The richest man started taking advantage of loopholes after joining Alibaba.

May 2013, Hangzhou, Huaxing Times Square.

"Next, Lin Che."

The HR's cold voice cut through the stifling atmosphere of the waiting room like a scalpel.

Lin Che did not get up immediately, but slowly turned off the hot iPhone 4S in his hand.

The winding crack in the upper right corner of the screen cut "2013" on the calendar in two.

Ten minutes ago, his memory was still stuck on a rainy night in 2025.

As the chief compliance officer, he had just signed off on taking the blame for the company when he was thrown into jail.

And now.

Lin Che glanced down at the cheap, pilling suit he was wearing, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips.

Since fate has allowed me to reload my save and return to this day...

This time, I won't be the compliance manager who takes the blame.

I want to be the one who sets the rules.

Ten minutes ago, my memory was still stuck on a rainy night in 2025.

As the chief compliance officer, I had just signed the memorandum of understanding when the vice president who had promised to protect me was pushed out to take the fall.

Iron bars, moldy bedding, and a long three-year prison sentence.

Now, he is wearing the cheap suit he bought at the wholesale market during his senior year internship.

The cuffs were worn and pilling, and the tie was so tight it felt like a noose, making it hard to breathe.

There were seven or eight young people sitting around, most of them dressed in overly formal attire, looking uneasy.

Some people are silently reciting Alibaba's core values, while others are constantly refreshing their phones with tech news.

Lin Che stuffed his phone into his pocket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt collar.

In his previous life, he rigidly adhered to the rules, plugging countless loopholes for the company, only to end up in prison himself.

In this life, I return with a head full of "Compliance Audit Standards" and the business secrets of the next ten years. I won't be a watchdog; I'll be a wolf that eats meat.

"Next, Lin Che."

The sound came through the frosted glass door, slightly hoarse.

Lin Che stood up, without taking a deep breath to calm himself like the others, picked up his briefcase from beside him, and pushed open the door to enter.

The interview room was small, with an oval white conference table taking up most of the space.

There were two people sitting opposite me.

On the left is a young HR person wearing black-rimmed glasses, who is marking up a rating sheet with a pen.

To my right sat a middle-aged man wearing a faded gray polo shirt with a slightly high hairline, casually twirling a Montblanc pen in his hand.

The moment Lin Che saw the middle-aged man, his pupils contracted slightly.

It wasn't the originally planned product director.

It's Lao Xiao.

Ten years later, he became the group's CEO; now, he's the COO.

In the previous life, he was the one who signed "agree" on that crucial compliance document and personally sent Lin Che to prison.

"sit."

Old Xiao didn't even look up, his gaze still lingering on the rather thin resume.

"23 years old, just graduated a year ago, and you've worked on the operations of two obscure apps... Your resume is quite ordinary."

The HR person next to him adjusted his glasses: "Mr. Lin, the original interviewer had a last-minute meeting, and since Mr. Xiao happened to be passing by, he will be conducting the interviews himself."

The voice implied "You've hit the jackpot," and the pen in his hand was already hovering above the "Eliminated" column.

Lin Che pulled out a chair and sat down, placing his briefcase beside his feet.

"Thank you, Mr. Xiao."

Old Xiao finally raised his head.

Those eyes were venomous, like they could strip a person naked.

He tossed the Montblanc pen in his hand onto the table.

The pen rolled twice on the smooth desktop, making a "gurgling" sound, and stopped at the edge of the document.

"I don't have much time, so get straight to the point."

Old Xiao leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced.

"Now that Tencent has WeChat, if we want to develop a mobile platform, where do you think we should start?"

This was a life-or-death question that kept the entire Alibaba senior management team up all night in 2013.

It is also a standard stress test.

According to the established procedure, at this point we should be discussing "differentiated social networking," "social circles among acquaintances," or "socialization of e-commerce."

Just like the rating sheet in the HR department's hands.

But Lin Che knew that all those answers were wrong.

He didn't say anything.

Stand up.

Under the astonished gazes of the two, he walked to the whiteboard on one side of the conference room.

Traces of the previous meeting remained on the whiteboard, along with several complex organizational charts.

I picked up the eraser and scrubbed it a few times.

Dust filled the air, making people's throats itch.

Draw a circle in the center of the whiteboard and write two words:

Scenes

"If you want to create a 'Taobao version of WeChat,' I suggest you end the interview now, because you're doomed."

Lin Che turned around and pointed at the two words with his marker.

The HR person frowned and slammed their pen down on the table, seemingly trying to interrupt the young man who was spouting nonsense.

But Lao Xiao didn't move; he just narrowed his eyes slightly.

The look in a hunter's eyes when he sees his prey.

"WeChat has captured the 'people' aspect, which is in Tencent's DNA. If Alibaba wants to survive, it must capture the 'things' aspect."

Lin Che pulled off the cap of the black marker with a crisp "pop".

The pen tip slid rapidly across the whiteboard, producing a screeching sound.

Draw three lines around the "scenario": payment, life services, and high-frequency transactions.

"Don't focus on social networking, focus on tools. Let Alipay move from the background to the forefront."

"Right now, Alipay is just a cashier; users pay and leave. We want to turn it into a wallet, a utility bill payment counter, and a movie ticket window."

"First, make him unable to leave you, then make him fall in love with you."

Old Xiao tapped his fingers lightly on the table, the rhythm quickening.

"continue."

Lin Che wrote a date in the upper right corner of the whiteboard: 2014.1.30.

Next year's Lunar New Year's Eve.

"As for traffic..." Lin Che looked at the date, his voice as calm as if he were reading a verdict, "It's impossible to wait for Tencent to make a mistake. We must create a war."

"Attack Pearl Harbor." He uttered those five words.

"What do you mean?"

Old Xiao leaned forward, his gray polo shirt folding into a crease at the chest.

"Chinese New Year red envelopes".

Lin Che drew a red box under the date.

"By digitizing red envelopes during the Spring Festival, this is the only opportunity to instantly break through WeChat's social network. If WeChat does this next Spring Festival, and Alipay doesn't..."

He paused, looked into Lao Xiao's eyes, and said, slowly and deliberately:

"Then Alibaba's wireless strategy is truly over."

The meeting room was eerily quiet.

The only sounds were the buzzing of the air conditioner vents and the HR's rapid breathing.

The HR person had completely stopped taking notes, their mouth slightly open, their gaze shifting back and forth between the two individuals.

He didn't quite understand strategy, but he could sense that the young man was talking about something terrifying.

Old Xiao stared at the whiteboard for a full minute.

That's Alibaba's way out for the next five years.

It was also the point that he had been conceiving in his mind for a long time, but had never been able to connect with the whole thing.

Now, this 23-year-old has drawn it out with just a few lines.

Snapped.

Old Xiao picked up the Montblanc pen on the table and put the cap back on.

A crisp metallic clang broke the silence.

"Your name is Lin Che, right?"

Looking at Lin Che, Lao Xiao's scrutiny vanished, replaced by undisguised admiration.

How much salary do you want?

This is an indication of a top-tier offer.

If it were any ordinary person, their heart would probably be pounding at this moment, and they would cautiously give out a number.

But Lin Che did not.

I gently placed the marker in the whiteboard tray, dusted off my hands, and sat back down in my chair.

Looking at Lao Xiao, the man who would send him to prison in the future.

"I don't want a high salary."

Lin Che spoke calmly, as if discussing today's weather.

"I need permission."

Old Xiao raised an eyebrow: "What kind of access?"

"I'm going to the 'Laiwang' project team."

The sound was very steady.

"Furthermore, I want the project team to have independent approval authority for external traffic procurement."

Old Xiao was stunned for a moment.

"Laiwang" is a key project that the group is about to promote, but it is also a tough job. Everyone inside knows that it is a waste of time and effort.

Should a newcomer have independent approval authority?

That's against the rules.

"Reason?" Old Xiao asked.

"Because I want to prove to you how I turned those theories on the whiteboard into cash flow."

Lin Che told a lie.

A flawless lie.

I need that permission not to prove anything.

It was because he knew that, as a failure for Alibaba, the "Laiwang" project team would have a budget of 1 billion yuan wasted in the coming year.

Rather than letting these headless flies waste it, it's better to put it in your own pocket.

He plans to help the company "spend" it properly.