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墨書 Inktalez
As the ringtone blared like an alarm, Lin Xiaofan was sorting through materials on the mining disaster. On the screen, a yellowed photograph displayed his father's youthful face alongside Zhao Tianming, separated by a blurry figure—likely Old Zhou.
"Lin, something big has happened!" Assistant Xiao Chen's voice crackled through the receiver, mingled with a chaotic background noise. "Have you seen today's trending topics?"
Lin Xiaofan switched to the news page, and the tag "Charity Money Laundering" glaringly occupied the third spot. Clicking on the topic, he found a lengthy article titled "The Business of Charity by a Mysterious Tycoon," featuring a photo of him and Zhao Tianming at an art exhibition.
"According to industry insiders..." The article rambled on for thousands of words, but its core message was succinct: Lin Xiaofan was using charity as a cover for money laundering. Even more damaging, it included the registration information for the "Xiaofan Love Fund" and several large transfer records—exactly what he had done during his early system tests.
"Ding—"
The first cancellation text arrived from a previously negotiated book sponsor. Then came the second, third... In just ten minutes, seven partner companies sent emails terminating their collaborations. The most devastating blow came from the bank: "Dear customer, your account has been temporarily frozen due to unusual transactions..."
"Damn it!" Lin Xiaofan slammed his fist on the table, causing a picture frame to topple over and glass shards to scatter.
He forced himself to calm down and pulled up the article's backend data. IP tracking revealed that the article was first published at "Speedy Internet Cafe" in the northern part of the city—the very place Zhang Hao frequented.
The rain came suddenly. By the time Lin Xiaofan burst into the internet cafe, his hair and shirt were already soaked through. The attendant behind the counter glanced up at him before returning to his phone: "ID."
"I'm looking for someone." Lin Xiaofan scanned the dimly lit hall, where rows of computer screens flickered with eerie blue light amidst swirling smoke.
In a corner, Zhang Hao's signature gold chain was the first thing that revealed his location. But what froze Lin Xiaofan's blood was seeing Zhao Tianming's secretary sitting across from his cousin, sliding a thick envelope across the table.
"Zhang Hao!" Lin Xiaofan's roar drowned out the sounds of gaming in the cafe.
His cousin jerked his head up, the chain swinging around his neck. He quickly stuffed the envelope into his jacket and forced a smile: "Hey, cousin! What a coincidence!"
"Coincidence my ass!" Lin Xiaofan grabbed him by the collar. "Did you leak those dirt stories?"
"Let go!" The secretary shouted sharply. "Otherwise, President Zhao won't guarantee your mother's safety."
That sentence hit like a bucket of ice water. Lin Xiaofan released his grip and took a step back: "What have you done... to my mom?"
"Don't panic." The secretary elegantly adjusted her skirt. "We just sent a few reporters to 'interview' your dear mother." She glanced at her watch meaningfully. "At this hour, they should be arriving at your village."
Lin Xiaofan's phone rang just then. The word "Mother" on the screen made his fingers tremble.
"Mom?!"
On the other end, amidst noisy voices, his mother's tearful voice broke through intermittently: "Xiaofan... there are so many people at the door... saying you scammed them..."
"I'm coming home right now! Don't open the door!"
The secretary chuckled lightly: "Now, can we talk?" She pulled out a contract from her briefcase. "Sign this, and President Zhao guarantees your mother won't be disturbed; those negative news articles will also be... properly handled."
The gold-embossed words "Zhao Charity Foundation" on the cover of the contract stung Lin Xiaofan's eyes. He didn't need to read it to know—it was undoubtedly a contract for his soul—exchanging his system for "innocence."
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