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

Old Zhou arrived at 5 p.m.

Lin Che had just closed Fang Yuan's chat window, his phone still in his hand, the WeChat screen still showing the word "here".

As he placed his phone face down on the table, he heard footsteps in the hallway, heavy thumps, the sound of hard-soled leather shoes on the tiled floor.

There was no knocking.

He just pushed the door open and came in.

He was holding the enamel mug in his hand, just like always.

But the tea being steeped in the jar wasn't Tieguanyin.

Lin Che figured it out from the color.

The brewed Tieguanyin tea is a deep amber color, and the white inner wall of the enamel mug is stained with a ring of light brown from the tea stains.

But today the water in the tank is a light green color, shallow, with a few curled leaves floating on the surface, not completely sinking.

"Did you change the tea?" Lin Che asked.

"Biluochun tea," Old Zhou placed the jar on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa, "the New Year is almost here."

New Year approached.

So I switched to Biluochun tea.

Lin Che didn't quite understand the logical relationship between the two things, but Lao Zhou never explained cause and effect when he spoke. He just said "the New Year is coming soon" and that was it. You just have to accept it.

Maybe I ran out of Tieguanyin tea, maybe I wanted a change of pace for the New Year, or maybe there was no reason at all.

"Have you eaten?" Lin Che asked.

"I've eaten, at the cafeteria."

Are there still people in the cafeteria?

"I was the only one there, so I got some food."

Old Zhou's coat was dark blue and very old, with pilling on the cuffs.

After he sat down, he glanced at the office first, then looked back at Lin Che.

"You've lost weight."

"No."

"I've lost weight; there's less fat on my neck."

Lin Che touched his neck and didn't feel that anything was missing.

But Lao Zhou is more accurate at judging people than a mirror.

"How's the second batch going?" Lin Che asked.

"It's stable," Old Zhou said, taking a sip of Biluochun tea from his enamel mug. After finishing, he smacked his lips, as if he hadn't fully gotten used to the tea yet. "Temperature control is 99.7%, no fluctuations for two consecutive weeks, even more stable than the first batch."

99.7.

"Yes," Old Zhou nodded, "There's nothing wrong with the engine. I've been keeping an eye on it while you were away, and it's running normally."

He spoke casually about "the time you were away," without asking where Lin Che had gone or what he had done.

Old Zhou never asks.

If you're here, you're here; if you're not, you're not. He'll show you the data when you come back, and that's it.

The Biluochun tea leaves slowly sank into the enamel mug, and the light green water became clearer.

Old Zhou's way of drinking tea is different from when he drinks Tieguanyin. He gulps down Tieguanyin, but he holds Biluochun in his mouth for a moment before swallowing.

The sky outside the window began to darken. It was five o'clock in the afternoon at the end of December. The sun sets early in Hangzhou, and the office lights cast reflections on the windowpane.

"Any news from GAN-7 lately?" Lin Che asked.

This question was asked casually. GAN-7 is one of the core data centers in the second batch of CCPS, and it is deployed in Hangzhou.

Old Zhou put down the jar.

His hand paused for a second on the edge of the jar, a pause that didn't seem like he was thinking about how to answer, but rather whether or not to speak.

"Two groups of people arrived."

Lin Che glanced at him.

When Lao Zhou said those three words, his expression didn't change much; he still had that quiet face. But it was unusual that he brought it up on his own initiative.

Old Zhou is the kind of person who will only answer if asked, and won't answer if not asked.

He brought up this topic himself today.

"Who is it?"

"They said they were here for a routine inspection," Old Zhou said, putting the enamel mug in his other hand. "The first group was last Wednesday, four people. They checked the physical safety and fire protection of the computer room, stayed for about an hour and a half, a normal inspection."

He paused for a moment.

"The second wave is a little different."

Old Zhou picked up his enamel mug and took another sip. This time he didn't smack his lips; he'd probably gotten used to drinking Biluochun tea all afternoon.

"The second group also consisted of four people, who came on Friday, but they weren't the kind who were checking fire safety," Old Zhou said a little slower. "They were looking at the computing power allocation, asking about the total computing power, the peak utilization rate, and the scale of expansion that the redundant computing power could support."

Who granted access permission?

"They're using the GAN-7 management's regular visitor channel; they don't need our approval."

Visitors can enter the GAN-7 data center without needing Weiguang's approval, which means that they are using the data center management's own channel, not Weiguang's tenant channel.

Those who can use the management channel are either the client of the data center or the client's client's client.

"What should I wear?" Lin Che asked.

"Suit."

"A tech guy wearing a suit to inspect a server room?"

Old Zhou glanced at him.

"Doesn't seem like a technical field."

These four words were spoken very softly.

Old Zhou isn't someone who can analyze the identity of visitors. He's the chief engineer of the engine, in charge of temperature control and computing power. He cooperates when people come and continues working when they leave.

But he specifically said "they don't seem like they're from the technical field," indicating that the four people's temperament and behavior were completely different from the technical personnel he usually encountered.

When technical staff enter the server room, they first look at the equipment; these four people, however, first look at the layout.

"Did they ask you anything?"

"No, they dealt directly with the people in the server room; they didn't contact us."

How do you know they asked about computing power allocation?

"That's what the guy in the server room told me," Lao Zhou said. "He said the people who came asked very detailed questions, down to the power density and cooling solutions for each server rack."

When asked about the power density and heat dissipation solutions of the server racks.

This is not within the scope of routine checks.

This is an assessment of whether this data center can handle larger-scale tasks.

Lin Che did not press the matter further.

Old Zhou didn't say anything more.

He picked up the enamel mug and finished the rest of the Biluochun tea. He turned the mug upside down, and the last few leaves stuck to the bottom.

"Alright, if there's nothing else, I'm leaving," Old Zhou stood up, pulled his coat tighter, and tucked in the hem. "Don't stay up all night."

Lin Che almost burst out laughing.

He hasn't stayed up all night for almost a month, but Lao Zhou's farewell words are always those three words.

"Um."

Do you have any plans for the Chinese New Year?

"I haven't thought about it yet."

"Let me know when you've made up your mind," Old Zhou said, carrying his enamel mug to the door. He glanced back at the mug, "The Biluochun tea is good; I'll brew you a cup another day."

The door closed.

The footsteps in the corridor gradually faded away. Old Zhou was wearing those hard-soled leather shoes, which thumped as he walked.

Lin Che remained seated.

It doesn't seem like a technical field.

Wear a suit.

Question: What is the scalability of computing power?

Do not take the path of dim light.

We used the client's channel, which is the same as the data center management's channel.

The client's client.

Not many people can enter GAN-7 with this identity.

He didn't call anyone.

The sky outside the window was completely dark, and the lights in the building across the street were gradually turning on.

On the coffee table, where Old Zhou once sat, there's still a shallow, round mark left by the enamel mug.

The delicate fragrance of Biluochun tea hadn't completely dissipated; it lingered faintly in the warm air from the air conditioner.