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

Late at night in the Binjiang Industrial Park, the air is always filled with a sense of anxiety.

That's the bitterness of coffee beans that's been over-ground, mixed with the smell of expensive cologne and the sweat that's produced when people are in a confined space.

The door to the "war room" was tightly closed.

A pale light shone through the gaps in the blinds.

The air conditioner was set to 18 degrees Celsius, and the vents were whirring loudly, blowing directly at the long table.

But the people sitting at the table had oil dripping from their foreheads.

Li Mo stood in front of the whiteboard, the red marker in his hand almost breaking in his hand.

The projector light shone on his face, distorting his well-maintained features.

The screen displays a PDF entirely in English, with Goldman Sachs' dark blue logo printed in the upper left corner.

That was the feedback report from the first round of roadshows.

"Can someone explain to me why, even though our DAU (Daily Active Users) increased by 30%, our valuation model was cut by 15%?" Li Mo's voice was low, as if he was suppressing a gritty feeling in his throat, "Why is it that even though our DAU (Daily Active Users) increased by 30%, our valuation model was cut by 15%?"

No one spoke.

The P8 operations director stared down at the Montblanc pen in his hand.

The P7 data expert pretended to frantically take notes in his notebook.

Li Mo turned around abruptly, his marker scribbling across the whiteboard.

That's a growth curve representing "low-priced customers".

The pen tip made a harsh scraping sound as it scratched against the smooth whiteboard.

A bright red cross runs across the curve.

The ink was too thick, and the red liquid flowed down the whiteboard like a winding trail of blood.

"Rubbish."

Li Mo slammed the two-hundred-page report onto the table.

The paper slid across the solid wood conference table, still carrying momentum, and knocked over the Starbucks drink that was not yet finished.

The brown latte spilled out, quickly staining the orange "Alibaba" logo on the cover.

That famous smiling face instantly became filthy.

"Those guys on Wall Street only care about profit margins, not the beggars lining up outside department stores."

Li Mo tugged at his tie, the collar tightening so much that he could hardly breathe.

"These three million new users have an average order value of less than fifteen yuan. However, their logistics complaint rate is three times that of core users. They are taking up 20% of the server resources."

He looked around, his gaze sweeping across everyone's face like a searchlight.

"For IPOs, this is data poison. It's a tumor. It's medical waste."

The meeting room was deathly silent.

Only the projector's cooling fan was humming.

Everyone avoided Li Mo's gaze.

Responding at this point is like walking into the line of fire. Cleaning up users is a matter of course if done well, but if done poorly, it makes you a scapegoat for mass customer complaints.

A "click" sound came from the corner.

That's the sound of pressing a ballpoint pen.

It was very light, but exceptionally clear in the deathly still air.

Li Mo frowned and looked over.

Lin Che sat in the seat closest to the door, twirling a cheap fountain pen in his hand.

He stared at the still-flowing red ink stain on the whiteboard, his tone as calm as if he were discussing tomorrow's weather.

"Mr. Li, since it's useless, we need to hire a professional cleaning service to clean it up."

Lin Che stopped twirling his pen and lightly tapped the tip on the table.

"I'll do this job."

Li Mo's office is on the top floor.

Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the dark waters of the Qiantang River flow.

The paper shredder is working.

The gears meshed, making a teeth-grinding shredding sound. The previous version of the "User Growth Plan" had turned into tiny scraps of paper, piling up in the transparent wastebasket.

Lin Che stood in front of the desk and handed over a document with both hands.

The cover features a line of bold text: "Solution for the Stripping and Cleaning of Non-Core Traffic Assets".

Li Mo took the document and flipped through it quickly.

The sound of papers turning echoed in the quiet office.

His gaze skipped over the nonsense about "user experience" and "feedback mechanisms" and stopped directly on the budget section on the last page.

There were three words written there: Zero Budget.

Li Mo stopped what he was doing.

He looked up and scrutinized the young man in front of him.

I was promoted to P7 in less than half a year after joining the company, and I handled the logistics for Singles' Day. Now I'm voluntarily jumping out to do this dirty work.

"What do you want to do?" Li Mo closed the document.

"Guidance and diversion."

Lin Che pointed to the terms on the document, "A direct ban would cause public outcry, which is a bad idea. We can define these users as the 'non-standard test group' and guide them to a separate server environment through pop-up windows."

"reason?"

"System maintenance, or service downgrade." Lin Che paused. "To appease the public, I'll find a third-party partner company to send each user who is penalized a 'compensation bonus' of 5 yuan."

Li Mo raised an eyebrow: "The company won't pay?"

"It's provided by a third party. They need traffic for testing; what we consider garbage is treasure to those small companies outside."

Lin Che spoke very sincerely.

This is a very standard "Alibaba-style" mindset: resource exchange and ecosystem empowerment.

Li Mo smiled.

He picked up the official seal from the table.

The red inkpad has dried out a bit.

He breathed on the seal and then slammed it down heavily on the "Asset Stripping Authorization" at the end of the document.

"Bang."

A muffled thud.

The red mark was stamped on the signature column, and because it was pressed too hard, the edges were slightly white.

"Be cleaner."

Li Mo tossed the document back to Lin Che, "Don't let these poor bastards cause trouble online and affect next week's roadshow."

Lin Che took the document.

He didn't leave immediately, but instead, in front of Li Mo, meticulously organized the file folder.

I gently flicked a speck of dust off the paper with my finger.

Then, carefully place that priceless "Letter of Authorization" into the file folder.

Winding.

One lap, two laps.

The cotton thread tightened around the button, forming a knot that couldn't be tied back.

"Don't worry, Mr. Li."

Lin Che picked up the file folder, bowed slightly, and said, "I will make sure they go where they belong and never appear in Alibaba's financial statements."

Li Mo waved his hand, signaling him to leave.

The paper shredder is still running.

Li Mo thought he was throwing away trash.

Only Lin Che knew that it was a legal gold mine transfer certificate.

When I got back to my workstation, it was already 2 a.m.

The large open space was still brightly lit.

The programmers' keyboards clattered incessantly, like a never-ending downpour.

Lin Che sat down, unscrewed a bottle of mineral water, and took a sip.

The water was cool, and as it flowed down my esophagus, it made me feel refreshed.

He turned on his computer and plugged in the black encrypted USB drive.

The screen was split in two.

On the left is Alibaba's internal data monitoring backend, displaying the "low-priced customer" curve that gave Li Mo a headache.

On the right is a terminal interface with black background and green text.

That's a private server hosted under Alibaba's "Double Eleven High-Pressure Test Cluster"—that is, the backend of "Micro Group Buying".

Lin Che entered a series of commands.

Press Enter.

A line of green text popped up on the screen: [Execute Clean_Up_Protocol? (Y/N)]

Lin Che extended his index finger.

My nails were neatly trimmed, gleaming with the cold light of the computer screen.

No hesitation.

"clatter."

Y.

Almost simultaneously, millions of users across China who were browsing Taobao late at night looking to buy "9.9 yuan shipping included" garbage bags, toilet paper rolls, or even counterfeit sneakers had their phone screens suddenly flash.

A pop-up window obscured the original Taobao interface.

[System Maintenance Notice: We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience caused by current service congestion. Click the button below to claim a 5 RMB cash compensation and continue shopping in the trial version.]

For middle-aged women who are used to haggling over 50 cents at the market, or college students who carefully budget their living expenses in the dormitory, the allure of "5 yuan in cash" is immense.

Nobody bothers to read that small print "User Agreement Redirect Instructions".

Click.

Jump to the next page.

download.

register.

The data stream was like a floodgate opening, rushing wildly from the left screen to the right screen.

On Alibaba's backend graph, the number representing "spam users" began to plummet.

That was the "detox" that Li Mo had been dreaming of.

And on the right side of the screen.

The curve of new users for micro-group buying rises at an almost vertical angle.

85-degree angle.

This is the sexiest angle in the history of the Internet.

Holy crap.

My colleague, who works at P6, went to the break room to get some instant noodles. As he passed Lin Che's workstation, he glanced at the screen on his left.

He slurped up a mouthful of instant noodles and stared wide-eyed.

"Brother Lin, that's ruthless. Cutting millions of daily active users at once? These people are probably going to curse you to death on Weibo."

Lin Che did not turn around.

He stared at the constantly changing numbers on the right-hand screen: 5,120,342... 5,120,488...

It's jumping every second.

Those were his private soldiers, nurtured using Alibaba's servers, Alibaba's reputation, and even Alibaba's name.

"Some things just have to be done by someone."

Lin Che said casually and turned off the power to the right monitor.

The screen went black.

Only the hard drive read/write lights on the computer case were flashing wildly.

The red light flickered in the darkness, like the eyes of a greedy beast.