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"Protect."

Yamada tilted his head slightly, "Zhou Sang has been in the military police for two years and has achieved great results through hard work.

This is protection, not custody.

If you find this place inconvenient, there is a quieter rest room underground at the gendarmerie headquarters, and I can arrange it."

No one in the east wing spoke anymore.

Yamada turned around and walked towards the Moon Gate. He stopped at the door without looking back:

"You are all valuable talents of the empire, please don't cause trouble to your respective superiors."

After he left, the east wing door was closed and locked with a click, and the west wing door was also closed and locked.

Ye Jingshu was alone in the west wing room, with a bed, a table, and a kerosene lamp.

The windows were nailed shut, leaving only a two-finger-wide crack that let in a little moonlight from the backyard.

There were four people in the east wing. Lao Zhou was squatting in the corner, holding a cool tea cup.

Xiao Li was sitting on the edge of the bed, twisting the corners of his clothes with his fingers. The thin clerk from the Chamber of Commerce was wrapped in a quilt and sitting in the corner with a pale face.

Standing by the window was a young staff officer wearing a navy uniform, with gold thread embroidering his cuffs.

"Why are you panicking?" the staff officer sneered, "I am from the Naval Operations Section. Colonel Yamada invited me here to serve as a staff officer, not to go to jail.

On the other hand, civil servants, do you keep your hands and feet clean on weekdays?Don't trouble me."

Lao Zhou jumped up, his face red and thick-necked: "Who do you think has unclean hands and feet?"

"Sit down!" The gendarme's voice came from behind the observation window, coldly, "If you keep making noise, there will be no food tonight."

Lao Zhou squatted back angrily.

The staff officer glanced in the direction of the west wing and lowered his voice: "Miss Shen is the translator personally selected by Colonel Yamada. Please pay attention when you speak."

"What are you paying attention to?" Lao Zhou snorted, "They are all locked up here, and they are still divided into three, six, and nine grades?"

No one spoke anymore. The military policeman behind the observation window coughed, and the room suddenly became silent.

On the first night, Ye Jingshu lay on the bed without taking off her clothes. The sound of leather boots outside the door came back and forth twice and gradually faded away.

The gendarme behind the observation window leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

She closed her eyes and shrunk to the ground. When she opened her eyes again, she was standing in the back alley of Lao Chen's Bookstore.

Lao Chen was adjusting the abacus when he saw her push the door open and come in, her hand resting on the abacus.

"Is it cold?" Lao Chen didn't ask anything else. He first handed over a coarse porcelain bowl with warm rice wine in it, "Cover your hands."

Ye Jingshu didn't answer it and took out a piece of waste paper folded into a square from her arms.

She unfolded it and laid it out on the counter.

There are no words on the paper, only a few fingernail marks: three horizontal lines, one vertical line, and another horizontal line.

Old Chen moved closer to the kerosene lamp and squinted at it.The lampshade was covered with dust and the light was dim.

He looked at those marks, frowned, and moved closer.

"Yangshupu?" His voice was very low, and his fingers were hanging on the three horizontal lines, not daring to touch them.

Ye Jingshu nodded and drew a line on the paper with her fingertips: "Berth No. 3."

Old Chen straightened up and stared at her for two seconds. His Adam's apple moved, as if he was swallowing something.

"When?"

"On the 15th, Yinshi."

The room was quiet for a moment.

Lao Chen's hand stopped on the edge of the table, his knuckles slowly turning white.

"Two ships," Ye Jingshu added, "Fuji Maru and Kasuga Maru."

Lao Chen didn't answer.

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