Listening to the broadcast, it was hard for us to judge whether or not this was indeed one of the enemy frequencies we were looking for. For now, the best option was to transcribe what was being broadcast and have it decrypted. Afterwards we could decide if Abing had indeed identified an enemy frequency. Section Chief Chen took down a page and then handed it to me before continuing with his transcription. I hurried off to the cryptography division and had them set to work immediately decrypting the page. We had to be sure whether or not Abing had discovered one of the missing enemy frequencies. By the time I returned to Abing and Section Chief Chen, the cryptography division was calling us. I listened to their report, put down the receiver and rushed over to hug Abing. ‘Abing, you’re amazing!’ I yelled.

Afterwards, I realized that tears were streaming down my face.

14

Every person of a certain age in my home town remembers that because the Japanese military encountered unexpected resistance in Nanjing that resulted in the deaths of quite a few of their soldiers, they unleashed a series of brutal revenge attacks and murders; what eventually became known as the Nanjing Massacre. Once they reached my home town, they were still in a rage and still hell-bent on revenge. They were determined to destroy the whole goddamn place, and so they slaughtered, looted and raped their way across the countryside, committing all manner of unspeakable evil. That said, my family was relatively fortunate, due in large part to my father’s foresight: more than a year before the Nanjing Massacre, he had sent me, my mother and two sisters to Wuxi County in Jiangsu. The small village we lived in was on the banks of Lake Tai. Most of the villagers made a living by fishing in the lake, and my uncle was actually a fisherman of some renown. In the winter when the fish swam deeper and deeper into the depths of the lake, the fishermen usually returned to the village empty-handed, all except my uncle. Not once did he return with nothing. His bamboo basket would always be filled to overflowing with fish and other lake delicacies. His unique method for seemingly accomplishing the impossible was this: on the surface of the water he was able to discern in the mass of bubbles and foam which bubbles were produced by hibernating fish and which weren’t. He would then launch his net, a net from which nothing could escape.

The way in which Abing was able to identify the enemy radio stations reminded me of my uncle: it gave me the same feeling. Like him, Abing was able to distinguish which bubbles were made by fish and which weren’t, and what’s more, he could see all of the different species of fish swimming about. He could tell whether they were carp, crucian carp, or what have you.