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

Sun Zheng didn't sleep well.

To be precise, he hasn't had a single good night's sleep since the day the cross-shareholding agreement was signed.

I rely on coffee to keep my energy up during the day, but my brain works even faster when I lie down at night. I toss and turn until three or four in the morning, then drift off to sleep for an hour or two before waking up again.

He knew there was a window of time between signing the contract and closing the deal.

The cross-shareholding agreement is clearly written.

The equity transfer between the parties will be completed within fifteen working days.

Fifteen working days, minus weekends, is about three weeks.

During these three weeks, either party may raise a "major anomaly challenge," and the delivery committee is obligated to respond to and review it.

This is a standard clause that his own legal team insisted on adding to prevent Lin Che from making any underhanded moves during the closing process.

He never expected that he would be the first person to use this clause.

On the morning of January 5th, his assistant placed a report on his desk.

Two pages, A4, printed.

There was no heading, no signature, only data.

The source was someone he arranged.

I've been keeping a close eye on the operational dynamics of Weiguang.

In the days following the signing, Weiguang showed no signs of celebration, internal commendations, or external publicity; its silence was unusual.

But it's not really quiet.

The report listed several points:

The cloud warehouses in 12 cities have simultaneously canceled their Spring Festival holidays, and a notice has been issued requiring all employees to remain on duty.

The purchasing department placed large-scale orders for disinfection equipment and medical supplies, including masks, protective suits, and forehead thermometers, far exceeding the normal operational needs.

The logistics system backend switched to "priority scheduling mode," a mode Xie Yu hadn't used during the Double Twelve shopping festival.

After reading it, Sun Zheng put the paper down.

What is he doing?

Buying face masks? Protective suits? Forehead thermometers?

Weiguang is in the logistics business, not a hospital, so why would he buy these things?

What pneumonia is it in Wuhan?

Twenty-seven cases?

Sun Zheng searched for the news and found that it was the same as what Xie Yu had seen that day, ranked after entertainment gossip and Spring Festival specials, with few people clicking on it.

He couldn't figure it out.

But he doesn't need to figure it out.

He only needs to know one thing.

During the settlement period, Lin Che made "unusual large-scale operational adjustments" without prior notification to the settlement committee.

Procedural justice.

These four words are the most lethal weapon that Sun Zheng learned in his twenty years of navigating the business world.

You can be wrong in every way, as long as you are procedurally sound, that's enough to give the other party a hard time.

The reverse is also true.

You can be right in everything, but if there are flaws in the procedure, you can still be manipulated.

His phone rang.

A relationship within the financial sector.

He spoke very quickly and in a low voice, probably because it wasn't convenient for him to be in the office.

"Mr. Sun, regarding the matter you asked me to investigate, there's a suspicious flow of funds at Weiguang. Fangzhou Fund, the offshore fund linked to Weiguang, recently had a sum of money transferred out of its Singapore SPV. The amount isn't large, but it triggered a borderline alert in the anti-money laundering system—not a red alert, but a yellow one, a borderline level, not enough to warrant filing a case, but…"

"But enough to make a story out of."

Sun Zheng finished speaking for him.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, probably to confirm whether or not to continue.

"Yes, enough to make a story."

Sun Zheng hung up the phone.

He sat in the chair, his right hand unconsciously touching the base of his palm.

The band-aid was still on; the wound had long since stopped hurting, and the edges were curled up, but he hadn't removed it.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

It's not exactly laughing; it's a kind of muscle memory.

He hadn't felt like he had a winning hand in a long time.

That afternoon, Sun Zheng's legal team took action.

It is very efficient.

Within three hours, an "Emergency Review Application Regarding Significant Undisclosed Funding Changes at Weiguang Technology" was submitted to the closing committee.

The document is very professional, and the wording is very sophisticated.

The two core charges are:

Article 1: During the closing period, Weiguang Technology exhibited large-scale abnormal fund transfer behavior, specifically as follows: its related entity (Ark Fund Singapore SPV) recently showed suspicious fund flows to Southeast Asia, which has triggered the edge alarm of the anti-money laundering monitoring system.

Article 2: During the delivery period, Weiguang Technology experienced an unreasonable surge in operating expenses, specifically: the cloud warehouses in 12 cities simultaneously canceled the Spring Festival holiday, and made large-scale purchases of disinfection equipment and medical supplies (masks/protective clothing/forehead thermometers, etc.), with the expenditures far exceeding normal operating needs, and no disclosure was made to the delivery committee.

Conclusion: An application has been made to suspend the closing process and initiate an independent audit.

The last paragraph of the document is particularly well-written.

It's not an accusation that Weiguang violated the law, but rather "out of prudence, it is recommended to temporarily suspend the closing process until it is confirmed that there are no significant risks associated with the aforementioned matters."

The principle of prudence.

These four words are more effective than any accusation because they require no evidence.

It only requires "reasonable suspicion".

After receiving the documents, the delivery committee had no choice.

According to the standard terms of the agreement, if any party raises a material objection, the delivery committee is obligated to respond within 48 hours of receiving the application.

There are only two response options: rejection or suspension.

Rejection requires sufficient reasons, while suspension only requires "careful consideration".

They chose to pause.

On the afternoon of January 6th, the official notification from the closing committee was sent to the three parties—Alibaba, Tencent, Baidu, and the legal department of Weiguang Technology:

Given that Alibaba has submitted an "Emergency Review Application," the closing process is suspended immediately in accordance with Article 12, Paragraph 3 of the agreement, and will resume after the independent audit is completed.

Two hours after the notification was sent out, Qian Minghui made a private phone call.

It wasn't a call to Sun Zheng, it was a call to Xie Yu.

"Thank you, Mr. Xie."

"Mr. Qian."

"Did you see the notification?"

"I saw it."

Qian Minghui spoke in a flat tone, as if he were talking about something that had little to do with him.

"You guys know about this internally, right? Sun Zheng submitted the application, and procedurally we have to go through with it. I personally have no objection, and Tencent isn't taking sides, but the closing committee has already issued a suspension notice, and this process has to be completed."

Xie Yu gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles turning slightly white.

When will the audit team arrive?

"Next Monday, people from the Big Four accounting firms."

How long is the cycle?

"Normally, it takes two to three weeks, depending on how well you coordinate."

Xie Yu paused for a moment.

Qian Minghui waited, but didn't urge him.

"Okay," Xie Yu said.

Less than ten minutes after I hung up the phone, Zhou Guoping called again.

More direct.

"Mr. Xie, you're all aware of Sun Zheng's move, right? It's just a formality, get it over with as quickly as possible. Baidu has no objections; we're waiting for the audit results."

Just going through the motions.

Xie Yu put his phone on the table.

The 410 billion transaction has been suspended.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the computer screen in front of him.

The PDF of the Abyss warning report was still open on his desktop; he had already read it twice that afternoon.

The data is indeed abnormal.

Searches for medical supplies are rising in Wuhan, as is the density of ride-hailing services and mask sales.

These numbers are real; Abyss's data collection is accurate.

but.

Between "data anomalies" and "cloud warehouses in 12 cities across the country canceled the Spring Festival holiday, reserved 30% of their capacity for emergency storage, and made large-scale purchases of medical supplies."

That's too big a leap.

If the auditor asks him: Mr. Xie, can you explain why your company activated a nationwide emergency response plan because of 27 cases of pneumonia in Wuhan?

What could he say?

Because the Abyss report shows "high risk"?

The report is one thing, but 27 cases is 27 cases.

Every year, there are many clusters of pneumonia cases of unknown cause across the country, and some of them eventually become nationwide epidemics.

Auditors aren't stupid; they've seen more reports than Xie Yu has eaten meals.

Because Chairman Lin asked me to do it?

This is not the answer.

This is shirking responsibility.

The auditor would write in the report: The company's COO stated that the relevant decisions were based on the founder's personal instructions and could not provide sufficient commercial justification.

He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his brow.

He trusts Lin Che, and that has never changed.

From that classroom at Yong Sheng Garment Factory, to the darkest moment of the 10 billion yuan subsidy, to clearing out 100,000 items in 7 seconds, to the credit purchase exceeding 10 billion yuan overnight, to the cross-shareholding forcing the signing of the agreement.

Every time he felt the sky was falling, Lin Che was always right in the end.

But in the past, at least he could understand the logic behind those events afterward.

Why can credit purchases be successful?

Because consumers' pockets have been emptied, their spending power needs an outlet.

Why do live streams go viral?

Because the supply chain is streamlined, we have an overwhelming price advantage.

Why can cross-shareholding agreements be signed?

Because the stock prices of BAT (Baidu, Alibaba, Tencent) are falling, they have no bargaining chips.

Looking back, every step made sense.

But this time is different.

This time, he couldn't see the logic.

27 cases of pneumonia, nationwide alert.

The logical chain in the middle is broken; he stands at one end of the break and cannot see the other end.

He believes in Lin Che!

But he couldn't explain Lin Che's situation.

When facing an auditor, he becomes an executor who knows nothing.

A person who signed a document but couldn't explain why they signed it.

This feeling is worse than distrust.

Distrust has at least one clear direction.

You think he's not good enough, and you object.

But "believing but not understanding" is hanging in the air; your intuition goes left, your reason goes right, and you are torn apart in the middle.

He sat there for a long time.

It was dark outside, and the corridor lights automatically switched to energy-saving mode, dimming the light by half.

He took a deep breath and stood up.

Walk through the corridor and head towards Lin Che's office.

The sound of his footsteps echoed on the empty floor, a little muffled; he was wearing soft-soled sneakers today.

The door opened.

Lin Che was looking at the computer screen. Xie Yu couldn't see the content on the screen clearly, but judging from the reflection, it should be some kind of data chart.

The tea on the table had been replaced with a new one, but judging from the color, it had been over-brewed.

"Chairman Lin."

Lin Che raised his head.

"Sun Zheng has proposed a motion to suspend the closing, and the auditors will move in next week."

Xie Yu's voice was steady; he had suppressed his emotions on the way here.

"I need to know how I explain these recent procurement and logistics adjustments to the auditors?"

Lin Che looked at him.

Only the desk lamp was on in the office, leaving a dim, half-lit atmosphere between the two people.

The night view of Hangzhou unfolds outside the window, and in the distance, a building's rooftop is illuminated by a red aviation warning light, flashing slowly.

Then Lin Che smiled.