TYSUF – Chapter 68 Vast Old Rivers and Mountains (6)

“I really didn’t expect them to arrive so early. Be ready, we’re getting off.” Zhou Li, still without having time to put on his overcoat, carried it in the crook of his arm as he moved through the train carriage, where the temperature was below minus ten degrees.

Shen Xi returned with Fu Tongwen to the private compartment, waking the Fifth Master and Peide. Tan Qingxiang also soon returned. After a brief rest, they followed the delegation off the train.

In the snow, the sky showed faint signs of light, with glimpses of stars and the moon.

“This is my first time seeing the South Manchuria Railway,” she whispered in awe. “The snow here is much thicker than in the south.”

“The snow outside the pass is the most beautiful,” he replied with a smile.

She asked softly, “This route includes Yokohama and New York. Is it because there will be private talks with Japan and the US first?”

“Yes.”

The US feared Japanese expansion in Asia, and Japan feared American interference in Asian affairs. So both arranged high-level diplomatic activities, awaiting the Chinese delegation’s transit. Fu Tongwen did not feel pleased by this; no matter how warm the reception, it could not hide one fact: China was the sheep, waiting for two hungry wolves to duel.

He said softly, “However, our minister in the US has already reached an agreement with Wilson. America will support China at the Paris Conference. So, we are aiming to ally with the US against Japan.”

Would Japan simply back down?

Shen Xi felt a subtle worry.

Fu Tongwen, as if reading her concern, added, “The Chief is a seasoned diplomat; he has ways to handle this.”

They changed cars, and the sun had just risen.

In the morning light, the snow-covered land stretched before her like a blank scroll of rice paper.

It was a land fought over by a pack of wolves—so beautiful, so serene.

Shen Xi gazed into the distance from the car window.

After the Russo-Japanese War in the 30th year of the Guangxu reign, Russia handed part of the railway it had built in the Three Eastern Provinces to Japan, renaming it the South Manchuria Railway. She had long felt uneasy about it because Japan mentioned it in the “Twenty-One Demands.” Later, too many events occurred around this railway: the birth of Japan’s main invading force, the Kwantung Army, the Huanggutun Incident, the September 18 Incident, and the puppet Manchukuo…

But on that day, when they passed by, none of it had yet happened.

That night, they arrived in Fengtian and were hosted by the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

After the banquet, they immediately boarded a train to Seoul. Upon arrival, the diplomatic chief suddenly claimed to be ill, saying he caught a chill on the night train and his old ailment flared up, making it difficult for him to walk. He refused further audiences.

A few days later, the delegation reached Yokohama, staying with overseas Chinese in Chinatown.

This was Japan’s foreign port and a hub for foreigners. Choosing to stay here allowed the delegation to immediately depart for America whenever the ship schedule was ready.

Upon arrival in Yokohama, the Chief avoided invitations from the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Japan had arranged a series of diplomatic events, including an audience with the Emperor, awards ceremonies, and tea parties, all of which the Chief declined with the excuse, “I am ill and cannot sit for long.”

Endless telegrams flew between China, the Chinese minister in Japan, and the Chief, full of debate.

Daily, newspapers in both countries speculated wildly, guessing at the reasons why the diplomatic chief suddenly fell ill and refused to meet the Japanese Emperor.

The outside world was in an uproar.

Only where they stayed was completely quiet, the snow falling lightly and no wind blowing.

The Fifth Master walked in holding a newspaper, smiling. “Third Brother, do you want to hear it? I memorized all the translated parts.”

Fu Tongwen took the newspaper lightly with two fingers, examining it carefully.

The newspaper was explicit, accusing the Chinese diplomatic chief of “pretending to be ill” to avoid friendly communication with Japan. At the end, it claimed there were deeper secrets, though inconvenient to disclose.

“Japanese newspapers spread many rumors, always trying to guide public opinion,” Fu Tongwen said, putting down the paper. “I hope domestic papers are not all pro-Japanese, or it will stir suspicion among the people.”

“You can read Japanese?” the Fifth Master asked, stunned.

“I, in the past, supported the reform along with your Fourth Brother. Naturally, I can read this,” he replied, setting down the paper.

“I see…” The Fifth Master felt a twinge of regret. “Third Brother kept it from me all this time, not a word, almost breaking my heart.”

She smiled. “Your Third Brother once said, if you truly have ambition, you need no companion, nor anyone to guide you.”

“And you already knew that,” the Fifth Master said, surprised.

“Anyway, earlier than you knew.”

“You’re too much, really too much,” the Fifth Master said, laughing and crying at the same time.

Shen Xi handed Fu Tongwen his medicine bowl.

Whether the diplomatic chief was truly ill or pretending, Fu Tongwen was now really sick.

On the night train from Fengtian to Seoul, he had already started feeling chills and fever. The carriage was below minus twenty degrees; upon arrival for a banquet, the room was heated by charcoal, warm like midsummer. Alternating hot and cold was exhausting for anyone.

Someone like her, with a good constitution, would recover after two days’ rest; Fu Tongwen had to wait for the illness to manifest.

However, his spirits were good, so it was not too serious.

After seeing him take the medicine, Tan Qingxiang sent away the idle staff to the dock to check the ship schedule. For them, each additional day in Japan meant another day of trouble; they wished to board the ship tonight.

Shen Xi prepared his bedding. “You should nap now; you’ll start sweating soon.”

Fu Tongwen sat on the floor, smiling at her, then suddenly whispered, “Yesterday, I felt your pajamas—they were completely soaked.”

Shen Xi retorted, “You like to hug people while you sleep. You don’t even notice your own sweating, and you make me feel like a drenched chicken…”

He laughed. “When did I ever hug you while sleeping? I don’t remember. Every day?”

Seeing that he wasn’t being serious, she didn’t answer.

“This is subconscious, no wonder, Third Brother,” he chuckled again, “It’s the kind of hidden longing that doesn’t reveal itself—it’s already set deep in the bones.”

…

“One sleeping posture, and you can even talk about longing,” she muttered.

“If I weren’t so exhausted, Third Brother could probably teach you even more secrets of this, believe it or not?”

“I believe you.” She pointed at the teapot, signaling for him to lie down while she continued.

He wasn’t in a hurry. “How about drinking some tea first, then sleep?”

“You can’t drink tea when taking medicine.”

His eyes, glistening, looked at her.

Though she didn’t say it, Shen Xi’s heart ached seeing him always lying down to recover. She could only boil water for tea.

In no time, the water began bubbling.

She lifted the lid, burned her hand, and hurriedly pinched her earlobe to cool it down.

“Tong Wen,” Zhou Lixun, wearing a thin shirt and covered in snow, ran into the courtyard, “The Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ car has already arrived.”

He kicked off his shoes and entered the room.

“Here to do what?”

“To pick up the Director General and go to Tokyo.”

“That’s no invitation—they’re forcing it,” he remarked.

“You even have the heart to joke,” Zhou Lixun said gloomily.

Fu Tongwen was helpless. “Since they sent the car, even if the Director General is too sick to get out of bed, they’ll carry him there,” he shook his head, “There’s no stopping it.”

Zhou Lixun didn’t respond.

Fu Tongwen paused, then asked, “What’s the arrangement for them in Tokyo?”

“They won’t come back tonight. The Director General will stay in the Ministry’s official residence,” Zhou Lixun said. “First, meet our own minister to Japan, then the Japanese Foreign Minister tomorrow, and the night after, visit the Meiji Emperor’s mausoleum at Momoyama in Kyoto.”

China’s minister to Japan was pro-Japanese and had been threatening the Director General with resignation daily to make him go to Tokyo.

“With such an arrangement, they’ll stay overnight in Tokyo the following night,” Fu Tongwen frowned. “If they return the day after, that’s already fast.”

“But the ship’s departure is already scheduled; they leave the morning after,” Zhou Lixun echoed. “I really worry they might miss it and have to stay here another ten-plus days. The variables in ten days—no one can predict them.”

Fu Tongwen remained silent.

Shen Xi glanced at him and poured tea for both of them.

An hour later, the Director General left for Tokyo with two advisors.

Once he was gone, the delegation was engulfed in gloom: afraid of changes in Tokyo, afraid of assassination, afraid of being forced to stay and miss the ship, arousing American suspicion…

By the next day, the atmosphere in the courtyard was extremely tense.

At dinner, the hostess brought food to Shen Xi’s room and quietly asked why the delegation had seemed so subdued since yesterday, eating very little.

Shen Xi couldn’t speak about diplomatic matters, so she vaguely explained that she was worried that heavy snow might delay the ship.

The hostess laughed instead. A delay wasn’t so bad—an extra ten-plus days meant they could stroll around Yokohama, especially visit the mountain hot springs, which were particularly enjoyable. She regretted that the visit had to be so rushed, leaving no time to properly entertain their compatriots.

Shen Xi managed a couple of polite replies and accepted the food.

After dinner, night had fully fallen.

Zhou Lixun had bought tickets for tomorrow morning, but there was still no news from Tokyo, not even a telegram.

Everyone guessed whether the Director General had decided to reschedule.

Fu Tongwen, on the other hand, thought there was still a chance they could board on time.

“Perhaps no telegram has come because the pro-Japanese Japanese minister is interfering,” he whispered.

“Mm.” Shen Xi nodded.

He borrowed an ivory chess set from the hostess, sat cross-legged under the lamp, pouring all his focus into the game. His dark suit jacket draped over his shoulders, the shadow naturally falling on her body and arms.

A stack of Japanese newspapers on the table had been read countless times in the past two days.

Shen Xi wasn’t new to “waiting” with him. Back at Xu Garden, she had waited for news of Sixth Sister in the same way: every second filled with anticipation, speculation, and worry for the other’s safety…

She propped her chin on her hands, watching him play. After a long while, her throat grew dry.

Her legs went numb.

The small Western-style clock on the low table pointed to 1 a.m.

“You…” she finally spoke.

Fu Tongwen looked up.

She had originally wanted to persuade him to sleep, but guessed that lying down wouldn’t help him rest, so instead asked, “Are you thirsty?”

“You don’t notice until you ask,” he said with a soft laugh. “Now that you ask, I am a bit.”

“I’ll get a glass,” she said.

“Isn’t there a teacup?” He nodded toward the Japanese teacup on the table.

“Tonight, we’ll do it the way you like.”

A large glass cup steeping tea—this was a habit Fu Tongwen had developed while studying abroad.

She wanted to cheer him up.

Shen Xi opened the door: “It’s in the kitchen. I’ve seen it. Wait for me to come back.”

Her shoes were outside the door. She bent down and brushed the snow off them, suddenly noticing a light not far away.

It was the light outside the General Director’s room.

A young counselor was holding an umbrella to shield from the snow, and under the umbrella stood the General Director—who should have been in Tokyo…

“Third Brother! Third Brother!” she blurted out.

The General Director heard her, first smiled, and looked in her direction from afar.

Fu Tongwen braced himself on the floor, straightened up, and quickly stepped out, exchanging smiles with him.

The General Director nodded with a smile and said to the gathered juniors: “My gout is severe; I need to take some medicine. Thank you all for your hard work tonight. As usual, we’ll depart early tomorrow—don’t let this delay official matters.”

With that, the General Director’s wife had already stepped out of the room, helped him take off his shoes, and assisted him back inside.

The counselor was surrounded, being asked about matters in Tokyo and why he had returned to Yokohama ahead of schedule.

The counselor took the tea Shen Xi handed him, cleared his throat, and then explained the whole sequence of events. When the General Director arrived in Tokyo, he was detained by a pro-Japanese Chinese envoy for a meeting. Pretending to be ill, the General Director avoided discussing any diplomatic matters, only complaining about the unbearable gout. Even when he met the Japanese Foreign Minister during the day, he only sat for twenty minutes before falling ill.

Finally, he only left instructions for another counselor to visit the Meiji Emperor’s tomb in his place.

Having extricated himself this way, the General Director immediately returned overnight, barely making it on time.

Laughter rose and fell throughout the courtyard. Two days of gloom dissipated; everyone’s sleepiness vanished as they packed their luggage that night.

Before dawn, fearing any further complications, they hurried to the pier.

Just before boarding, someone hurriedly brought a Japanese newspaper. The General Director read it, frowning deeply. He passed it to those behind him for perusal, and finally, it reached Fu Tongwen.

“What happened?” Shen Xi felt a pang of fear, worried they wouldn’t be able to board.

“The paper says that a Chinese counselor was shot at while on the way to the Meiji Emperor’s tomb.”

Shen Xi was shocked.

The General Director sighed deeply and spoke softly: “The Japanese are deceitful; their newspapers spread many rumors. Let’s board first.”

Assassinations of diplomats were not uncommon. In the past, Li Hongzhang had also been shot at in Japan—this was a risk every diplomat had to face. If the report were true, a telegram would follow after boarding, and the resident envoy in Japan would handle it.

Whatever happened, nothing could stop the delegation from departing on schedule.

The pier was chaotic, crowded with people from all countries. If an assassination attempt occurred, it would be impossible to prevent.

Everyone heightened their vigilance, escorting the General Director onto the cruise ship.

Because there were few suites, Fu Tongwen gave the first-class cabins to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs personnel. They were booked in a first-class room.

An hour after the ship left Yokohama pier, Shen Xi’s heart slightly eased.

She opened the fabric suitcase and took out Fu Tongwen’s clothes, hanging them neatly in the wardrobe.

Fu Tongwen smiled, leaning against the door frame: “You finish unpacking first; I’ll go check the dining room.”

“Aren’t you afraid of danger?” she asked, pausing her work.

“I’m a patriotic businessman, what danger could there be?” he said lightly. “On the way, I’ll ask Zhou Lixun if any new telegrams have come.”

Not only was he concerned about the counselor; she shared the same worry.

Shen Xi walked over and whispered: “Then go, but remember to take your medicine when you return.”

“All right,” he said softly.

Fu Tongwen entered the first-class area. Several suite doors were open, laughter spilling out, all in their hometown accents, which made him smile. Upon entering the General Director’s room, the living area was stacked with file boxes, leaving no room to stand.

Zhou Lixun and a counselor leaned against the boxes, smiling. Seeing Fu Tongwen enter, they handed him a telegram: “We were just about to find you; you arrived first. False alarm—the newspaper was spreading rumors.”

The telegram was short, sent personally by the counselor: the news about Jie’s fright in the Western Capital was completely fabricated.

Another case of news fabrication.

Fu Tongwen laughed, fully relaxing.

The General Director took the hot towel handed by his wife and, smiling, instructed them: “Good that Tongwen is here; help move the boxes a bit.”

“The young master’s health is delicate; how dare we trouble him,” the counselor joked.

Fu Tongwen shook his head with a smile, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work.

These file boxes had been moved from the Beijing residence and kept near the General Director and his wife—they contained crucial documents, all labeled in English with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The wife was meticulous, checking each box against a document, one by one, silently.

After checking, while Fu Tongwen and others were having tea, she whispered: “The T-marked wooden box is missing.”

Everyone froze.

The General Director, holding the teapot, paused immediately.

“How could this be? Check again,” he said, taking the detailed list himself.

The room was quiet except for the General Director’s footsteps and the scraping of boxes.

He quickly checked, holding the list, silent.

The T-marked wooden box contained top-secret diplomatic documents concerning Northeast China, Shandong, Mongolia, and Tibet—files most closely related to Japan, of genuine concern only to them.

Somewhere after passing through Japan, the entire box vanished.

Stolen so precisely, without a trace.

The General Director remained silent, recounting the boxes, finally confirming the fact.

He removed his glasses, leaned against the wall, and pressed his hands over his eyes.

After a long moment, he put on his glasses again and spoke gravely: “There are people from two governments in the delegation; the matter is delicate. It must not be made public. We’ll think of a solution once we reach New York.”