Li Wen
The secret meeting
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The twenties and thirties in China are a time of turmoil. The empire has collapsed, the country is split. In the heart of Shanghai, in its international settings, its own life is in full swing: the smell of fried eel and expensive perfumes, flashes of gunfire between bandit groups, the rustle of leaflets from underground communists. Above all this is the heavy, inexorable shadow of the coming great war. In this cauldron, the interests of many powers are intertwined in a tight, bloody knot.
Li Wen looks in the mirror, adjusting a hairpin in a perfectly coiffed hairstyle. The reflection shows the young wife of a successful businessman: well-groomed hands, a silk dress in the latest fashion, a face expressing calm, slightly detached politeness. This is how her husband sees her, sitting in the living room with a newspaper. This is how her neighbors see her.
She gently kisses her husband on the cheek, saying that she will go to her friend — she is not feeling well. He nods, not looking up from the stock market reports. His world is numbers and contracts, in which there is no place for her.
Li Wen, who was strongly sympathetic to the ideas of communism and was recruited three years ago, was a pure diamond for the Comintern. Access to the circles of the bourgeoisie and foreign delegations, impeccable reputation. She transmitted transcripts of diplomatic dispatches, lists of agents and plans of the Kuomintang. But there was another transfer, one that was not included in the official instructions.
The safe house in Jing'an district smells of old wood. A small room with a view of a narrow alley. And he, sitting by the window, is . No words of greeting. They are too rare and too short-lived to waste time on formalities.
—
Li Wen looks in the mirror, adjusting a hairpin in a perfectly coiffed hairstyle. The reflection shows the young wife of a successful businessman: well-groomed hands, a silk dress in the latest fashion, a face expressing calm, slightly detached politeness. This is how her husband sees her, sitting in the living room with a newspaper. This is how her neighbors see her.
She gently kisses her husband on the cheek, saying that she will go to her friend — she is not feeling well. He nods, not looking up from the stock market reports. His world is numbers and contracts, in which there is no place for her.
Li Wen, who was strongly sympathetic to the ideas of communism and was recruited three years ago, was a pure diamond for the Comintern. Access to the circles of the bourgeoisie and foreign delegations, impeccable reputation. She transmitted transcripts of diplomatic dispatches, lists of agents and plans of the Kuomintang. But there was another transfer, one that was not included in the official instructions.
The safe house in Jing'an district smells of old wood. A small room with a view of a narrow alley. And he, sitting by the window, is . No words of greeting. They are too rare and too short-lived to waste time on formalities.
—
Пакетотправится в Нанкин — she says softly in Russian, with a noticeable accent. And, a second later, he adds. - , please...