The night in Shanghai was spread out, a black blanket strewn with stars that could not hide the anxiety beneath. The clock ticked slowly in the makeshift lookout post they had set up, a cramped, secretly rented room facing the old building where Mr. Dubois was hiding. The cold air from the Huangpu River crept in through the tiny window, piercing to the bone. The three friends—Xie Xiang, Gu Yanzhen, and Shen Junshan—shared a tense silence, their eyes never leaving the window across the way, waiting. Every shadow that moved behind the shabby curtains of the building felt like a promising clue, or a trap.
Gu Yanzhen leaned his back against the cold wall, his arms wrapped protectively around Xie Xiang's waist. He could feel Xie Xiang's racing heartbeat, an anxious rhythm that resonated in his own chest. The fear of losing Xie Xiang, which had haunted him since the bombing, now felt more real. He was no longer just a rebellious cadet from a wealthy family, but a man responsible for the heart and life of the woman he loved most. Incident after incident had carved him into a more serious and protective person, but also vulnerable.
"He's moving," Shen Junshan whispered, his voice calm but with a hint of anticipation in it. He was glued to his binoculars, his gaze locked on Dubois' window. "He's got an oil lamp, not an electric one. That's suspicious."
The dim yellow light from the oil lamp reflected Mr. Dubois's shifting shadow on the wall. They saw him hunched over the table, clearly trying to decipher the fake document that Xie Xiang had 'dropped'. Dubois' every move felt calculated, his expression hard to read even from a distance. The man was a master of the game of espionage.
Xie Xiang.....tobe continued pliss click:
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