After my divorce at thirty, I developed an intelligence network.

Old Ma hurriedly said, "I was just about to report this to you."

She came again last week, still wanting to get two rural primary school supporting projects through us. She said we could use a single-source procurement process, avoiding public bidding.

Zhou Guopeng leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed: "She's got quite an appetite. Single source? What's the reason?"

"They said it was something like... an emergency repair, anyway, the report is all prepared, all that's left is for us to approve it before we submit it."

As Lao Ma spoke, he observed Zhou Guopeng's expression.

Zhou Guopeng laughed, "She used to sell building materials, and now she thinks she can handle emergency repairs just by doing minor renovations?"

Old Ma laughed along, "Yes, yes, but she said... all the formalities can be completed, and the sincerity shown is also there."

Zhou Guopeng opened his eyes and looked out the window. The car was driving past a construction site, with tower cranes standing tall.

"Whether sincerity is genuine or not depends on the extent of that sincerity," he said slowly.

"The primary school facilities may not seem large, but they're stable and payments are made on time. If she really wants to take it on..."

Before he finished speaking, Old Ma already understood:

"I understand. I'll give her a heads-up later and see how sincere she is. But Zhou Ke, I heard... her ex-brother-in-law, that Gong Yuelong from earlier, seems to be involved in some activities lately. Could it be that they...?"

Zhou Guopeng waved his hand:

"They're already divorced, so they should go their separate ways. Yu Lili is a clever person, but she also knows the rules."

She knows what she can do and what she shouldn't mess with. He paused, as if remembering something.

"By the way, is Gong Yuelong's ex-wife... also in this line of work?"

Old Ma thought for a moment:

"It seems so. I heard that after the divorce, she opened a small studio, taking on design and supervision jobs. She's a hands-off manager; she just takes on the work."

Zhou Guopeng nodded and said nothing more.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Lao Ma pondered how to bring this up with Yu Lili—he wanted to raise the price without scaring away this relatively sensible money tree.

While Zhou Guopeng closed his eyes to rest, something else was on his mind:

Gong Yuelong has risen to prominence, Yu Lili wants to climb the ladder, and his ex-wife is also struggling in the industry...

This family, after getting divorced, are all stuck in the same quagmire.

interesting.

……

……

When Gong Yuelong stepped into the district service hall, his palms were a little damp.

It's not fear, it's that kind of tension at the last minute—the materials have been checked seven or eight times, all the necessary favors have been made, all the necessary arrangements have been made, but in the end, we still have to see the expression on the face of the person behind the table.

A young clerk with a buzz cut sat behind the desk, not even lifting his eyelids: "What do you need me to do?"

"Labor service qualifications, final verification."

Gong Yuelong handed in the file bag, his voice steady, but he was on edge.

The clerk slowly flipped through the pages, then stopped, suddenly asking, "This person's resume... was previously with another company."

Gong Yuelong's heart tightened—it's here.

He had anticipated that he might get stuck at this hurdle, but when he actually encountered it, he still got angry.

He suppressed his anger, his expression calm: "The person you're talking about just left the company; their social security records are verifiable."

"I need to verify." The clerk picked up the phone, asked for a while, hung up, and shook his head. "They said there's no such person over there."

Gong Yuelong looked at the barely concealed perfunctory expression on his face and suddenly understood: it's not that he can't find out, it's that he doesn't want to let you find out.

He took a deep breath and forcefully suppressed the rising anger in his stomach.

Arguing is useless; we need to find a different approach.

"Please call again," he said, lowering his voice slightly, "and ask for General Manager Liu. Just say—" He paused, "that Gong Yuelong referred him."

The clerk looked up and stared at him intently for two seconds, as if weighing the significance of the name.

The call was reconnected, and the tone was more polite.

After a few words, he hung up and ticked a box.

We passed the first hurdle.

Gong Yuelong relaxed a little, but not completely—he knew this was just the beginning.

Sure enough, the clerk pointed to the premises certificate: "Your lease agreement says 80 square meters, but the property certificate shows it as a large open-plan room without partitions. According to regulations, it should be an independent office area."

Gong Yuelong was prepared and pulled out a supplementary agreement that he had just signed yesterday—the partition must be completed within three days, with design drawings attached, and a deposit to be paid separately.

He moved steadily, but inwardly cursed: "They really know how to nitpick."

The clerk opened his mouth, but then fell silent.

He flipped through the documents page by page. Whenever he reached a point where he might get stuck, Gong Yuelong could always pull out the corresponding documentation half a second in advance—a letter of commitment, supplementary explanations, and proof of deposit.

Like playing cards, whatever the opponent plays, he always has the next card in his hand.

He unconsciously brought the rhythm back.

The clerk's nitpicking gradually subsided, and she would occasionally glance at him with a different look in her eyes: This person is not easy to fool.

The last item is employee social security.

The clerk adjusted his glasses and said seriously, "Of the five people, only two have social security records for the most recent three months. What about the other three?"

The most difficult hurdle.

Gong Yuelong knew that most of the team members had their social security in their hometowns and couldn't transfer it in a short time.

His palms were a little damp.

He took half a step forward, lowering his voice even further.

"Li Ke, we are coordinating the transfer of this part. General Manager Jiang Yan is also aware of the situation and said that we can go through a commitment system—we will provide a written guarantee that we will make up the difference within three months and the deposit will still be paid."

He didn't say much about Jiang Yan, just mentioned her name, his tone as casual as if he were mentioning an acquaintance.

But the weight of those words was understood by everyone, both inside and outside the table.

The clerk's fingers hovered over the documents.

He looked up and examined Gong Yuelong for the third time—his clothes were ordinary, but clean.

His expression was calm, but there was a sense of unwavering confidence in his eyes.

Most importantly, he mentioned Jiang Yan so naturally, it didn't seem like he was bluffing.

There was a few seconds of silence.

Then, the clerk nodded:

"A commitment system is acceptable. However, the deposit cannot be less than required, and a check will be conducted after three months. If the deposit is not fully paid..."

"Understood." Gong Yuelong replied readily, a weight lifted from his heart.

The clerk picked up the red stamp.

It slammed down with a "bang".

The sound was faint, but Gong Yuelong heard it as if his own heartbeat had slowed down—it was done.

"Thank you, Li Ke."

Gong Yuelong took it and turned to walk out.

As he stepped out of the hall, he gave a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if he had been holding his breath for a long time and was finally letting it out softly.

The sun felt hot on my face, but it was comfortable.

He knew that the seemingly uneventful half hour had actually been a covert contest—his opponent was probing his weaknesses, while he was revealing his preparations.

While his opponent was playing by the rules, he casually revealed his trump card while countering their moves.

That card, named Jiang Yan, wasn't meant to pressure anyone, but to draw a line: I follow the rules, but I also have my reasons. You can block me, but don't cross the line.

The other party received the cable.

So the stamp was applied.

He glanced at the file folder on the book, which had become much lighter, and suddenly chuckled—a low laugh that only he could hear.

The labor service qualification was obtained just like that.