligence report.

Song Yingge paid little attention to the report.

The intelligence department received a vast number of tips daily, and their routine work involved analyzing the chaotic and disorganized information to sift out anything valuable.

This work was tedious and largely a matter of luck.

The vast majority of intelligence was useless; only a tiny fraction held any value.

After identifying valuable intelligence, they still had to verify it.

The report Zhou Weiqiang gave him read: “Xu Zhong, a student at National Central University, was overheard by a friend speaking secretly about assassinating Suma Kiyomaro, the Japanese Consul General stationed at the Nanjing Consulate.”

There was nothing unusual about this piece of intelligence. Many shouted every day about wanting to chop off the Japanese Emperor’s head to use as a chamber pot; these were merely bluster and could not be taken seriously.

But something strange happened when Song Yingge finished reading the report.

“Intelligence value: Gold. Of considerable value.”

Without warning, these words appeared in Song Yingge’s mind.

Had his auxiliary system just activated?

Suppressing the joy swelling in his chest, Song Yingge examined more reports.

After reviewing several, he found that most were rated white.

“Intelligence value: White. Almost no value.”

A few were green.

“Intelligence value: Green. Some value.”

The intelligence values ranked from low to high: white, green, gold.

There were surely higher levels than gold, but Song Yingge had yet to encounter them.

Both his body and mind were fully leveled, and now with the newly activated auxiliary system, Song Yingge only had one thought: in the shadowy frontline, who else but me?

“Xu Zhong, a student planning to assassinate the Japanese Consul General stationed in Nanjing...”

Since this was gold-level intelligence, it was worth digging into deeply.

Without hesitation, Song Yingge called for Sun Xi, mounted his bicycle, and headed straight for National Central University.

In 1927, several domestic universities merged and reorganized into the National Fourth Sun Yat-sen University, renamed the following year as National Central University, the finest institution in the country at that time.

The campus was located in Sipailou, just north of Jiming Temple and Xuanwu Lake.

Upon arriving, Song Yingge found the student who provided the intelligence, Chu Qin, to gather more information.

Chu Qin was an informant developed by the Secret Service, responsible for monitoring students within the university.

According to Chu Qin, Xu Zhong came from a poor family and was somewhat self-conscious. He was usually silent and unsociable, rarely interacting even with his dorm mates.

A few days ago, during a class gathering, Xu Zhong got drunk and suddenly told the student next to him that he intended to assassinate Suma Kiyomaro.

The neighbor dismissed it as drunken nonsense but later told Chu Qin about it as a joke.

With a mindset of “why not report it just in case,” Chu Qin passed it on to the intelligence department.

Guided by Chu Qin, Song Yingge and Sun Xi identified Xu Zhong from a distance.

He was slender and delicate-looking—a weak scholarly youth. Were it not for the intelligence value, Song Yingge would not have believed such a person would contemplate assassinating Suma Kiyomaro.

But history was full of scholars who undertook great deeds.

“What do you think of this?” Song Yingge asked.

“I don’t think it’s serious. But since we’re here, it’s best to interrogate Xu Zhong,” Sun Xi replied.

Sun Xi’s work attitude was responsible and earnest.

“I think we should investigate further. You and Chu Qin check who Xu Zhong has been associating with recently and if anything unusual is going on. I’ll monitor him,” Song Yingge said.

By evening, the two met but found nothing.

That day, Xu Zhong hadn’t left the school except for classes and meals and hadn’t interacted with classmates at all.

Sun Xi also found no abnormalities. Xu Zhong’s social interactions were almost nonexistent; he was not keen on participating in school activities and spent his time reading. His grades were consistently excellent, earning the professors’ favor.

“What if the problem isn’t at school?” Song Yingge suggested.

Though Sun Xi thought Song Yingge was overreacting, he complied: “Then tomorrow we’ll check his family situation.”

The next day, Song Yingge boldly requested a car from Zhou Weiqiang, then he and Sun Xi headed straight to Xu Zhong’s hometown in Jiangning.

According to Xu Zhong’s files, they found his home address in a slum.

For a student of National Central University to come from such a place, one could say his ancestors must have been miraculous.

Song Yingge did not visit directly.

At such a time, news of any incident spread quickly—within half a day, neighbors would know.

Near the slum at a street corner, they found a teahouse and sat down to drink.

After a few casual words, Song Yingge suddenly spoke loudly, “I’ve always thought the scholars of the Qing dynasty couldn’t compare to today’s university students. Look at National Central University; its graduates all become officials.”

A nearby idler drinking tea overheard and replied, “That’s true. Back then, only the top exam candidates were called ‘gentlemen.’ How could a scholar become an official?”

“National Central University is much harder to get into than those exams. You have to be a celestial literary star,” Song Yingge said, sitting beside the idler as if meeting a kindred spirit.

The idler chuckled proudly, “If you’re talking about a literary star, I actually know one.”

“Big brother, you have that connection?” Song Yingge asked in surprise.

“The old Xu family down the street—the kid Xu Zhong—I saw him grow up. He got into National Central University last year,” the idler said.

From the idler, Song Yingge learned about the Xu family.

Xu Zhong’s family had three members: his mother died early, and he had a younger sister, Xu Ling, three years his junior.

His father, Xu Si, was infamous for laziness and gambling.

Xu Zhong was precocious, taking care of the household affairs and practically raising Xu Ling by himself.

In June of this year, while Xu Zhong was studying, Xu Si was seized by creditors due to debts.

The creditors threatened that if the debts weren’t repaid, they would cut off his limbs.

Terrified, Xu Si sold Xu Ling to one of the creditors to settle the debt.

Xu Zhong only learned of this when he returned home on summer break in August.

Furious, Xu Zhong threatened the creditor with a knife.

Being a National Central University student, the creditor, interested only in money and unwilling to escalate the matter, told him that Xu Ling had been resold to someone else.

Throughout August, Xu Zhong searched desperately for news, finally discovering that Xu Ling had been bought by the Japanese consulate.

At that time, the police notified Xu Zhong to identify a corpse.

Xu Ling’s body had been found in the river and reported.

One of the responding officers, Feng Zhui, happened to be Xu Zhong’s classmate and had seen Xu Ling several times.

Upon seeing the body, Feng Zhui quickly informed Xu Zhong.

The corpse was wrapped in a sack and relatively well preserved.

There were no clothes on the body, but it was covered in wounds, clearly showing signs of abuse.

It was evident she had suffered inhuman torture before death.

Xu Zhong remained calm upon seeing the body but grew even more silent and withdrawn.

After learning all this, Song Yingge felt a tightness in his chest.

Back in the car, Sun Xi said, “It seems clear now that Xu Zhong’s drunken words were not empty threats. He is clearly the type to accomplish great things quietly.”

Song Yingge’s thoughts went deeper.

Xu Ling had ultimately been sold to the Japanese consulate.

Who was the one who abused and tortured her?

If it were the Japanese acting on their own depraved desires, that would be understandable.

But that alone did not justify gold-level intelligence.

Unless Xu Ling was used as a bargaining chip by the Japanese to bribe or corrupt some official in the National Government, then it would make sense.