Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Chapter 1107 Chinese people value seniority!

"Did I expose myself?" Zhou Zhengqing silently repeated Nanzo Yunzi's sarcastic remark to himself, his lips twitching almost imperceptibly. It was unclear whether he was mocking the undercover agent using the alias "Wang Fugui" or himself for having held a sliver of hope for him just moments before.

A top-tier undercover agent? He shook his head inwardly.

Silence spread between the two, broken only by the soft rustling of snowflakes falling and the innocent laughter of Heizi as they played.

Zhou Zhengqing withdrew his gaze from his younger sister.

"How is he? Has he spoken?"

Nanzo Yunzi tilted her head slightly, and from this angle, the lines of her profile appeared exceptionally delicate, yet also exceptionally ruthless, against the backdrop of the snow.

“According to the preliminary report from Maochuan Mansion,” she began, her voice clear and crisp, each word spoken with clarity and composure, “she currently only admits to being a Kuomintang agent, responsible for gathering intelligence on the consulate.”

But he insisted... She deliberately slowed her speech here, as if savoring a delicate dessert: "The consulate staff are extremely tight-lipped; they never discuss important intelligence in the cafeteria."

He only inquired about trivial matters; his superiors had long since stopped valuing him and often wouldn't contact him for ten days or half a month.

At this point, she gently shook her head, the movement as elegant as if she were lamenting the imperfection of a performance rather than a person's fate: "This Wang Fugui isn't of great value, but he has been undercover for over six years after all..." She raised her eyes, her gaze meeting Zhou Zhengqing's: "He must know quite a bit about the Tianjin Military Intelligence Station."

Then, Nanzo Yunzi leaned forward by an almost imperceptible amount of time. It was such a subtle movement that Zhou Zhengqing would have been almost unable to notice it if he hadn't been so familiar with every subtle change in her expression and posture.

But this angle makes her neck appear longer and more graceful, and the small section of fair skin exposed at the neckline gives it a breathtakingly fragile feel.

Nanzo Yunzi looked at Zhou Zhengqing, her eyes flashing with just the right amount of respectful inquiry, the kind of deference a subordinate should show to a superior.

But deep within that light, something even more intense and aggressive seemed to be pulsating—the complex and indescribable emotions a woman feels when facing a man she both reveres and longs to conquer.

“General, this person…” Her voice lowered, carrying a seductive, persuasive quality: “Could we… transfer this person to our Military Police Headquarters? Let our Special Higher Police specialists handle the subsequent interrogation?”

She added, this time with a touch of appropriate concern: "I'm afraid the people at Maochuan Mansion will uncover even more, such as the deeper, more hidden network nodes of the Military Intelligence Bureau in the Tianjin Concession, or even... the Military Intelligence Bureau's Tianjin station might be exposed."

This proposal is entirely reasonable within the scope of authority.

The Military Police Command has jurisdiction over all cases involving military affairs, military dependents, military facilities, and matters "harming the interests of the Empire," including consulate security.

The Special Higher Police's intervention is perfectly legitimate.

More importantly, Nanzo Yunzi's intention was clear: she could not allow this person to remain in the hands of the Mochikawa Mansion.

"Yunzi, are you overestimating this person? How much could he possibly know about the Tianjin station of the Military Intelligence Bureau?" Zhou Zhengqing scoffed, unconcerned.

"General, six years! Six years just to infiltrate the consulate. The Chinese are very particular about seniority!"

"Six years without being exposed..." Nanzo Yunzi reminded her.

Zhou Zhengqing remained silent.

Bending down cast a deep shadow on the snow.

He scooped up a small handful of clean, soft snow from his feet. The snow was dazzlingly white, almost unreal against the backdrop of his black leather gloves. He slowly kneaded the snow in his palm, his movements focused and meticulous, as if performing some kind of ritual, feeling the subtle process of the snowflakes transforming from fluffy to firm, and then melting into icy water by his body heat.

Time flowed silently, with only the soft crunching sound of the snowball being kneaded in the palm of one's hand.

Just then, a light footstep broke the tense atmosphere.

Huizi ran over, swaying slightly, holding up a small piece of faded but still conspicuous red ribbon that she had picked up from somewhere.

Her little face was rosy from the cold, like a ripe apple, but her eyes were bright and sparkling, filled with the pure joy unique to her age, untouched by the world.

"Brother, here! For Grey!" She stood on tiptoe, trying to hold the ribbon high, her voice as clear as a silver bell: "It's red, and pretty!"

The icy expression on Zhou Zhengqing's face instantly melted away, replaced by a genuinely warm smile, even tinged with a touch of clumsy indulgence.

He took the red ribbon, carefully and even somewhat cautiously unfolded it, then knelt down in front of the snowman and began to tie it to the "arm" of the snowman "Grey" made from a dead tree branch.

Zhou Zhengqing tried hard to tie a bow, but failed twice and finally only managed to tie a crooked knot.

“Yes, our Huizi has good taste.” He said softly, reaching out to gently brush away the snowflakes clinging to his sister’s bangs, his movements as gentle as if touching fragile porcelain: “Huihui looks even more dashing and like a little warrior wearing this.”

His voice was completely different from when he was talking to Nanzo Yunzi earlier; it was warm, deep, and full of undisguised affection.

The transformation was so natural and so thorough, as if deep down he was truly just a loving older brother to his younger sister, rather than the military police commander of the Japanese-occupied Tianjin area.

I patiently comforted my younger sister and watched her continue to "decorate" the snowman with satisfaction, using pebbles for eyes and withered leaves for a mouth, while humming an off-key nursery rhyme.

Zhou Zhengqing then straightened up. He patted the remaining snow water off his hands with unhurried movements, and then looked back at Nanzo Yunzi, who had been standing quietly waiting.

“This person.” Zhou Zhengqing’s tone was very calm, as calm as the snowflakes falling in the air, yet as cool as the melting snow in his palm: “We shouldn’t interfere directly.”

Nanzo Yunzi's slender eyebrows lifted almost imperceptibly by millimeters. She immediately controlled her expression, simply straightening her body even more. This movement made her appear even more upright and accentuated the beautiful curves beneath her uniform.

She nodded slightly, gesturing as if to listen.

Zhou Zhengqing continued, "Since the person was dug up from Maochuan Mansion, let them interrogate him."

Pick two reliable people from the class who are skilled in interrogation and have tight tongues, and send them over under the guise of assisting with the case and exchanging experiences.

After a pause, Zhou Zhengqing gazed into the distance, as if pondering a deeper strategy: "Their main task is to 'observe,' to obtain firsthand information on the progress and results of the interrogations. But remember..."