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

Monday, 9:00 AM.

The elevator in the riverside park made a soft sound. The doors slid open to both sides.

Lin Che emerged with the flow of people, carrying a bag of warm soy milk in his hand.

Two fried dough sticks were inside the transparent bag, swaying with each step and releasing a mixed aroma of oil and soybeans.

This down-to-earth, everyday atmosphere of the stock market clashes sharply with the elite ambiance of those around them, who wear orange name tags and constantly talk about "closed-loop systems."

Walk to section F.

The previously noisy keyboard sounds disappeared instantly.

Dozens of eyes were fixed on the screen, their peripheral vision locked on the same direction.

Stop.

Two men were standing next to the workstation.

He wore a dark suit and had a blank expression. The most jarring thing was the black name tag hanging around his neck.

In a sea of ​​orange, black represents a somber atmosphere. The four silver characters for "Integrity and Compliance" gleam coldly under the fluorescent lights.

coming.

It was even more high-profile than expected.

Lin Che didn't stop and walked straight ahead.

If you show hesitation or panic at this moment, it's like writing "I am guilty" on your face.

The other party chose to arrest people at their workstations because they wanted to cause them "social death."

As long as I'm not embarrassed, it's others who are embarrassed.

I walked up to my workstation and reached out to touch the Cherry keyboard on the table.

A hand reached across and blocked the Enter key by an inch.

"Lin Che?"

The man on the left spoke, his voice dry.

"it's me."

Stop and casually hang the breakfast bag on the shelf hook.

The soft "rustling" sound of the plastic bags rubbing together could be clearly heard in the deathly silent office.

"Haven't had breakfast yet?"

Lin Che spoke casually, as if greeting a neighbor, "The fried dough sticks at the cafeteria downstairs are pretty good today."

The colleagues around him, who had been listening intently, were taken aback.

The two officers from the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) exchanged glances, a look of surprise flashing in their eyes.

I've seen people weeping and wailing, I've seen people slamming their fists on the table and cursing, but I've never seen anyone care about whether the fried dough sticks are crispy or not at this moment.

"Integrity and Compliance Department, Li Mo."

The man in the lead flashed his badge, ignoring the breakfast conversation, and said, "There are issues with the promotional data for the 'Laiwang' project, and we need your assistance in the investigation. Come with us."

"Can."

Lin Che nodded. "The conference room or outside?"

"Meeting Room 3."

The famous "Glass House".

He didn't even glance at the horrified, inquisitive, or gloating looks around him.

He turned and walked towards the conference room.

His steps were steady. The rhythm of his heels striking the ground was the same as usual.

.......

Meeting room number 3 is transparent on all four sides.

There's a frosted film in the middle that only covers the lower half of the body when sitting.

People would occasionally pretend to pass by in the corridor, their eyes peering in like hooks.

The humiliation of being watched is itself a form of interrogation.

"Old Ghost" Li Mo sat opposite.

He pulled out a stack of reports and slammed them heavily onto the table.

The A4 paper, with its sharp edges and static electricity from being freshly printed, lay scattered about.

The top is covered with countless red circles.

"Smack."

A black Sony voice recorder was placed on the table.

The red light on the voice recorder lit up, like a dark red single eye, flashing silently.

"Explain."

Li Mo pointed to the almost vertical growth curve. "Why is the user activity level even more perfect than WeChat's? Are these data hosted on Mars, or are they using robots that never sleep?"

Lin Che didn't look at the stack of reports.

Leaning back in his chair and adjusting to a comfortable position, he looked past Li Mo's shoulder and at the blurry frosted glass.

My heart rate actually slowed down.

Old Ghost was asking about "data curves".

It's not about "fund flow", not about "supplier connections", and not about "kickbacks".

Wang Pangzi handled things very well.

As long as money is not an issue, business problems are simply a matter of ability, or—a matter of mindset.

Safe.

"Teacher Li."

Lin Che withdrew his gaze and looked at Li Mo, his eyes showing no fear, but rather a kind of pity for an outsider. "Have you ever worked with products?"

Li Mo frowned: "Answer the question directly!"

"If you've ever worked on a product, you should know that mediocre product managers look at daily active users, while top-notch product managers look at product models."

Lin Che pointed to the stack of reports, "You think this curve is fake because you haven't seen this kind of growth model before."

"You call this a model?" Li Mo sneered. "The activity level at 3 AM is the same as at noon, and you call that a model?"

That's a "user behavior incentive model".

Lin Che stood up.

This unexpected move caused Li Mo to instinctively lean back slightly.

Lin Che walked to the whiteboard on one side of the conference room and picked up a black ballpoint pen.

Remove the pen cap.

A pungent smell of oil-based markers filled the air; it smelled of alcohol and chemical solvents.

He drew a huge inverted triangle on the whiteboard.

"In the eyes of traditional auditors, users are just heads, but in my eyes, users are a pool of traffic."

The pen tip rubbed against the whiteboard, making a sharp "squeak" sound.

"AARRR".

Lin Che wrote down these five letters, which are the "pirate indicator" growth model that will become commonplace in 2020. In 2013, this was a game-changer.

"Acquisition, Activation, Retention..."

As he wrote, he used black lines to construct a detailed funnel model diagram.

Every arrow points to that perfect growth curve.

"We achieved all-day user reach through scripts and activated dormant users using the push mechanism at night... The unusual activity you see is actually the result of our 'high-frequency attack on low-frequency' tactic."

Lin Che's voice wasn't loud, but his logic was perfectly coherent.

He wove an impenetrable web using a whole host of jargon that even compliance personnel today would never have heard of—"private domain traffic," "viral growth," "granularity," and "user lifecycle."

Li Mo's carefully prepared interrogation rhythm was completely disrupted.

He stared at the complex funnel diagram on the whiteboard, his furrowed brows slowly turning into a deep frown.

The urge to even take out a notebook and jot it down flashed through his mind.

Is this kid... giving me a lesson?

Outside the glass room.

Colleagues passing by were horrified to discover that the style of the interior had changed.

I originally thought I would see Lin Che crying his heart out, or being interrogated until he was covered in sweat.

But now, the suspect, Lin Che, is standing in front of the whiteboard, delivering a passionate speech and pointing out the flaws in the situation.

The two fierce-looking "Imperial Guards" frowned like elementary school students who couldn't understand advanced mathematics, staring at the whiteboard in confusion.

"Click".

I slammed the pen cap shut.

The crisp sound brought this one-sided intellectual crushing to a close.

He tossed the pen back into its slot. He braced himself on the table with both hands, leaning over to stare directly into Li Mo's dazed eyes.

"This is my growth logic. If you think that perfect data is a sin, then it only means—"

Lin Che paused, his tone carrying just the right amount of arrogance.

"The other product managers at Alibaba are too incompetent."