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

On the transfer page, the blue "Retry" button has turned gray.

Lin Che clicked the mouse.

The plastic casing made a hollow "click" sound, and the screen showed no response, like a dead painting.

The spare phone on the corner of the table started vibrating.

The message notification sounds in the QQ group merged into a series of sharp, shrill noises.

Lin Che opened the group called "The Headquarters of the Internet's Wool Party".

The IDs that were spamming "Brother Dao is awesome" and "Alibaba is so generous" just minutes ago have all changed their tune now.

The messages refreshed so fast that the words were illegible; the black text resembled a pot of boiling asphalt, churning with curses.

"fraud!"

"Give me back my deposit!"

"I knew this wouldn't happen, call the police!"

"Brother Dao, you son without an anus, come out here!"

The vibration stopped, and the bell rang.

The screen displayed two words: Brother Dao.

Lin Che answered the call, put it on speakerphone, and tossed the phone onto the table.

"Bro, are you kidding me?"

The voice on the other end of the receiver was no longer tinged with the polite,江湖-like manner; instead, it carried a ruthless edge, "Twenty thousand brothers sent out the link, and now they can't withdraw their winnings. My door is about to be smashed to pieces. If you don't give me an explanation, I guarantee your whole family..."

"System upgrade".

Lin Che interrupted him, his voice calm, "The risk control system is overloaded. It will be restored tomorrow morning."

"Don't try to fool me with those big-company jargon! I want my money right now..."

"beep."

Lin Che hung up the phone.

He bent down and reached behind the computer case to unplug the network cable.

The world is peaceful now.

Explanation is unnecessary.

Any attempt to appease this mob driven by profit will be interpreted as a sign of guilt.

Only by maintaining the arrogant silence of a large company can we keep them clinging to the hope that "it might really be a system problem" amidst their anger.

Lin Che turned off the monitor.

In the darkness, only the power indicator light on the computer case was flashing rhythmically.

One second, two seconds.

Like some kind of countdown.

He pulled the blanket over himself and closed his eyes.

The following morning, in the Binjiang Industrial Park.

The doors to the finance department were wide open.

When Li Mo walked in, his leather shoes made a crisp "clack, clack" sound as they stepped on the anti-static floor.

Two men in dark suits followed behind him, without name tags and carrying briefcases.

Among a group of programmers dressed in T-shirts and slippers, eating jianbing guozi (Chinese crepes), these three people were like a cold knife cutting into butter.

The constant clicking of mechanical keyboards, which had been rising and falling, began at the door and gradually receded inwards like a receding tide until it disappeared completely.

Li Mo walked straight to the workstation of CFO Lao Zhao.

"Get out of the way."

Only two words.

Old Zhao was still holding half a steamed bun in his hand. He paused for a moment, then instinctively stood up.

Li Mo sat down, took a black USB drive out of his pocket, and plugged it into the computer.

"Retrieve all fund flows of the 'Weiguang Media' associated accounts since 14:00 yesterday."

Two minutes later.

Old Xiao burst in, reeking of smoke. He had clearly just been woken up from bed, and one of his shirt buttons was fastened incorrectly.

"Li Mo, what are you doing?"

Old Xiao slammed the red-headed document marked "Special Case Handled" on the table. "This is a resolution from the senior management meeting! Are you disobeying orders?"

Li Mo did not turn around.

He stared at the densely packed transaction details on the screen, his finger tracing over each red number.

"Mr. Xiao, this is a special case, a business matter, not a crime."

Li Mo stood up, ignoring the official document, and instead took out a blue book from his briefcase—"Corporate Anti-Money Laundering Compliance Guidelines."

"The three million yuan budget from last night was split into more than 50,000 small transfers within ten minutes of being deposited into the 'Weiguang Media' account, and flowed to personal Alipay accounts across the country."

Li Mo's voice wasn't loud, but in the deathly silent office, every word sounded like a nail.

"This is not promotion."

He extended his index finger and pressed the tip against the screen, causing a ring of colorful ripples to spread across the LCD screen.

"In auditing standards, this is called 'breaking down a large sum into smaller ones,' which is called money laundering."

Old Xiao opened his mouth, but his gaze fell on the word "money laundering," and his imposing manner instantly diminished.

That's the red line.

In large companies, failing to meet KPIs might at most result in a deduction of bonuses, but crossing the line could land you in a sewing machine.

"Print it out."

Li Mo said to the man in the suit behind him, "Seal it as evidence."

The dot matrix printer in the corner started working.

"Sizzle—sizzle—"

The print head moved back and forth, spitting out a long, continuous string of wide sheets of paper, which piled up on the floor like a white shroud.

When Lin Che was led into the conference room, it was already full of people.

Li Mo sat in the main seat, Lao Xiao sat next to him smoking silently, and Lao Zhao from the finance department was wiping his sweat.

Outside the glass wall, a crowd of onlookers had gathered. Countless gazes were fixed on Lin Che's back like searchlights.

"Explain."

Li Mo pushed the thick stack of transaction records in front of Lin Che. The papers slid across the smooth tabletop and came to rest beside Lin Che.

"Where did the money go?"

Lin Che looked down.

The densely packed accounts were all payment records of Brother Dao's group of "wool party" members.

He didn't demonstrate the rudimentary "price comparison assistant," nor did he explain what "user rebates" meant.

Because it's useless.

In the compliance department's logic, a violation of process is a violation, and the result is not important.

If he tries to explain now, Li Mo will only think he's making excuses.

"This is a user incentive."

Lin Che's voice was very soft, "In order to pursue speed, I used a personal account for transit."

"So you admit it?"

Li Mo looked at him with the same gaze one would give to prey caught in a trap. "Funds misappropriated, fictitious transactions, Lin Che, do you know how many years are required to qualify for this?"

Lin Che didn't speak.

The wind he brought in when he entered the room ruffled his bangs.

He raised his hand and slowly and meticulously straightened his hair, his movements as delicate as if he were looking in a mirror.

"According to the Compliance Investigation Procedure, all your duties and authority will be suspended until the facts are clarified."

Li Mo held out his hand. "Employee ID, computer password."

Lin Che took off his employee badge from around his neck.

He wrapped the orange ribbon around his hand twice and finally placed the plastic card on the table.

"The password is 111111".

Lin Che pushed the employee badge over. The metal hook scraped against the table, making a long "sizzle" sound.

Old Xiao raised his head, hesitated as if he wanted to say something, and finally stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Let's go."

Li Mo put away his employee badge. "Keep your phone accessible during this time and cooperate with the investigation at any time."

Lin Che stood up.

He pushed the chair back into place, aligning the edge of the table with the chair back perfectly.

He turned around and pushed open the door.

The crowd outside the door scattered like a school of startled fish, making way for them.

Lin Che walked through the corridor without looking to the side.

He paused as he passed through the large office area.

The large data screen on the wall was still lit up.

Although the budget has been halted, the red line for new users has been broken.

But in the upper right corner of the screen, the number representing "Gross Merchandise Volume (GMV)" is quietly fluctuating.

500 million.

510 million.

Those 20,000 "zombie fans" who came to take advantage of the coupons are frantically placing orders on Taobao in order to spend the coupons they have.

The real data storm has only just begun.

Lin Che glanced at the number, put his hands in his pockets, and stepped into the elevator.