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墨書 Inktalez
The morning sunlight pierced through the gaps in the curtains, and Lin Xiaofan squinted at his phone—5:30 AM. It was the seventh day since he checked into this budget hotel. The springs in the mattress dug into his back, causing discomfort, but at least it was more comfortable than staying in an internet café.
"Ding-dong—"
The notification sound from the banking app rang out sharply in the quiet room. Lin Xiaofan sat up abruptly, rubbing his eyes at the numbers on the screen: a balance of 1,287,652 yuan. This was the amount returned by the system under the guise of a "Crisis Response Package" after his anonymous donation.
"That's way too much..." he murmured to himself, his finger hovering over the screen, hesitating to confirm.
In the past week, the media storm had miraculously calmed down. The focus had shifted to Zhao Tianming's tax issues, and the topic of "finding the anonymous donor" gradually faded. What surprised Lin Xiaofan even more was that the system's return multiplier had quietly increased to 120%, and the withdrawal limit had been relaxed to 15%.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated; it was a text from Su Yuqing: "See you at two this afternoon, same place. We have a project to discuss."
Those brief words made Lin Xiaofan read them four or five times. Ever since public opinion had turned around, Su Yuqing had reached out to him three times—starting with an apology and then moving on to project inquiries. Her softened attitude made him feel somewhat uneasy.
As the sunlight grew stronger, Lin Xiaofan pulled back the curtains and looked down at the bustling breakfast stall below. The lady selling pancakes moved quickly, handing out food with a genuine smile to each customer. He suddenly recalled a little girl in a mountain school cafeteria who used a fertilizer bag as her backpack, her serious expression as she served food.
"Maybe... that's the key?" A thought flashed through his mind.
Lin Xiaofan opened his notebook and quickly jotted down this new discovery: when he did not deliberately seek returns, the system gave him even more. This was true for his anonymous donation and also for his previous trip to the mountains.
"True charity + soft marketing..." He drew a circle on the paper. "Do real good deeds but allow reasonable commercial exposure."
At 1:50 PM, Lin Xiaofan arrived early at the agreed café. He had specifically changed into a new shirt and got a haircut; he didn’t want Su Yuqing to see him looking disheveled anymore.
"You’re early," came a familiar voice from behind him. Su Yuqing wore a light blue shirt today, her hair tied back in a neat ponytail, faint dark circles visible under her eyes.
"Thank you for what you did regarding the mountain situation," Lin Xiaofan blurted out.
Su Yuqing paused for a moment before shaking her head. "I just spoke the truth." She set down her briefcase and pulled out a stack of documents. "Take a look at this—the Left-behind Children Art Education Program."
For the next half hour, Lin Xiaofan listened intently as Su Yuqing explained the project details. The plan aimed to provide art and music courses for children in mountainous areas, but it only had a meager budget of two hundred thousand yuan.
"I’ve calculated it," Su Yuqing said while biting on her pen cap. "If we cut administrative costs and find some volunteers, it might barely cover three schools for half a year..."
"I'll give you two million." Lin Xiaofan suddenly said.
Su Yuqing dropped her pen on the floor. "What?"
"Two million as initial funding." Lin Xiaofan leaned forward. "But I have conditions—complete transparency in accounts, allowed moderate publicity, and no acceptance of any gray transactions."
This aligned perfectly with Su Yuqing's own call for "transparent charity" on social media. She narrowed her eyes as she scrutinized Lin Xiaofan, seemingly assessing whether there was a trap behind this sudden generosity.
"Why so suddenly..."
"Because I discovered a secret," Lin Xiaofan said with a smile. "Even the most self-serving act of kindness is better than the highest form of indifference. But what if we could make 'self-interest' transparent and controllable?"
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow on the table between them, where the edges of the documents shimmered with a faint golden hue. Su Yuqing's fingertips gently tapped on the coffee cup, producing a crisp sound.
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