Chapter 7: Assassinating the Emperor (Part Six) — Bombarding the Registry Office

Boom! Boom! Explosions erupted one after another atop Mount Fuji, each detonation shaking the same spot until a vast crater yawned open in the mountainside. The people living around the sacred peak all fell to their knees, beseeching the Sun Goddess to protect them.

Within the forest, Li Wensheng, having fired five shells and reduced his cache of 80mm mortar rounds to just two, quickly stowed the mortar and retraced his steps at a run. Once he reached the city, he made straight for Tokyo; there was no time to flee further afield. If he tarried, even if he later learned from the papers that the Emperor would be appearing to rally the departing troops, he would not make it back in time.

By the time Li Wensheng returned to Tokyo, word of the bombing of Mount Fuji had already spread. Mount Fuji was the spiritual and cultural emblem of the island nation, as Kunlun Mountain was to China. The bombing sent shockwaves through the populace no less intense than those that followed the attack on the Imperial Palace.

As the Japanese people learned of the disaster, so too did foreign spies, and soon the French Concession newspapers in Shanghai were carrying the story once more. “Extra! Extra! The nameless avenger who declared war on the Japanese Emperor strikes again—after bombing the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters, he has now attacked Mount Fuji!” “Extra! Extra! The people of Japan fall to their knees in prayer!”

No sooner had the newsboys cried out than crowds swarmed about them, and the newspapers in their hands vanished in a flash. Those who missed out dashed to the newsstands, while nearby shopkeepers, hearing the shouts, engaged in animated discussion.

“Brother Yuanzhi, do you think the newsboy is telling the truth?”
“Of course. Didn’t the papers report already that someone bombed the Emperor’s palace? If that’s possible, then hitting other places is even easier.”
“Alas, I fear this hero will not escape capture for long.”
“Brother Feng, to tell you the truth, my family has already set up a spirit tablet for this hero. Every morning and evening, my mother chants sutras before it, praying for his safety.”
“A spirit tablet? Yuanzhi, we are men of letters. How can you put stock in such superstition?”
“Brother Feng, if it truly protects our hero, then I, Yan Qingfeng, would gladly forgo my learning.”
“…You are right, Yuanzhi. If it will safeguard this national hero, then what harm in a scholar believing in spirits? I’ll set up a tablet at home tonight, and have my wife chant prayers for him each day.”
“Alas, Brother Feng, how lamentable that we scholars, powerless to wield even a chicken’s strength, can only serve our nation in this small way.”

As the people of Shanghai discussed these events, news reached Chongqing as well. The balding leader, having confirmed the report, burst into hearty laughter. Ever since Dai Yunong had come to him with news from Japan two days prior, his spirits had soared, unaffected even by the unfavorable turn at the front.

After his laughter subsided, a thought struck him: since the Shanghai papers had reported repeatedly, he could not afford to delay. Turning to Chen Bulei, the director of the second office, he ordered, “Bulei, you will personally write a report—describe the man who has declared war on the Japanese Emperor as an elite of our party.”

Chen Bulei understood: the intent was to use this man’s deeds to rally morale. As for whether the man would object—he was no member of the Nationalists, and given what awaited him in Japan, he would surely die. The dead cannot object.

“Yes, I’ll see to it at once.”

After Chen Bulei departed, the leader picked up the telephone and called Dai Yunong. “Expand the Rejuvenation Society. I’ve spoken with Lifeng; from now on, the Rejuvenation Society will be known as the Bureau of Military Intelligence. All external intelligence will be your responsibility, and you will have all the funding you need. But the matter in Japan—you must handle it well.”

Dai Yunong was overjoyed. “Yes, sir! I will ensure it is done.”

“One more thing: I’ve ordered a piece written to use his deeds to boost morale.”

Dai Yunong’s eyes flashed. “Understood, sir. Alive, he is a member of the Rejuvenation Society; dead, he is its eternal spirit.”

“None of that ghost nonsense—he is a hero,” the leader rebuked gently.

“Yes, sir. I understand—he is a Chinese hero, and the spiritual symbol of our bureau. When his body is returned, I will see he is given a grand burial, and I will attend his funeral as his kin.”

“Good. I will attend the funeral myself and pay my respects. You must see that his body is brought back.”

“Yes, sir. It shall be done.”

After hanging up, Dai Yunong pondered. The article would be published, and the leader himself had said he would come to pay his respects. The body must be brought back. Dai Yunong began to worry that relying solely on Wang Tianfeng and his men would not suffice to retrieve the body. After some thought, he called Wang Huichun.

“Huichun, send a dispatch to our Shanghai station. Have them send people to Japan to assist Wang Tianfeng. The mission must be completed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Meanwhile, Wang Tianfeng and his two companions, after traveling day and night, had arrived in Tokyo. On contacting the Japan station, Wang Tianfeng’s first act was to produce a map and say to the station chief, Chen Zhiming, “Mark out all the explosion sites.”

After Chen Zhipeng marked the Imperial Palace, the red-light district, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters, and Mount Fuji, Wang Tianfeng connected the points and immediately frowned. The locations formed an almost straight line. Yet the man had survived for days, striking target after target without being caught—he was no fool. He would surely change his route. That meant they could not predict his next move.

“If you ask me,” said Zheng Yaoxian, glancing at the map, “forget all this. His target is the Emperor. All we need to do is keep watch on the palace.”

“The palace has been heavily guarded since the bombing,” Chen Zhipeng replied immediately. “There’s a whole regiment stationed outside, with patrols extending three kilometers out. There’s no way to keep watch.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than—Bang! A thunderous explosion shook the air.

The blast stunned the three men. They hurried to the window and threw it open. Their room overlooked the street from the second floor, and they saw, not far away, a building half-collapsed and people fleeing in panic.

“Chief Chen, what building is that?” Xu Baichuan asked, pointing at the blast site.

“That—that’s the Tokyo Household Registration Bureau!” Chen Zhiming stammered in shock. They had just been discussing the saboteur, and now he had struck right nearby.

At that moment, Wang Tianfeng’s pupils contracted. He turned at once and headed downstairs.

“Wang Tianfeng!” Zheng Yaoxian called after him, hurrying to follow. The others immediately rushed after as well.