Beijing, Xicheng. An unmarked office handling a special investigation.
Warm sunlight had beaten down on the office building all morning, yet it had failed to bring the place a trace of warmth.
Armed guards stood at the entrance.
People streamed in and out of the courtyard, all walking quickly with document bags in hand.
Old Zhang pushed open the glass door and stepped outside.
The guard in the booth glanced up at him, then lowered his head again as though he hadn't seen him.
Hong Yi—or rather, Sun Mingchuan—had already been taken in.
He had stayed hidden for thirty-six years. He had changed both his identity and his name, and time had nearly swallowed every trace of his past.
Unfortunately, money always left a trail once it changed hands.
Old Zhang had just reached the roadside when his phone rang.
He answered and listened to the report from the other end.
"Okay, got it."
"Leave the overseas leads for now. Clear up the domestic ones first."
"Keep tracing that bridge payment through Meridian. Don't miss anyone."
Early the next morning, at the faculty housing complex on Peking University's Changping Campus.
Ma Wenbin, an associate professor at the School of Integrated Circuits, carried soy milk and two fried dough sticks as he strolled along the path outside the Weiming Institute toward home.
He hadn't changed his walking route once in the past two years.
When he reached his building, he saw a man in a dark jacket standing beside an old tree.
Old Zhang walked up to him.
"Associate Professor Ma Wenbin?"
"That's me. Who are you?"
Old Zhang showed him his credentials.
"We need to ask you about a few things. Sorry for the trouble, but you'll need to come with me."
The hand holding Ma Wenbin's breakfast trembled.