Dawn broke over Shanghai, painting the sky in stunning shades of orange and purple. But the beauty of the morning felt illusory to Xie Xiang. The words from the mysterious letter he had received — "Find out about 'Operation Bamboo Curtain'" — kept ringing in his mind, a dissonant melody that disturbed his peace. The terror of the bombing of Gu Yanzhen and the hijacking of the cargo ship at the docks now felt connected by a faint but strong thread, as if all were part of a terrifying orchestra led by an invisible conductor.
The Republic of China in the early 1930s was a land in turmoil. After the January 28 Incident, nationalism was indeed burning, a flame that tried to burn away the ashes of defeat. But behind the spirit of unity, foreign infiltration and intrigue posed a latent threat that was eating away from within. Japan, despite the ceasefire, maintained a suspicious presence in Shanghai, especially in Hongkou District and the sectors controlled by the International Concession. Local political and military factions also competed with each other, creating loopholes for external forces to play with loyalties, tearing apart the fragile fabric of the nation.
Xie Xiang, who had now made a name for herself as one of the best cadets—despite her true identity as a woman being discovered—felt a greater burden of responsibility. She was no longer just a girl disguised for her ideals; she was a soldier fighting for her fragile country, a country she loved with all her heart. Her journey through disguises and dangers had sharpened her instincts, making her more sensitive to the oddities around her, as if there were dissonant voices that only she could hear.
After a bland breakfast, Xie Xiang met Gu Yanzhen in the academy library, where dusty old books bore silent witness to their every strategy. Gu Yanzhen looked solemn, his eyes full of determination, but there was a faint crease between his brows that betrayed concern.
"I've tried to find out about 'Operation Bamboo Curtain' through my connections," Gu Yanzhen said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "There are no official records. It must be a top-level covert operation, or even a fiction, created to disguise something else."
"But the letter is real," Xie Xiang replied, his fingers tapping the pages of the open book, as if searching for an answer there. "I'm sure it's a clue. Maybe 'Bamboo Curtain' refers to something hidden, not obvious to the naked eye."
"Like the intrigues going on behind the scenes in our politics and military?" Gu Yanzhen guessed, raising an eyebrow, a skeptical smile on his lips. "That's very possible. We know there are many who do not want the Republic of China to stabilize. There are too many wolves hiding in sheep's clothing."
They decided to divide up the tasks. Gu Yanzhen would use his family's extensive influence and connections in government and the military to seek information in the upper echelons—a world where information was worth more than gold. Meanwhile, Xie Xiang would try to get close to Mr. Dubois, the newly arrived French intelligence agent. Xie Xiang's instincts told him that something was not right with the man; a puzzle that needed to be solved.
"Be careful of Dubois," Gu Yanzhen advised, his hand gripping Xie Xiang's arm for a moment. "A man like him can be a double-edged sword. He may come to help, or he may have his own agenda that is darker than the night."
"I know," Xie Xiang replied, nodding confidently. "But I have a feeling he knows more than he lets on. His eyes are too cold, too much to hide."
That afternoon, Xie Xiang found Mr. Dubois examining the ruins of one of the buildings inside the academy complex that had been badly damaged by the Japanese bombing. The old building, once a secret archive, was now a dusty ruin, a silent witness to the brutality of war. Dubois's demeanor seemed too relaxed for someone investigating a terrorist attack, as if he were taking a walk in a park.
Xie Xiang approached him with calm steps, the sand beneath her shoes creaking softly. "Good afternoon, Mr. Dubois."
Dubois turned, a faint smile etched on his emotionless face. "Miss Xie. I heard that you are one of the best cadets here. Quite impressive for a..." He stopped his sentence, as if realizing his mistake, but the look in his eyes implied that he knew Xie Xiang's true identity, a secret that he held as a trump card.
Xie Xiang ignored the sarcasm, choosing to focus on what was before his eyes. "I wonder, what are you looking for here? This warehouse has been checked many times by our experts."
"Just making sure nothing is missed," Dubois replied lightly, his hand touching the cracked wall, as if searching for answers among the cracks. "Sometimes, the smallest clues can be found in the most obvious places, Miss Xie. Like looking for a needle in a burnt haystack." He then added, his voice turning a little more serious, "You know, Miss Xie, China is an interesting country. Full of secrets and loyalties that change easily, like the spring breeze."
"So is Europe, Mr. Dubois," Xie Xiang retorted sharply, her eyes staring straight at the man, challenging. "Loyalties can change anywhere, especially when there are great interests at stake, don't you think?"
Dubois only smiled faintly, and Xie Xiang felt the man sizing her up, weighing her every word and expression. The brief chat yielded no information, but Xie Xiang became increasingly convinced that Dubois was hiding something. Her hunch grew that there might be a foreign involvement that went deeper than just 'helping'; there might be a larger hidden agenda.
On the other hand, Shen Junshan was immersed in his own mission, an attempt to fill the emptiness in his heart. Ever since Xie Xiang and Gu Yanzhen's marriage, he had volunteered for more dangerous field assignments, immersing himself in work until his body was exhausted, hoping that it would calm the turmoil in his soul. He was tracking suspicious movements in the International Concession, a region often a hotbed of intrigue and shady activity, where the lines between law and crime were often blurred.
One night, Shen Junshan infiltrated a shabby teahouse near the border of the French Concession. The air was thick with clove cigarette smoke and the smell of rice wine, noisy with overlapping conversations in multiple languages. He was dressed in civilian clothes, disguised as a local merchant, his face obscured by a hat and a tired look in his eyes. From a table in the corner, he heard a group of men speaking in Japanese, punctuated by a few words of fluent Mandarin, like sharp barbed wire. They were discussing "latest shipments" and "new positions in Nanking."
Shen Junshan realized that this was the Japanese espionage ring he was looking for. He approached, pretending to be drunk, and plopped down in a chair near them, pretending to be asleep. With his keen ears, he overheard their conversation. They were talking about a very important "contact" within the Chinese government, someone who helped them smooth out illegal trade routes and gather highly sensitive intelligence.
"This operation must be a success. This time, the 'Bamboo Curtain' will not hinder us," said one of the Japanese men, his voice low but full of emphasis.
Shen Junshan's heart lurched. The word "Bamboo Curtain" was exactly the same as that mentioned in Xie Xiang's mysterious letter. He knew this was a crucial clue. It was not just a code name, but also a hint of China's self-protection efforts, efforts they considered fragile.
He listened intently, gathering as many details as he could, every word etched in his mind. The information he learned was shocking: there was a major covert operation planned by the Japanese, using agents who had infiltrated the Chinese government structure to its very roots. The hijacking of the cargo ship was merely a diversion, a decoy, part of a larger scheme to create chaos and pave the way for a larger invasion.
When Shen Junshan returned to the academy in the early hours of the morning, his face was tired and covered in a thin mustache, but his eyes were full of burning determination. He went straight to the commander's office to report his findings, ignoring the time or breaks. The commander listened intently, his expression turning grim as Shen Junshan revealed the details he had heard, as if every word were a drop of poison.
"Operation Bamboo Curtain," the commander repeated, nodding slowly, his voice heavy. "So that's the code name. And it means we're surrounded."
"And their contact in Nanking is very dangerous, Commander," Shen Junshan added, clenching his fists. "He has access to the most sensitive information, he can destroy us from the inside."
This news quickly reached Xie Xiang and Gu Yanzhen. They were shocked and relieved. At least, now they had a clearer clue. "Operation Bamboo Curtain" was not fictional; it was the code name for a Japanese plan that was much bigger and more sinister than they had expected.
"This means that Mr. Dubois knows more than Gu Yanzhen, his jaw clenched. "Maybe he's not just a French agent, but also has connections with the Japanese, or at least, he has information about this operation and chose to keep quiet."
Gu Yanzhen nodded in agreement, his eyes narrowed. "We have to investigate further. And we have to find out who their contact in Nanking is as soon as possible. Before they can do more irreparable damage."
That night, the Arsenal Military Academy felt enveloped in an invisible aura of danger, a black cloud hanging over their heads. The cadets continued their training, the officers were busy with their own affairs, but behind all that, there was a growing awareness that the real war was not only on the front lines, but also behind the negotiating tables, behind the diplomatic screens, and in the shadows of the spies that roamed every corner of the city.
Xie Xiang sat in her chair, holding a pen, but her thoughts were far away. She thought of Shen Junshan, who had risked his life again for the sake of the truth, for the country he loved. That man, who chose to keep his love in solitude, was a true hero. His sacrifice was both an inspiration and a burden to Xie Xiang, a promise she had to hold fast to. She was determined not to disappoint Shen Junshan's sacrifice.
She also thought of Gu Yanzhen, her husband. His strength and love were her greatest support, a beacon in the darkness. They would face this together, holding hands tightly, ready to face whatever whoever came.
Xie Xiang looked out the window, at the bamboo curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. The bamboo curtains, which should have symbolized serenity and beauty, now felt like a metaphor for the secrets and betrayals hidden behind the peaceful facade. Operation Bamboo Curtain. A name that now felt like a shadow hanging over them all, a real and imminent threat.
She took out a blank sheet of paper and began to write, jotting down all the information they had, trying to connect the dots. The more she wrote, the clearer it became to her that they were facing an enemy far more cunning and organized than they had previously imagined. This high-stakes espionage game had only just begun, and the stakes were the future of the Republic of China itself, a bet they could not afford to lose.
***to be continued chapter 3