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

Chapter 321 The Four Numbers Before the Storm

Three days after the cross-shareholding agreement was signed, Weiguang's headquarters resumed its daily routine.

It's not quite accurate to call it everyday life.

It's more like the recovery period after major surgery. The person is still in the ICU with tubes inserted, but the electrocardiogram has stabilized, and the footsteps of the nurses coming and going have become lighter.

Xie Yu started making phone calls at eight o'clock in the morning.

The legal team is pushing forward with the legal handover process. The equity structures of the three companies are different. Alibaba's internal compliance review alone requires going through four stages. Tencent's legal team is more cooperative but requires all documents to be bilingual. Baidu's team is the most efficient, and half of the documents have already been signed.

Xie Yu held his phone between his fingers and scribbled on his notebook with one hand, the handwriting so messy that he couldn't recognize it after five minutes.

Across the corridor, the door to Xu Mingyuan's office was open.

He stared at the data in the credit purchase backend to review the operation, analyze the consumption behavior of more than 37 million users, track the credit exposure of more than 70 billion yuan, and the bad debt rate fluctuation curve.

He looked at the dense numbers and charts on the screen very slowly, occasionally clicking on a data node with the mouse, looking at it for two seconds, and then closing it.

On Chen Xuan's desk was a pile of media interview requests that were half a foot high.

Paper documents, electronic documents, and even direct phone calls—they have everything.

CCTV wanted to do an exclusive interview with Lin Che, Zhejiang TV wanted to film him, Caijing magazine wanted him as a cover story, and several self-media outlets that appeared out of nowhere said they wanted to have an "in-depth conversation with Lin Che".

She replied to each one, her wording as uniform as if printed from a copy machine: "President Lin's schedule is currently full, and he will not be accepting external interviews at the moment. Thank you for your attention."

By the time she made her fifteenth call, her voice was a little hoarse. She took a sip of water, and when she put the cup down, it hit the edge of the table with a crisp sound that startled her.

Everyone is wrapping things up.

Only one person is not there.

Lin Che did not attend the victory celebration banquet.

That night, the administration department booked four tables. Xie Yu went, Xu Mingyuan went, Chen Xuan arrived half an hour later, and even several middle managers from the logistics department came.

The head seat was empty; no one sat there. They'd drunk quite a bit, but the atmosphere was just missing something, like a hot pot without broth.

He didn't attend the year-end summary meeting either. Xie Yu gave the presentation on his behalf. The PPT had been prepared in advance, and he read it aloud. The people below applauded, but there was an indescribable politeness in the applause.

Lin Che's office door was ajar, and the lights were off inside.

Xie Yu passed by at 2 PM.

He had just finished a 40-minute phone call with Alibaba's legal department, his throat was parched, so he went to the break room to get some water.

I slowed my pace a little as I passed Lin Che's office. I didn't stop intentionally, but I glanced inside.

The gap in the door was small, and you could see part of the whiteboard.

The whiteboard was clean and tidy.

All the previous operational plans, such as the logistics scheduling diagram, the credit purchase launch timeline, and the live streaming traffic funnel model, were erased.

wrong.

There's a small patch in the bottom left corner that wasn't wiped clean.

The ink on the four numbers was already very faint, as if it had been wiped away by an eraser but not completely, leaving a hazy gray shadow.

0123.

Xie Yu glanced at it but didn't pay any attention.

It's probably some kind of password, or the end of an IP address, or some kind of data number.

He turned and went to the tea room, poured himself a cup of hot water, and scalded his tongue.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, he finished organizing his work list for the day and knocked on the door of Lin Che's office.

The lights were on, but only the one on the table was on.

Lin Che sat in a chair looking at his computer, the screen light reflecting off his face, making it appear white and bluish.

There was a cup of tea on the table. The tea was very dark in color, obviously because it had been steeped for too long, and the tea leaves were standing upright at the bottom of the cup.

Xie Yu sat down, opened his notebook, and began to read.

"The year-end bonus plan has been submitted by the administration department. I've roughly reviewed the allocation for each department, and there are no problems. You can just take a look. As for the server expansion budget, the technical department reported 34 million, which I think is a bit too high. We'll reduce it further later. The customer service and logistics departments have already come up with preliminary plans for the Spring Festival duty schedule."

He turned a page.

"A batch of equipment in the cloud warehouses in Hangzhou, Shenzhen, and Chengdu needs annual maintenance, and the supplier can schedule it before the Spring Festival. There are also cold chain systems in Wuhan and Changsha..."

He looked up at Lin Che, who was listening but didn't say anything.

Xie Yu continued reading.

"By the way, what about Wuhan..."

His tone was as casual as if he were reporting an air conditioner repair.

"There seems to be some news about pneumonia. The National Health Commission issued a report with 27 cases, and the logistics department is asking if they should adjust the disinfection procedures at the Wuhan station."

After he finished speaking, he waited for Lin Che's response.

In the normal course of events, the worst that could happen is that the logistics department decides for itself or that the standard disinfection procedures are followed first.

Lin Che paused for a moment.

Less than a second.

But Xie Yu noticed that Lin Che had responded quickly to the previous seven reports, sometimes nodding before Xie Yu had even finished speaking.

That extra second, less than a second, seemed particularly noticeable in the smooth flow of an afternoon.

"Drivers at Wuhan Station should not be given early leave."

Xie Yu paused for a moment, then wrote it down.

"All cloud warehouses in Hubei province will have all staff on duty during the Spring Festival."

The pen paused again. He looked up.

"The disinfection process has been upgraded to the highest standard."

Xie Yu's pen stopped, not touching the paper.

Lin Che looked at him, speaking slowly, but each word sounded like an instruction.

"Have Abyss run a public health early warning model. Get all the data: the search volume for medical supplies in Wuhan over the past month, the density of ride-hailing orders near hospitals, and mask sales data from pharmacies. Give me a report tomorrow."

Xie Yu wrote all of this down.

The characters were written with more pressure than the previous ones because I unconsciously applied more force with my hand.

He closed his notebook and didn't stand up immediately.

"Chairman Lin, twenty-seven cases..."

He carefully considered his words.

"Is it really necessary for Abyss to run alerts across the entire system?"

Lin Che picked up the over-brewed tea, took a sip, and put it down.

His expression remained unchanged, as if those four instructions had the same priority as the year-end bonus plan.

"run."

Xie Yu nodded and stood up.

As he reached the door, he glanced back.

Lin Che had already turned his attention to the computer screen, as if nothing had happened.

He went out and stood in the hallway for two seconds.

I feel like something's not right, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

Twenty-seven cases of pneumonia.

All staff on duty, highest disinfection standards, Abyss runs alert.

This response is disproportionate.

Forget it.

As he walked toward his office, his mind had already shifted back to the documents related to the legal handover with Alibaba.

I need to go over the details of the terms with the lawyer tomorrow, so time is tight.

The office of Lin Che fell silent.

He picked up his phone, opened the news app, and typed four words into the search bar: "Wuhan pneumonia".

There were only a handful of results.

The top story was entertainment news, with a male idol group member being exposed for faking his fan data.

The second item on the list is a special report on the Spring Festival, stating that "30 billion passenger trips are expected during the 2020 Spring Festival travel rush."

The news about the Wuhan pneumonia was squeezed into the seventh or eighth position, with a bland title and a readership of over three thousand.

There were only a few comments. Some said "Pay attention to hygiene," and others said "Could it be SARS?" followed by a dog emoji.

He placed his phone face down on the table.

Stand up and walk to the whiteboard.

The four numbers in the lower left corner are still there, 0123, but they are hazy and almost invisible unless you look closely.

He picked up the eraser and wiped it.

The whiteboard is completely clean.

He stood motionless in front of the whiteboard, clutching the eraser in his hand, a little white powder on his knuckles.

Twenty-one days.

The thought flashed through my mind and then vanished, like a cigarette butt falling into water.

He put down the eraser, returned to the table, picked up his phone, opened his contacts, and scrolled down.

The phone number's location is Singapore.