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

When Lin Che opened his office door at nine o'clock on Monday morning, there were already people walking in the corridor.

The lights on the side of the technical department were all on, and through the glass you could see people having a morning meeting; a few lines of text were written on the whiteboard.

He put down his bag, turned on his computer, and checked his email first.

The sky outside the window was overcast, a common sight in Hangzhou in early February.

The blinds weren't open, and the only light in the office came from the screens.

I received over a dozen emails over the weekend, most of which were system notifications and didn't require immediate attention.

One of the notices was from the administration department, which said that a fire drill would be conducted in mid-February and that each department should report the number of participants in advance.

He marked the email as forwardable and left it for the administrative contact person to handle.

The other email was a summary of the technical department's weekly report; he glanced at the title and skipped it.

Chen Wei hasn't sent a message yet.

Last Wednesday he said he would come to see me early next week, and now it's Monday, 9 a.m., and we haven't made an appointment yet.

Lin Che didn't urge him.

Chen Wei has his own pace in doing things; if he says "early next week," then it means "early next week."

He will decide whether it's Monday or Tuesday.

Just wait.

The morning was spent on the Africa line.

The effective date for Kenya's mining policy has passed; it was February 1st, last Thursday.

He changed that item from "pending confirmation" to "effective" in the survey checklist.

The question mark next to it wasn't deleted; it's left there until we verify it on the ground in Africa.

Abyss's prediction of the timing of this policy was accurate 68% of the time.

It hit the mark, but there's still no way to verify the 20% extension.

He mentally reviewed how many of the predictions within the 80% framework had been verified so far.

Kenya's mining policy is the latest one.

Previously, there were also LME copper price corrections, the DCEP pilot program timetable, and the SM4 delay optimization window.

The ones that match are reassuring, but the 20% extension is like a card that hasn't been revealed.

He looked at the 68% figure on the screen for a moment, then switched to the next document.

The third document is a summary table of electricity shortage data, with a new entry added last week: the World Bank's Open Database.

The data is outdated to 2021 and is not up-to-date.

He then searched for publicly available reports from the African Development Bank.

I found a mid-term assessment from 2022 that includes estimates of the power supply and demand gap in three East African countries.

The numbers and Abyss's predictions are in the same direction, but their definitions differ.

It cannot be directly used for cross-validation.

He pasted the link to the report below the entry, adding the note "caliber to be aligned".

As usual, Fangzhou checked the status page.

The transaction history of the six unfrozen accounts was similar to that of last week, with no large inflows or outflows.

The last abnormal deposit to the BVI frozen account was on December 22nd of last year.

More than forty days have passed since then.

Based on the previous interval pattern, the next one should be around the beginning of February.

17 days, 26 days, 38 days, each interval is longer than the last.

But he doesn't yet know what the widening gap means.

There may not be another one.

Chen Wei said the situation was "complex," and perhaps these figures would have a different meaning after today's meeting.

There was no point in thinking about uncertain things, so he shut down the Ark backend.

I briefly browsed the system management backend.

No new search records were added for Fang Yuan.

The most recent one was from last Wednesday, the one that was accurate to the hour.

I haven't checked it again since.

I don't know if they've found what they're looking for, or if they've simply changed their approach.

The backend can only record searches initiated through the system management portal.

If Fang Yuan directly checks the local cache on the local terminal, the backend cannot retrieve it.

He was aware of this blind spot.

He left the backstage area and didn't dwell on the matter any longer.

Around 10:30, he went to the tea room to get a cup of water.

The water dispenser's water tank was almost empty, and bubbles were rising to the surface, making a louder sound than usual.

On my way back, I passed through the corridor of the technical department and heard people talking inside, their voices very low.

The door was closed, and a frosted film was applied to the glass, making it impossible to see the people inside.

The emergency exit indicator light at the end of the corridor was lit in green, just like usual.

He didn't stop and walked back to his office.

As I passed by the finance office, I saw someone checking forms inside, with a stack of papers spread out on the table.

The red stamp was placed in the corner, and the lid was not on.

I returned to my seat and continued processing emails.

One of the letters was forwarded by Shen Nan; it was a draft of a legal memorandum.

The title is "Legal Risk Warning Regarding the Main Structure of the Three East African Countries".

The memo was very short, just two pages.

Shen Nan wrote only one sentence in the main text: "First draft, please take a look and provide feedback by Wednesday if there are any issues."

He opened the attachment and glanced at it; the content mainly consisted of the company registration process and foreign ownership restrictions in the three countries.

The section on Kenya is described in the most detail, taking up almost a whole page.

Tanzania and Uganda are about the same length, each occupying half a page.

Shen Nan's memos have always been in this style: few words, but every word has a source.

The second version of the 42-page legal framework was written in this way, one document after another.

He marked the email with an asterisk, intending to read it carefully that afternoon.

The sky outside the window was a little brighter than in the morning, but it was still gray.

A narrow beam of light shone through the gap in the blinds, landing on the table and illuminating the watermark on the bottom of the cup.

He took a sip of water, glanced at the time: 10:58.

A few minutes later, my phone vibrated.

The WeChat message, sent by Chen Wei, contained only two words: "Now."

There's no prefix, no "Is it convenient?", just two words.

He checked the time: 11:03.

He was familiar with Chen Wei's style of communication: no punctuation, no formalities, and he always did what he said he would do.

I replied with a "good".

About four or five minutes later, footsteps could be heard in the corridor.

The office door was unlocked and ajar.

It's neither too fast nor too slow; the rhythm is very steady.

Then came two knocks on the door, knuckles tapping evenly on the wooden door.

When Chen Wei pushed the door open, he was holding that dark gray folder in his hand.

The buckle is fastened, with the red label facing outwards.

It was the same one I saw last Wednesday.

"Close the door."

Lin Che got up and closed the door.

When the door closed, the sounds in the hallway disappeared instantly, leaving only the hum of the air conditioner.

Chen Wei had already sat down in the chair opposite him, with the folder on his lap and his hands folded over it.

He didn't open it immediately, but glanced at Lin Che's desktop first.

There were no other files on the table, and the computer screen was on the desktop page with three icons in the lower right corner.

His gaze lingered on the screen for less than a second before returning to his own.

"The investigation lasted for more than three months."

Chen Wei looked at Lin Che as he spoke, his pace as usual, neither too fast nor too slow.

"Starting last October, we traced back from the first negative entry."

He paused for a moment.

"Each transaction involved at least two layers of proxy holding, some even three."

It paused again.

"There are some things that are inconvenient to say over the phone, and even more so via email."

Lin Che didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.

The office was silent for a few seconds.

Chen Wei glanced down at the folder and touched the edge of the clasp with his right thumb.

He ran his fingertip along the curve of the metal clasp, as if confirming its position.

Then he unfastened the buckle.

Click.

The folder was opened, and the first page was an A4 sheet of paper.

The diagram above shows the flow of funds. The lines are hand-drawn with a black pen, and the strokes are very fine.

The upper part of the image consists of several boxes connected by arrows, with numbers and dates labeled next to the arrows.

The lower half consists of four red dots arranged in a row.

Each dot is labeled with the amount and time.

The date next to the first dot is May 2022.

The last one is December 2022.

The four dots represent the four sums of money.

There is a light-colored circle of water stain in the upper right corner of the diagram, like it was imprinted on the bottom of a cup.

Chen Wei doesn't usually use a coaster when drinking water.

He turned the folder around so that the diagram was facing Lin Che.

The right index finger is placed on the first red dot, with the fingertip pressing against the date.

"Let's start with this."