Agent: Intercepting Yu Manli at the start!

Chapter 64 This is the key to Zhou Xiaobu's scheme!

Zhou Enlai's Residence.

Zhou Xiao gazed quietly at Lin Yiyi: "Yiyi, if you're going to kill Zhang Wanlin, you should at least know him like family—can you even recognize his handwriting?"

"I recognize him." Lin Yiyi's voice was not loud, but it was like a piece of steel tempered with ice. "How many sleepless nights did I spend for this day? I copied hundreds of his letters and wrote dozens of his notes. I even remember clearly the place where he habitually paused when he signed his name."

As soon as she finished speaking, a flame suddenly ignited in her eyes, burning fiercely and silently—the hatred of wiping out her entire family was not a debt, but a flesh torn from her very bones.

She lived for this moment.

Zhou Xiao nodded slightly.

If you can't even decipher your enemy's handwriting, then the word "revenge" is nothing but empty talk.

"Alright." His gaze was calm. "Now, write a letter in his style. The content is up to you; what I want to see is the strength and structure of his handwriting."

"Okay." Lin Yiyi didn't ask why. She laid out the paper, dipped it in ink, and held her wrist, the brush moving like a snake. After more than ten minutes, she put down the wolf-hair brush. She handed over the letter: "Brother Zhou, please take a look."

Zhou Xiao carefully examined each character, and finally nodded: "It looks like it. Is this his handwriting?"

"Yes."

"Okay." He put away the letter, looked up and looked directly at Lin Yiyi. "I'll arrange to meet Zhang Wanlin."

"I can't say for sure how many men he brought. Are you afraid?"

"Afraid?" Lin Yiyi's lips curled into a cold, hard smile. "I, Lin Yiyi, have been waiting for him to show his face. I'm not afraid of death, so why would I be afraid of him bringing a few lackeys?"

"Very good." Zhou Xiao's tone softened slightly. "Don't worry. Within two days, I'll pave the way for you—so you can personally shove the knife into his chest."

Lin Yiyi choked up, and only said softly, "Thank you, Brother Zhou."

The two discussed the details in hushed tones for a few more moments before she rose to take her leave. Zhou Xiao watched her leave, then turned and went into his study.

In his study, he unfolded the letter Lin Yiyi had written and began to copy it.

This time, however, the recipient was Aoki Takeshige.

The letter stated: Yongxin is willing to devote himself fully to the Special Higher Police, but Huo Tianhong and Lu Yusheng are obstructing him. He earnestly requested Section Chief Aoki to go to Wantai Department Store on Chunxi Road for a secret meeting to discuss ways to remove the obstacles. He stressed that the meeting must be conducted in secrecy and that no one should be alerted.

In recent days, through various opportunities such as casual conversations at drinking parties, listening to rumors in teahouses, and chance encounters in military camps, he had already figured out Zhang Wanlin's true intentions—Zhang Wanlin did indeed have the intention to seek refuge, but was blocked at the door by Huo and Lu.

Aoki Takeshige was also quite pleased with himself: if he could recruit Yongxin, the Special Higher Police's intelligence network could truly reach into every inch of the dark alleys of Shanghai; even better, Yongxin would be there to handle the dirty work for him.

And so it was settled—Aoki Takeshige had been secretly working hard to bring Yongxin into the clutches of the Special Higher Police.

Zhou Xiao knew all too well what this old devil was thinking: he was determined to "recruit" him, using the nice-sounding term "cooperation" while actually plotting to turn Yongxin into his sharpest weapon. Therefore, as long as word got out that Zhang Wanlin was willing to talk, Aoki Takeshige would definitely agree, and he would absolutely have to bring Watanabe Ichiro along—after all, in this kind of matter, you always need a trustworthy deputy to keep an eye on things.

Perfect, let's take them all at once.

The letter was folded and pressed between Zhou Xiao's fingers, the edges sharp and distinct. He stared at the newly written letter and muttered under his breath, "Aoki Takeshige, Aoki Takeshige... do you really dare to come?"

He knew perfectly well that the old man was eager for Yongxin to defect, and the more eager he was, the easier it would be for him to fall into a trap. Not to mention that he was extremely arrogant and believed that he held the power of life and death, so no matter how ruthless Zhang Wanlin was, he wouldn't dare to touch a hair on his head.

Feeling invincible? That's right. But the one who truly wanted his head to roll was never Zhang Wanlin—it was Zhou Xiao.

If Mingtai's team were to force their way in, it would be like throwing an egg against a rock. When Aoki Takeshige went out, he was scouted by plainclothes officers in front and escorted by military police behind him. Even the wheels of his car were wrapped in bulletproof leather. How could he possibly succeed?

But if he sneaks off to the appointment alone... with fewer people around, his secret will be exposed.

This is the key to Zhou Xiaobu's scheme.

As for Zhang Wanlin, Zhou Xiao didn't let him off the hook either. Following Aoki Takeshige's handwriting, he quickly drafted a reply—every word of which was shrewd and probing, only saying, "Regarding the matter of Yongxin's surrender to the Special Higher Police, it is advisable to discuss it in secret and not to make it public."

His skill was simply amazing: it wasn't just imitation, it was a perfect replica; it wasn't just similar, it was exactly the same. Even if the original owner saw it with his own eyes, he would be stunned for three seconds before daring to recognize it.

Two letters, two identities, two handwritings—all fit together perfectly.

Why did he go to all this trouble? He just wanted the two of them to slip away unnoticed and travel light to the same place.

Zhang Wanlin is no pushover. He's ruthless and has enemies all over the city; every step he takes feels like walking on a knife's edge. Lin Yiyi's several assassination attempts failed precisely because he always carries seven or eight guns and has spies everywhere he goes.

But this time, he is stepping into the circle that Zhou Xiao has drawn, step by step.

The dead end is inevitable.

After finishing the letter, Zhou Xiao examined the ink, signature, and creases against the light again to confirm that there were no flaws before getting up to change his clothes.

Impersonating someone from the Special Higher Police? For him, it was as easy as putting on an old jacket.

Zhang Mansion.

A young maid in a lotus-colored cheongsam, holding an envelope between her fingers, quickly walked through the carved doorway and stopped in front of Zhang Wanlin: "General, a Japanese man has come to the door and insists that I hand this letter to you personally."

Zhang Wanlin didn't even lift his eyelids, reached out and took the letter, and asked coldly, "Where is he? What does he look like?"

He has always been arrogant. Even before Shanghai fell, he dared to act arrogantly in the foreign concessions. He accepted being called "General" without a second thought. Yet, this man was also extremely vigilant—truly ruthless and deeply suspicious.

The maid thought for a moment and replied, "He was wearing a gray woolen uniform, spoke with a stiff accent, and couldn't even speak Mandarin fluently. He only said, 'Be sure to hand it over to the commander-in-chief personally,' and then he left."

Zhang Wanlin was the "tip of the knife" among the three tycoons, the second-in-command of Yongxin Group. He was ruthless and decisive, and intolerant of any wrongdoing. He believed that instilling fear was ten times more effective than instilling respect. But precisely because of this, he made too many enemies, and every step he took was fraught with peril.

Upon hearing this, he immediately dismissed his concubine and servants, turned and went into his study, locked the door with a "click," and then tore open the envelope.

Every word in the letter was written by Zhou Xiao specifically for him.

After scanning the area, Zhang Wanlin's brow furrowed: "Aoki Takeshige wants to have a private meeting with me?"

Without delay, he picked up the phone and dialed the internal line: "Tian Hu, come to the study immediately!"

Less than two minutes later, Tian Hu pushed the door open and came in.

Zhang Wanlin slammed the letter on the table: "Aoki Takeshige has invited me to meet privately. What do you think?"

Tian Hu didn't answer immediately. He paused for a few seconds before slowly speaking: "When you came back from the Special Higher Police last time, the big boss and the third boss immediately turned on each other, and their words were full of warnings—they didn't want to get involved in this mess at all. Since Aoki Takeshige knew this, the fact that he chose this time to make a secret appointment must mean something important."

Zhang Wanlin nodded: "Then this letter... is it credible?"

"If the handwriting matches, then it's pretty close." Tian Hu paused. "You still have the letters you exchanged with him before, right?"

Zhang Wanlin immediately got up, opened the safe, took out several old letters, and laid them on the desk to compare them word by word.

The stroke direction, the pressure of the strokes, the habits of connecting strokes... all match up perfectly.

There are countless ways to write, but the essence and spirit of each person cannot be faked. No matter how closely one imitates, subtle flaws will inevitably emerge—but this letter has none.

He pushed the letter to Tian Hu: "Take a look too."

Tian Hu bent down to examine it closely, his fingertips tracing the characters, then flipped it over to check the color of the ink and the yellowing of the paper. After a long while, he looked up and said, "General, every stroke is precise and the strength is perfect—it was written by Aoki Takeshige himself, there's no mistake."

The two checked the envelope repeatedly, comparing the creases three times, before finally letting out a long sigh of relief.

As Qiao Bao had mentioned before, the messenger was a Japanese. Zhang Wanlin's heart sank, and he immediately concluded that this secret letter was sent by the Special Higher Police at the behest of Aoki Takeshige.

Tian Hu asked in a low voice, "General, are you really going to keep the appointment?"

Zhang Wanlin sneered and stubbed out his cigarette in the brass ashtray: "Go! Why wouldn't I go!"

"Looking across the entire Shanghai Bund, who dares to lay a finger on Zhang Wanlin? Even that old fox, Aoki Takeshige, has to think twice—backed by Yongxin!"

"In this area of ​​the Bund, it's always been me, Zhang Wanlin, who draws my gun and fires first. It's not up to anyone else to pull the trigger on me!"

These words were resounding, arrogantly bold, and ruthlessly cruel.

Years ago, no one dared to disbelieve this.

But now—some people believe it, while others insist on tearing it down!

Zhou Xiao was the one who held the knife and waited in the shadows.

Tian Hu nodded slightly: "The commander-in-chief is right."

Zhang Wanlin narrowed his eyes and tapped his fingers lightly twice on the edge of the mahogany table: "This matter must not be mentioned to our eldest brother or third brother. When we meet Aoki Takeshige, we must do so quietly—with as few people as possible, the better."

"Tian Hu, pick ten of your most reliable brothers, equip them all with pistols, loaded, and bring them with me tomorrow morning!"

He kept saying, "I'll hold up the sky if it falls," but his feet were firmly planted on the ground—he was afraid of death, so afraid that he was conscious of it.

Although there weren't many people, each of them had a quick-draw gun at their waist; they weren't just brutes carrying machetes to make a scene.

He is meticulous in his actions and has a keen eye for detail.

Tian Hu replied, "Okay, I'll go and gather the men and prepare the equipment right away."

To prevent Huo Tianhong and Lu Yusheng from discovering the meeting, Zhang Wanlin kept it completely secret, leaving no trace whatsoever. The location, time, and circumstances were all under his control.

Everything was proceeding according to the plan laid out by Zhou Xiao.

……

Special Higher Police Section, Section Chief's Office.

Watanabe Ichiro pushed open the door, holding a brown paper envelope. He saw Aoki Takeshige bent over his desk reviewing documents, so he handed him the letter: "Section Chief, this is a letter from Yongxin."

"Yongxin?" Aoki Takeshige took the letter, glanced at it, raised his eyebrows slightly, and looked up at Watanabe. "Zhang Wanlin asked me to have a private talk—what do you think?" He then handed the letter over.

Watanabe Ichiro leaned closer to examine it, his fingertips tracing the ink marks on the page, and slowly said, "The handwriting is unmistakable; it's Zhang Wanlin's own handwriting." He paused, then added, "If he says it, he does it."

Both were veteran spies with years of experience in intelligence work, possessing keen eyesight. Ordinary imitations couldn't escape their notice.

But Zhou Xiao's skill in copying, which was like "movable type printing," had long been so refined that it was impossible to distinguish the forgery from the real thing—more than enough to fool those two old devils.