Just as dawn was breaking, the car drove out of the city limits and came out on National Highway XX. This alarmed Rong Jinzhen very much, and his head whipped from side to side. He thought, ‘Aren’t I supposed to be staying in the same city — the address was a local post-box, No. 36 — why are we going on a national highway?’ When Zheng the Gimp had taken him yesterday afternoon to complete the paperwork to do with his hiring, the car had turned again and again — not to mention the fact that for fully ten minutes they had insisted that he wear dark glasses so he could not see where they were going — but he could have sworn that at no time did they leave the city limits. Now the car was whizzing along the highway, he realized that they must be going somewhere very far away. Puzzled, he asked,‘Where are we going?’
‘To the Unit.’
‘Where is that?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Is it far?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Aren’t we going to the same place as yesterday?’
‘Do you know where you went yesterday?’
‘I am sure it was somewhere in the city.’
‘You have already infringed the oath you swore. . ’
‘But. . ’
‘No buts. Repeat the first part of the oath you swore!’ ‘Everywhere I go, everything I see and hear is accounted classified information and I am not allowed to mention it to anyone.’ ‘In future you had better remember it! From here on in, every thing you see and hear is top secret. . ’
At nightfall, the car was still en route. Scattered lights could be seen in the distance, suggesting a medium-sized town. Rong Jinzhen was keeping his eyes peeled — he wanted to know where he was.
Zheng the Gimp demanded that he put dark glasses on. By the time he was allowed to take them off again, the car was moving along a mountain road with numerous hairpin bends. On both sides of the road there was forest and mountain scenery, but there was not a single road-sign or even any kind of marker to indicate where they were. There were many twists in this mountain road; it was narrow and pitch-black. The car headlights lit up the darkness — the beam of light seemed concentrated, fixed upon the road — as clear and bright as a searchlight. Sometimes he felt as though the car were not being propelled forward by its engine, but as if the light were pulling it along. They proceeded like this for about another hour. Far in the distance, Rong Jinzhen could see a couple of spots of light on the side of the dark mountain — that was their destination.
There was no sign on the gate. The man who opened the gate was missing one arm and sported a livid scar across his face, starting at his left ear and proceeding across the bridge of his nose, until it finally came to an end on his right cheekbone. When Rong Jinzhen caught sight of him, he was instantly reminded of the pirate stories he had read as a child. The surrounding buildings were completely silent, looming out of the darkness. This too reminded him of the medieval castles that figured so prominently in the foreign fairy stories he had read. Two people walked out of the gloom — they looked like ghosts.
As they came closer, it became apparent that one of them was a woman. She came over to shake hands with Zheng the Gimp, while the man got into the car and started lifting Rong Jinzhen’s luggage out.
Zheng the Gimp introduced Rong Jinzhen to the woman. In his scared and unhappy mood, Rong Jinzhen didn’t catch her name — he just heard that she was department head something-or-other and that she was the director here. Zheng the Gimp told him that this was Unit 701’s training base. All new comrades had to come here to receive political education and professional training when they joined Unit 701. He said, ‘When you have finished your basic training, I will send someone to collect you. I hope you will finish soon and become a fully-fledged member of Unit 701.’ When he had finished speaking he clambered back into the car and drove off. It was almost as if he were a human trafficker — having collected his wares in some other part of the country and delivered them to the purchaser, he now washed his hands of the whole situation without the slightest hesitation. One morning, some three months later, just as Rong Jinzhen was getting out of bed, he heard the sound of a motorbike pulling up outside his bedroom. A short time later he heard someone knocking on his door. Opening the door, he saw that a young man stood outside. The man said, ‘Section Chief Zheng sent me to come and collect you. You’d better get ready.’
The motorbike took him away, but it did not drive in the direction of the main gate. Instead it headed deeper into the complex, right into a mountain cave. There was in fact a huge cave complex there, spreading out in all directions; one opening out into the next, like a maze. The motorbike continued on and after about another ten minutes they stopped at a round-topped steel door. The driver got off the bike, went in and then came out again shortly afterwards; then they proceeded on the bike. After a further short space of time, the bike emerged on the far side of the underground complex and a series of buildings many times larger than the training centre unfurled before Rong Jinzhen’s eyes. This was where the mysterious and secretive Special Unit 701 was based, and this was where Rong Jinzhen would spend the rest of his life. His work would be conducted on the far side of the round-topped steel door that the motorbike had stopped next to just a few minutes before. The people here called this series of buildings the Northern Complex; the training centre was known as the Southern Complex. The Southern Complex was the gateway to the Northern Compex — not to mention being its checkpoint: there was something of the feel of a moated citadel accessible only by a single drawbridge to the whole thing. A person who did not pass the inspections at the Southern Complex would never be able to so much as gain a glimpse of the Northern Complex — that drawbridge was never going to be lowered for him.
The motorbike proceeded on its way, before finally coming to a halt in front of a redbrick building entirely covered in creepers. The delicious smell of cooking that came wafting out informed Rong Jinzhen that this must be a canteen. Zheng the Gimp happened to be eating inside and when he spotted Jinzhen through the window, he got up and came outside, still clutching a bun in his hand. He invited him in.
He still hadn’t had breakfast.
The dining hall was full of all sorts of people — there were both men and women; young and old. There were some people wearing military uniform, some in plain clothes; and there were even some wearing police uniform. During his time at the training centre, Rong Jinzhen had been trying to work out what kind of unit this was. How was it organized? Was it military or was it attached to the local government? Now, looking at the scene before him, he was completely confused. He thought to himself, ‘This must be one of the special features of a Special Unit. In fact, in any Special Unit, in any secret organization, there are naturally going to be many unusual features. Secrecy is at its very core. It is ever-present, like a note of music humming through the air.’
Zheng the Gimp took him through the main dining hall and into a separate room. The table there was already laid for breakfast. There was milk, eggs, stuffed buns, plain buns, and a number of little side dishes.