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

Chapter 597 I need time!

Four pairs of crossed hands remained on the table for about ten seconds.

For ten seconds, the radiator in room 607 was still running, the fluorescent light was still on, and it was still dark outside the window.

But the things on the table are different from what they were ten seconds ago.

It's not that the document has changed, it's that the meaning of the document has changed.

Then the head of national security made a move.

He loosened his hands, laid his fingers flat on the table, palms down.

He paused for two seconds, as if making a final confirmation.

Then he spoke.

"Mr. Lin Che."

This time he did not omit the word "sir".

The first three times I addressed him as "Mr. Lin Che" during the four meetings were just a formality, part of the opening remarks.

This time, the "gentleman" met a different fate.

It's not heavy, but it's stable.

"I need to take back what you showed me today."

The key is the phrase "take it back".

It's not "I need to think about it," nor is it "Let's discuss it further."

It means "take it back".

Taking them back means that these things will be seen by more people.

He reached to the right side of the desktop and took the third folder.

The five pages of the joint regulatory plan.

He placed the folder on top of his dark blue folder, the two folders stacked together.

One blue, one gray; one old, one new.

The blue one belongs to Beijing Guoan; I've worn it four times, and it was on every single time.

The gray one belongs to Lin Che; it's appearing on this table for the first time today.

Now put the gray one on top of the blue one.

"The technical assessment," he tilted his head slightly, glancing at the people on either side of him, "will be done by them."

"Specific times and methods will be communicated through Attorney Shen's channels later."

The man on the left nodded.

The woman on the right also nodded.

The two nodded almost simultaneously.

"But directional decisions aren't made in this room."

This statement is very clear.

Room 607 is just a node, not the end.

All he could do was take the materials out of this room, into another room, and report to someone at another level.

Lin Che didn't know who was sitting in the other room or what standards they used to make decisions.

"I need time."

Four words.

Not too much, not too little.

It didn't say how long it would take, nor what would happen when the time was up.

Four words encompass all the possibilities.

After he finished speaking, he took his hands off the table and placed them on the armrests of the chair.

This was the first time he had placed his hand on the armrest during the four meetings.

Previously, his hands were always on the table, either pressing down on a folder, crossing them, or holding a pen.

Placing it on the armrest signifies that the matter on the table has come to a temporary end.

Lin Che nodded.

"good."

One word.

The two people glanced at each other.

It didn't last long, about a second.

The head of national security stood up from his chair.

The technical evaluation team members on both sides stood up.

The wheels of the three chairs made a soft sound on the ground at the same time, as if the movements of the three people had been rehearsed.

The head of national security began tidying up his desk.

Timeline table, comparison table, original documents from the SEC investigation, all retrieved into the dark blue folder.

The movements were practiced; each piece of paper had its place, without much thought or hesitation.

He paused when he received the last one.

That was a comparison chart, with six horizontal lines and a few words he wrote in the lower right corner.

He glanced at the lines and put the comparison table into the folder.

In the middle of the table were the handwritten note, the envelope, and fragments of sealing wax.

He did not accept it.

That belongs to Lin Che.

Lin Che also stood up.

He walked to the table and put his things into his briefcase.

Two folders, thirteen pages of printed manuscript, handwritten paper, and an envelope.

He picked up the wax shard with two fingers and put it into the envelope; the shard made a soft sound at the bottom of the envelope.

A red fragment with half a steel stamp on it.

The briefcase was zipped up.

The desktop is empty.

The oval tabletop was restored to its original state when I entered, clean and spotless.

Two and a half hours ago, this desktop was covered with files; now they're all in their places.

Those from Guoan should go back to Guoan, and those from Lin Che should go back to Lin Che.

The third folder is the only exception.

It remained.

The head of national security walked to the door.

He stopped and turned around.

Lin Che stood on the other side of the table, his briefcase in his left hand.

The two people stared at each other across an empty oval table.

The head of national security extended his right hand.

Lin Che looked at the hand.

Neatly trimmed nails, with faint pen marks on the index finger.

There were four meetings, and the first three times they never shook hands.

Each time it ended, the person in charge of national security would leave first, and Lin Che would wait a few minutes before leaving.

There was no physical contact between them.

This is the first time.

Lin Che switched the briefcase to his right hand, then switched it back to his left.

Extend your right hand.

The two shook hands.

The force should be moderate, and the duration should be approximately two seconds.

It's not a firm handshake, nor a perfunctory touch.

The National Security official's palms were dry, and slightly warmer than Lin Che's.

two seconds.

Loosen up.

When the hand loosened, the national security official's fingers touched Lin Che's palm one last time, whether intentionally or unintentionally, it was unclear.

The head of the national security agency turned and left.

The technical assessment team followed behind, with the men in front and the women behind.

The sound of footsteps faded away down the corridor.

The motion-sensor lights flickered on and off, and the shadows of the three people grew longer and shorter with each change of light.

The corridor fell silent once the footsteps completely disappeared.

Lin Che was the only one left in room 607.

He stood at the doorway, looking at the empty corridor.

The light at the end of the corridor was off, but one in the middle was still on.

He didn't breathe a sigh of relief, didn't lean against the door frame, and didn't close his eyes.

He glanced back at room 607.

An empty oval table, eight chairs, and a half-drawn curtain.

There are a few faint marks on the desktop, where folders were placed.

It's exactly the same as when I first came.

But things are different now.

The first time he came, he sat in that chair with his palms all sweaty.

When I left for the fourth time, my palms were dry.

He picked up his briefcase and walked out of room 607.

The corridor was quiet, and the sound of leather shoes stepping on the plastic floor was very soft.

The elevator reached the first floor, and the doors opened.

The lights in the lobby were still on, the conveyor belt of the security screening machine had stopped turning, and the security personnel had gone home.

Lin Che walked out of the building.

The December night wind in Beijing hit my face, dry and cold.

The frost on the road was thicker than when we arrived, and it crunched when we stepped on it.

He stood at the doorway and looked up at the sky.

The Beijing winter night sky is starless, with only the lights of a few buildings in the distance.

Something is missing from my bag.

The third folder remained on top of the dark blue folder.

They brought five things and took four things away.

The one thing he kept was the joint supervision plan that he had written nine times.

He lowered his head and walked to the side of the road.

His pace was neither too fast nor too slow.

The streetlights cast a long shadow over him as he walked step by step on the frosty pavement.