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墨書 Inktalez
The sound of raindrops tapping against the window resembled a hurried code. Lin Xiaofan stared at the email notification from the Bureau of Industry and Commerce on his computer screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a long time before finally dropping helplessly.
"Notice regarding the surprise inspection of 'Weiguang Public Welfare' fund transactions..."
The email was worded politely, yet each word felt like a knife. The whistleblower had provided detailed clues, accusing him of money laundering and illegal fundraising through the charity project. The most damning evidence was that the attachment contained transfer records from his earlier self-donations made under the "Xiao Fan Love Fund"—information that should have only been accessible to Zhao Tianming.
His phone lit up with a message from Zhang Hao: "Bro, Zhao Huizhang is offering two million for your secret. He said cash, no serial numbers, untraceable."
Lin Xiaofan scoffed and tossed his phone onto the bed. The rain outside intensified, and a flash of lightning illuminated the children's drawings taped to the wall—one by a little girl who used a fertilizer bag as a backpack, saying "Thank you, Uncle Lin."
"Ding—"
The system notification rang out abruptly. Lin Xiaofan glanced at it absentmindedly, and his blood ran cold—
【Severe Warning!】
【Host detected to be engaging in speculative behavior】
【Punishment procedure countdown initiated: 72 hours】
【Measures: 1. Reclaim all initial funds 2. Make all operational records public】
【Note: Last chance for correction】
His phone slipped from Lin Xiaofan's hand and hit the carpet with a muffled thud. He mechanically bent down to pick it up; the screen was already covered in spiderweb-like cracks, and the countdown numbers cruelly ticked away: 71:59:23.
"How could this be..." he murmured, images of smiling mountain children, Su Yuqing meticulously checking accounts, and even the trembling hand of a homeless man receiving porridge flashed before his eyes. He had genuinely been doing good deeds during this time; how could the system deem him "speculative"?
Unless... unless the system's judgment wasn't based on what he did but rather on what he thought.
This thought struck him like lightning. Lin Xiaofan shuddered as he recalled the fleeting calculation when he accepted Zhao Tianming's check, the vanity he felt when reading media reports, and his greedy reflex to check his account after each donation...
The sound of rain grew more urgent, as if thousands of fingers were probing his conscience. Lin Xiaofan grabbed his coat and rushed out the door, not even bothering to change out of his slippers.
The taxi sped through the rainy night, splashing water everywhere. Lin Xiaofan urged the driver to go faster, his fingers unconsciously drumming on his knee to match the rhythm of the countdown. 71:45:36... 71:45:35...
The lights in the Weiguang Public Welfare office were still on. Through the rain curtain, Lin Xiaofan saw Su Yuqing's silhouette hunched over her desk alone. He rushed up the stairs in three steps at a time and slammed open the glass door.
"Who—" Su Yuqing stood up in surprise but relaxed upon seeing it was Lin Xiaofan. "Are you crazy? It's so late..."
"Look at this." Lin Xiaofan interrupted her directly, slamming his phone down on the table.
The countdown on the screen continued: 71:38:09... 71:38:08...
Su Yuqing frowned in confusion. "What kind of countdown app is this?"
"It's not an app." Lin Xiaofan's voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable. "What if I told you that all my money, all the donations, come from a... a 'system'? Would you believe me?"
The office fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of raindrops hitting the window and the hum of the air conditioning. Su Yuqing's expression froze, her gaze darting between Lin Xiaofan and his phone.
"Have you been drinking?" she asked tentatively.
Lin Xiaofan let out a bitter laugh and opened the system interface, displaying the recent donation and cashback records for her to see. The transaction records were precise to the second, impossible to forge bank statements, along with those strange notification messages...
"I know this sounds like a fairy tale," he said, his nails digging deeply into his palm. "But that's the truth. The system is going to punish me. In 72 hours, all the money will be reclaimed, and all my operation records will be made public—including those unspeakable tests."
Su Yuqing slowly sat down, her fingers gently touching the screen as if confirming this wasn't an illusion. Her eyelashes cast a small shadow in the light, obscuring the emotions in her eyes.
"So... those donations..." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
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