Shipwrecked on an Island

In the autumn of 1936, on a train from Nanjing to Shanghai, 27-year-old Lu Chenzhou walked into the deepest darkness of the city with a transfer order and an old rattan box. He is the most outstanding graduate of the special training class of Hangzhou Military Command. The instructor said that he had "the most discerning eyes" - he could identify a person's problems from a newspaper that had not been turned for three hours, and he could piece together a city's intelligence network from an expired agency directory. But he also had an unspoken judgment from the instructor: his body could never keep up with his eyes. Shanghai is not Nanjing. There are no archives here, just people. Under the plane trees on Xiafei Road in the French Concession, the sound of lighters in the second-hand bookstore on Sima Road, the bridge in the Japanese-occupied area of ​​Hongkou that does not allow Chinese vehicles to pass - every step is on the boundary line of intelligence warfare. Chen Mingyuan, the leader of the military reunification team, seems gentle, and he is playing chess with every smile; Gu Chunshan from the used bookstore is so ordinary that people cannot remember his face, but he is the single-line liaison officer of the underground party of the Communist Party of China; Lin Xueqing, the editor of "Declaration", is his only relative, but is being asked by the organization to establish an information channel that penetrates the organization where he works. When the forged identity begins to bite back on the true self, when intelligence warfare changes from work to a way of survival - how can a person survive the deception he has spun until the day the truth is revealed? 1936 To 1945. Shanghai. A war without archives. Anyone can be anyone, but no one can always be someone else.