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墨書 Inktalez
The sunlight outside was bright, streaming into the apartment that would soon no longer belong to him. Lin Xiaofan mechanically packed his belongings, stuffing a few personal items into his suitcase: some clothes, a photo of his mother, and a pebble he had brought back from the mountains—a "gift" that the little girl with the fertilizer bag had insisted he take.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated with a notification from the system:
【Crisis Level: Red】
【Immediate remedial action recommended】
【Current goodwill value: 31/100】
Lin Xiaofan let out a bitter laugh, tossing the phone aside as he continued packing. At this point, what was there left to salvage?
As he rummaged through the desk drawer, a business card slipped out—it was from Su Yuqing. Instinctively, Lin Xiaofan searched for her social media account to see how pleased this "whistleblower" was feeling now.
Her latest post, published two hours ago, was a lengthy article:
"Personal views on the recent charity controversy... Unpure motives behind good deeds are still better than exquisite indifference. We pursue purity, but we cannot deny all attempts because they are imperfect..."
Lin Xiaofan's finger paused on the screen. The article didn’t mention his name, but the comments section was ablaze with outrage, many users tagging him and calling him a "hypocrite." Su Yuqing’s only reply was, "I oppose any form of online violence."
The sound of a moving company’s horn outside reminded him that it was time to go. Lin Xiaofan took one last look around the apartment he had lived in for three years and dragged his suitcase out.
The sunlight on the street was blinding, and pedestrians hurried past. Standing at the intersection, Lin Xiaofan suddenly didn’t know where to go. His phone buzzed again—it was Principal Li’s number. After hesitating for a moment, he answered.
"Mr. Lin!" The old principal's voice sounded hoarser than usual. "The investigation team from the education bureau just left. They said... they said our school’s funding will be suspended next month..."
In the background, he could hear children reciting their morning lessons in clear, youthful voices: "At birth, human nature is good." Lin Xiaofan swallowed hard as a thought flashed through his mind.
"Principal Li," he interrupted the old man’s lament, "how much does the school’s meal program cost for a year?"
"Uh?" The principal paused in surprise. "About... around sixty thousand..."
"Give me an account number," Lin Xiaofan said. "Don’t tell anyone who it’s from."
Ten minutes later, he stood in front of an ATM machine, transferring his last available funds—exactly sixty thousand—into the public account of Mountainous Primary School. He wrote in the transfer note: "A sinner's compensation."
There were no system notifications or cashback alerts. Lin Xiaofan let out a long breath and felt an unusual sense of relief wash over him. He dragged his suitcase toward the subway station, planning to try his luck at the long-distance bus station—perhaps some small town in the south needed cheap labor.
Three days later, while curled up in a booth at an internet café eating instant noodles, his phone suddenly vibrated wildly. Dozens of unread messages and missed calls flooded in from unfamiliar numbers. Confused, he opened social media and found that his name was trending again—FindingTheAnonymousDonor.
Clicking on the topic, the first post was a video that had been shared hundreds of thousands of times: Principal Li stood in a city square with five mountain children, holding up a stack of handwritten letters and drawings. The old man spoke to the camera: "A kind-hearted person has anonymously donated to our school; the children want to say thank you in person..."
The scene shifted to show the children displaying their artwork: crooked suns, little houses, and one particularly eye-catching drawing—a tall stick figure holding hands with a small stick figure beside it with "Thank you Uncle Lin" written next to it.
"We’ve asked everyone who has ever funded our school," Principal Li continued, "and we’re just missing Mr. Lin Xiaofan..."
The comments section had taken a complete turn; those who had previously criticized the most fiercely were now posting about "rational discussions on charity regulation." The pinned comment was from Su Yuqing, which read: "Sometimes, in our haste to judge, we miss the opportunity to see genuine intentions."
Lin Xiaofan felt a sudden pang in his nose. He closed the webpage and noticed that the system had updated his status without him realizing it:
[Goodwill Value has risen to 89/100]
[Return Multiplier restored to 100 times]
[Special Reward: Crisis Response Package]
Before he could examine it further, the door to the private room was suddenly pushed open. Zhang Hao rushed in, panting, his previous arrogance gone: "Cousin! Big trouble! Zhao Tianming has been taken away by the tax bureau! He asked me to tell you that those black materials weren't released by him; it was Director Wang..."
Lin Xiaofan slowly stood up, his unshaven face making him look both weary and dangerous. "Zhang Hao, do you know what I want to do most right now?"
Zhang Hao swallowed hard and instinctively took a step back. "C-Cousin..."
"I want to treat you to a meal." Lin Xiaofan suddenly smiled, "And then we can have a good talk about that 'fifty-fifty split' matter."
Outside the window, the sunset was just right. The city's neon lights flickered on one by one, like a brand new road suddenly unfolding before them.
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