I slept with my sister's classmate, and she turned out to be my boss.

On Saturday morning, Chen Dapeng was organizing materials at his residence.

My older sister, Chen Yang, went back to the provincial capital yesterday. Before leaving, she went through all the materials again and filled her notebook with supplementary comments.

She left the notebook with Chen Dapeng, saying, "Your handwriting is ugly, but as long as you can understand it, it's fine."

Chen Dapeng wanted to argue, but after looking at his own handwriting and then at his sister's, he silently swallowed his words.

My phone vibrated.

He picked it up and saw that it was a text message from an unknown number.

There was no salutation, no signature, only one line:

"I am Zhou Min. Saturday afternoon at three o'clock, at the 'Old Place' teahouse in the county town, I'm coming alone. Don't tell anyone."

Chen Dapeng stared at the text message for a full half minute.

Zhou Min.

The woman who signed the 960 million yuan transfer record was the person in charge of the land expropriation compensation payment and one of Fang Zhiwen's subordinates.

He Ying once said that she was a "breakthrough point".

But he was still somewhat surprised that a breakthrough had come to him on its own initiative.

Chen Dapeng didn't reply. Instead, he took a screenshot of the text message, opened WeChat, and sent it to He Ying.

"Zhou Min asked me to meet her this afternoon. What should I do?"

After sending it, he leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

Why did Zhou Min seek him out?

Is it that he's finally come to his senses and wants to betray us? Or is it a trap set by Fang Zhiwen?

If it was a setup by Fang Zhiwen—he recalled the night he was beaten in Liuhe Town, and his ribs throbbed with pain again.

My phone vibrated.

He Ying replied, "Go. But be careful. I'll have someone nearby."

"She told me not to tell anyone."

"You told me."

Chen Dapeng paused for a moment, then smiled slightly—he had indeed told He Ying.

"The 'anyone' she mentioned doesn't include me," He Ying sent another message. "3 PM, 'Old Place' teahouse. I'll have someone outside. Once you're inside, don't turn off your phone; keep it on."

"it is good."

Chen Dapeng put down his phone, stood up, and walked to the window.

The sun was shining brightly, but his palms were sweaty.

He didn't know what he was about to face—a witness trying to redeem himself, or a carefully laid trap?

But he knew he had to go.

……

At 2:45 p.m., Chen Dapeng arrived at the "Old Place" teahouse.

The teahouse is located in a quiet alley on the east side of the county town. The storefront is small, and the wooden signboard is somewhat faded.

He stood at the doorway and looked around.

There were people at both ends of the alley—a black sedan was parked at the alley entrance, its windows tinted dark, making it impossible to see inside;

At the end of the alley, a middle-aged man in a jacket was squatting by the roadside smoking, as if he was just stopping by for a rest.

Chen Dapeng didn't know if He Ying had arranged any of these people, but he felt a little more at ease.

He pushed the door open and went in.

The teahouse was quiet, with only two or three tables of customers chatting in hushed tones.

A waitress in a cheongsam approached and asked, "How many are in your party, sir?"

"I'm looking for someone."

Chen Dapeng's gaze swept around—in a corner booth, a woman was looking down with a cup of tea in front of her.

She was wearing a dark sweatshirt, with the hood still on, covering half of her face.

Chen Dapeng walked over and sat down opposite her.

Zhou Min raised her head.

Her eyes were a little red and her eyelids were slightly swollen, as if she had been crying or hadn't slept well.

She wasn't wearing makeup, her lips were a little dry, and she looked much more haggard than when I last saw her in Liuhe Town.

She looked at Chen Dapeng, her gaze lingering on the wound at the corner of his mouth.

The stitches have been removed from the wound, but a pink scar remains on the left cheek. It's not very noticeable, but you can see it if you look closely.

"Your injury..."

Zhou Min's voice sounded somewhat hoarse.

"It's nothing," Chen Dapeng said calmly. "You said you needed to talk to me."

Zhou Min lowered her head, her fingers gently stroking the teacup.

Her nails were cut very short, and there were faint ink stains under them—like someone who writes often.

"Chen Dapeng." She looked up, her voice low, "I know about the beating you received."

Chen Dapeng's fingers tightened slightly, but his expression remained unchanged.

"I know who did it."

"Who?"

Zhou Min's lips moved slightly, as if in a final struggle.

Fang Zhiwen.

When she uttered those three words, her voice trembled slightly, but it was very clear.

"Fang Zhiwen had Qian Cheng arrange it. The two men who beat you up were hired by Fang Zhiwen's driver from Liuhe Town. One is named Liu Jun, and the other is Wang Lei. They are both local thugs."

Chen Dapeng stared at her: "How did you know?"

"That night, I was working overtime in the office." Zhou Min's voice was low, as if she was afraid of being overheard. "Qian Cheng received a call from Fang Zhiwen, and I was right next to him. After Qian Cheng hung up, he made another call and said, 'Secretary Fang wants you to do something'—find two people to go to the Liuhe Hotel and teach someone a lesson."

She paused for a moment, then picked up her teacup and took a sip.

"I asked Qian Cheng, 'Who were you teaching a lesson to?' He didn't say. But the next day, I heard about you being beaten in Liuhe Town."

"Are you sure it was Fang Zhiwen who ordered this?"

"I'm sure." Zhou Min looked at him. "Qian Cheng said 'Secretary Fang' on the phone—in Liuhe Town, there's only one person who's called 'Secretary Fang'."

Chen Dapeng remained silent for a few seconds.

"Are you willing to testify?"

Zhou Min fell silent.

Her fingers slowly tightened on the teacup.

"Zhou Min." Chen Dapeng's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear. "Do you know what you're saying? Fang Zhiwen ordered the assault; this is a criminal case. If you're willing to testify, this matter can be investigated. If you're not, I'll pretend I was never here today."

Zhou Min lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Chen Dapeng didn't urge her; he sat opposite her and waited.

"Chen Dapeng".

Zhou Min finally raised her head.

Her eyes reddened, but she didn't let the tears fall.

"That money, those transfer records, those fake contracts... I've handled too much of it. I can't sleep at night. I'm afraid the police will come after me one day."

She took a deep breath, as if encouraging herself.

"I don't ask to be exonerated. I only ask... that I no longer have to lie."

Chen Dapeng looked at her, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside him.

This woman was one of Fang Zhiwen's subordinates; she handled the dirty money and signed the forged documents.

But she is also a person, someone who feels fear, insomnia, and guilt.

"Did you send this anonymous package?"

Chen Dapeng suddenly asked.

Zhou Min shook her head.

"no."

"Do you know who it is?"

Zhou Min glanced at him, her eyes filled with hesitation, struggle, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"I roughly know."

"Who?"

Zhou Min did not answer immediately.

She picked up the now-cold tea, took a sip, and put the cup down.

"People around Fang Zhiwen."

This answer is essentially meaningless.

But Chen Dapeng read another meaning in her expression—she knew who it was, but she didn't dare to say.

Why don't you dare to speak up?

"Because that person... has handled far more than I have." Zhou Min's voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. "That person has the most crucial evidence against Fang Zhiwen, but hasn't dared to bring it out in the past few years."

Chen Dapeng looked at her: "Do you think that person dares to step forward?"

Zhou Min remained silent for a long time.

"I have no idea."

She paused for a moment.

"But if someone takes the lead, maybe that person will follow."

Chen Dapeng kept those words in mind.

"Chen Dapeng," Zhou Min stood up, "Don't tell anyone that I said what I'm saying. At least not now."

"If Fang Zhiwen knew that I said those words, I would not have a good end."

Chen Dapeng looked at her and remained silent for two seconds.

I promise you.

Zhou Min nodded, picked up her bag from the table, and turned to leave.

She took two steps, then stopped and turned around.

"Chen Dapeng".

"Um?"

"Be careful of Qian Cheng. That man is even more cunning than Fang Zhiwen."

After she finished speaking, she quickly walked out of the teahouse.

Chen Dapeng sat in the booth, watching her figure disappear through the door.

He took out his phone and saw that the call was still going on on the screen.

"You heard everything?" he said into the phone.

"I heard you," He Ying's voice came from the other end of the phone. "What she said is very important."

"She is unwilling to testify publicly."

"Just because she's unwilling now doesn't mean she'll be unwilling later. Once the provincial audit team arrives and Fang Zhiwen feels more pressure, she'll consider it."

Chen Dapeng remained silent for a few seconds.

"County Magistrate He."

"Um?"

Zhou Min said that the anonymous sender might be someone close to Fang Zhiwen.

"I know," He Ying said calmly. "Not many people have access to those materials. Zhou Deming from the Finance Office, Zhou Min from the Economic Development Zone, Fang Zhiwen's secretary..."

She didn't finish her sentence, but Chen Dapeng knew who she was thinking of.

Fang Zhiwen's secretary—that person was closer to the core than Zhou Min and knew more.

But he dared not step forward, because the "things" he handled were more serious than Zhou Min's.

"County Chief He, Zhou Min said Qian Cheng is even more cunning than Fang Zhiwen. Should we also keep an eye on this man?"

"I've been keeping an eye on it. Qian Cheng is Fang Zhiwen's agent in the Economic Development Zone. Most of the contracts and acceptance reports in those 960 million yuan transfer records bear his signature. He is Fang Zhiwen's most trusted person, and also his dirtiest person."

"He was never clean from the beginning. Qian Cheng was involved in every 'project' Fang Zhiwen had in Liuhe Town."

Chen Dapeng held his phone and remained silent for a few seconds.

"So what do we do next?"

"Wait," He Ying said calmly. "The provincial audit team will arrive next week. Once they get here, submit the materials. Then—"

She paused for a moment.

"Then let's see how Fang Zhiwen responds."

Chen Dapeng hung up the phone and came out of the teahouse.

The black sedan was gone from the alley, and the middle-aged man who used to squat at the end of the alley smoking was also gone.

The sun shone warmly on him, but his heart felt a little cold.

What Zhou Min said today made him realize two things:

First, Fang Zhiwen was more ruthless than he imagined—instructing people to be beaten is not something a town party secretary should do.

Secondly, within Fang Zhiwen's camp, some are wavering. Zhou Min's initiative to approach him indicates that those around Fang Zhiwen are beginning to feel fear—fear of auditing, fear of being arrested, fear of the police coming knocking on their door one day.

This fear is contagious.

If one person defectes, there will be a second and a third.

Fang Zhiwen's impenetrable defenses are cracking from the inside.