Actor: Thank you.

"An unsigned letter?" Zhang Yuan looked at his assistant.

Zhao Dandan nodded and placed a letter on his desk.

Zhang Yuan glanced at it; it was an ordinary light yellow kraft paper envelope.

He picked it up; the small square in the upper left corner where the postal code was written was clean.

The space for the stamp in the upper right corner was also empty.

He touched it with his finger; it was clean and smooth. There was no residue.

This means that the stamp wasn't lost, but rather it was never actually affixed.

People of Zhang Yuan's and Cheng Hao's age are better off; they are quite familiar with letters.

Because in their childhood, especially in the days before telephones, letters were a common means of long-distance communication.

Those born after 00 have never heard of this. In the early years, it cost several thousand yuan to install broadband. It was several thousand yuan in the 00s.

Even the initial telephone installation cost several thousand yuan, back in the 90s!
And it's not something you can just get whenever you want; you have to be in a big city like Shanghai or Beijing, and you have to wait in line. When the driver comes, you have to be served good cigarettes and good tea.

Now mobile phones can be transferred between different networks. How did the major operators exploit people back then?

They even considered forming a joint effort to develop a unique communication network in order to continue exploiting the public, but the plan failed to generate much success.

Some people miss the era of mail delivery.

They say things like, "In the past, carriages and horses traveled slowly, letters took a long time to arrive, and a lifetime was only enough to love one person."

Zhang Yuan felt no nostalgia whatsoever; things were more convenient now.

Moreover, those who claim to love only one person in their lifetime are mostly promiscuous.

He felt that most people who reminisce about the good old days are actually reminiscing about themselves, not the era itself.

I miss the young, energetic version of myself, not the tired, aging, and dying version of myself in my later years.

“No stamps,” Zhang Yuan murmured.

"What, you want to collect stamps?" The older sister glanced at him after hearing this.

Cheng Hao felt that he was very different.

Because most people, once they become wealthy, will engage in collecting, whether it be antiques and calligraphy, bottles and jars, or high-priced jewelry.

He doesn't love anything.

They collected a bunch of souvenirs from the filming, such as "fake" gemstone headdresses, "fake" gold armor, and "fake" swords.

A few days ago, I also shipped back a stainless steel piano case.

Should we collect something more elegant?

Stamps are at least something.

Even Cheng Hao had heard of things like monkey stamps.

But Zhang Yuan shook his head.

"No, this thing is too troublesome and not suitable for me."

In his view, stamps are like the Huanglong jade and old cameras that have been heavily speculated on in the past two years; they are mainly for speculation, and their actual collectible value is far less than that.

The simplest reason why the US dollar is valuable is...

Because it is not only pegged to oil, but is also a universally used currency in global circulation.

That's why they can keep printing money to exchange for goods from all over the world and exploit the surplus value of workers worldwide.

The same goes for stamps. Before the widespread use of telephones and the internet, their circulation was unparalleled, which brought them a very strong mass appeal.

The Dutch tulip mania and the domestic orchid mania, this game of musical chairs, must "mobilize the masses" and involve ordinary people in order to continue playing.

If no one uses US dollars, they become worthless.

If no one uses stamps anymore, even if they're out of print or have errors, and only a handful of people in the world collect them, without any new blood entering the market to "take over," who will you sell them to?

Unlike antiques and calligraphy, or rare works by artists, this thing is essentially an industrial printing product, only imbued with the artistry of the designer.

Zhang Yuan felt that collecting this stuff was less worthwhile than buying gold to keep at home; at least a large gold nugget could be used as a paperweight.

The calligraphy he wrote all exuded an air of "nobility".

"Let's open it and take a look." Cheng Hao reached out to take it.

At this moment, Zhang Yuan raised his wrist and stopped her arm.

"Let me think about it." He didn't move, but carefully looked at the letter.

I check my mailbox regularly, sometimes every three days at most.

Back then, things weren't as developed as they are now. Bills for water, electricity, gas, and mobile phone were sent to homes by mail.

Unlike later on, when everything could be done with just Alipay.

Not only these, but also banquets, invitations from chambers of commerce, friends' weddings, and children's 100-day celebrations. These days, people also send letters and letters, and those who are particular will even write them by hand.

Because so many people use the mailbox, it is often filled with all sorts of small advertisements that you can't use yourself.

Delay, enlargement, offering large sums of money for a child, lonely dating... Zhang Yuan hadn't seen any of these; he just threw them away.

There were also unlucky kids who, during the Lunar New Year, would take the fuse off a firecracker, light it, and throw it into the mailbox to blow it up for fun.

These don't matter.

Kids are just kids; they'll be more careful in their next life.

Because he's a celebrity, a famous person, these days there are still fans who write you letters.

He deliberately kept the address of an ordinary apartment building in a residential area that he never lived in, which he bought years ago, to collect for his fans to use as a way to build trust.

I learned this trick from a senior figure, namely Mr. Zheng Yuanjie.

Because he received so many letters from fans, the guy bought seven apartments in Beijing to collect them all...

Respecting others, especially fans, has its benefits.

If they were like some idols, throwing away fan mail and selling fan gifts on Xianyu (a second-hand marketplace), they wouldn't have bought so many houses.

The appreciation in value of the houses Zheng Yuanjie bought in the 90s has exceeded the royalties he has earned as a top-earning writer for many years.

Zhang Yuan received quite a few letters and gifts, which had already filled two three-bedroom, two-living-room apartments.

However, this has also created some problems.

Not everyone who sends you a letter is a fan!

For every person who likes you, there is someone who hates you!
It could be because of the role, the words spoken, or even for no reason at all; they just don't like you.

I got yelled at by my boss today, and when I turned around I saw your poster, so I took out my anger on you. I'll hate you for the rest of my life.

Or someone I really dislike likes you. Because I dislike him, I assume the person he likes must be a bad person too.

This phenomenon is common among fans and fan groups, and it has extended beyond celebrity groups to fields such as fashion and technology brands.

Huawei, Xiaomi, and Apple all have their share of mindless haters and mindless fans.

Therefore, when he reviewed the letters, he saw a lot of "vicious" and "horrifying" content.

Swearing is the least of your worries; there are even curses directed at you.

There were even "blood letters," and Zhang Yuan didn't know whether they were from animal blood or human blood.

There is another extreme, which is the crazy fan who sends you things full of their love, but it's too crazy.

The envelopes contained nude photos, even those with hair intact; some contained only a few curly hairs... or the letter paper had dried liquid stains.

Therefore, he feared that this letter was something similar.

She has a strong ability to handle things, but Cheng Kan would probably be unhappy if she saw it.

Even if it's not like that, if they give you a message like "If you don't forward this to someone else within ten days, your whole family will die," it'll annoy you for years to come.

He also recalled the anthrax letters that appeared in Europe and America a few years ago, which killed many people.

An anonymous letter, who knows what's inside?

"Dandan, go get me a flashlight."

He held up the envelope and shone a flashlight on it.

The envelope contained only a single sheet of paper, with nothing solid, liquid, or powdery.

And you can roughly see words on the paper.

"You're being too cautious," Cheng Hao said with a smile.

There's nothing I can do; there are always treacherous subjects trying to harm me.

"What if there's something dirty inside?" Zhang Yuan replied.

"If you want to say that..."

Zhang Yuan handed the letter to his good sister, who shook her head.

The two then looked at their assistant.

Zhao Dandan pointed to herself, "You come to me for this kind of thing?"

"This arduous task is now entrusted to you."

"It will be reflected in the year-end bonus."

The assistant was taken aback. He picked it up and tore it open, pulled out the papers inside, glanced at them from top to bottom, and looked troubled.

"What, can't you read?" Zhang Yuan joked.

"can't read."

Zhang Yuan reluctantly accepted it, and Cheng Hao also leaned in to look at it together.

At first, neither of them understood.

This letter was not signed according to regulations, lacked a clear structure, and even had a somewhat disjointed content.

It was just lines of text followed by numbers.

Moreover, it wasn't handwritten; it was printed out, so the handwriting style can't be analyzed.

It's like a coded telegram.

Zhang Yuan tore it open... He looked at it for a while and confirmed that it wasn't a curse letter.

People who write curse letters are very straightforward.

"That's not right." He frowned and looked at it carefully again.

He then suddenly stood up, took the paper, and walked around the room, looking at it repeatedly.

"What's wrong?" Cheng Hao noticed the change in his expression and was completely confused. Zhang Yuan didn't answer him, but instead called out into the courtyard.

"Brother Long, come here!"

After calling the bodyguards over, he immediately gave them instructions.

"Check the surveillance footage outside the gate in the past few days, especially the footage from midnight to 6 a.m. before sunrise."

"Find out who threw this letter away."

Brother Long was as efficient and decisive as ever, turning around and getting to work.

He returned after about fifteen minutes.

"Two days ago, at 3:18 a.m., a person of medium build, wearing a black down jacket, a cotton hat, a mask, sunglasses, and work gloves, furtively slipped something into the mailbox," Brother Long replied succinctly.

"As expected." Zhang Yuan rubbed his chin with his palm.

now it's right.

"What exactly happened?" Cheng Hao already sensed something was wrong, and the worry between her brows was almost turning into tears that fell from her cheeks.

"This letter is neither a fan letter nor a curse letter." Zhang Yuan picked up the letter and fanned it.

"It was a letter of denunciation!"

"You snitched!" the good older sister asked, hands on her hips, puzzled.

"Dandan, you and Brother Long go and rest first, and close the door behind you," Zhang Yuan instructed.

As the door closed, only he and Cheng Hao remained in the room.

He patted the chair, gesturing for the other person to sit down and not to rush.

Let me explain.

"I didn't understand it at first either."

"This is because the words in the letter are all homophones, and the numbers have no units."

“Look at the first line, it says ‘valve width 700’.”

"Actually, it should mean a fine of 700 million."

"The next line, 'Sticky Letter 500'."

"It means an annual salary of 500 million."

"The 'braised pork tendon 300' here."

"The prize money is 300 million."

"Below that are dividends, investments, shares, real estate, vehicles, equipment, team..."

"They all use similar techniques, pretty low-level puns."

"The person who made this doesn't want to expose themselves, but is also afraid that it's too difficult for me to understand, while at the same time believing that I have the intelligence to figure it out."

Zhang Yuan chuckled and shook his head: "I have very complicated feelings towards you."

After listening, Cheng Hao picked up the letter again and looked at it carefully.

Ah...yeah, that seems to be the idea.

I stared at him wide-eyed. It had to be you; your mind works so fast.

"I didn't understand it at all."

"That's normal. This is a letter for me. I didn't expect you to understand it."

"But even if you understand all this, what does it mean?" The older sister only saw the surface: "Are you looking for a job?"

"Name your terms?"

"Of course not." Zhang Yuan clicked his tongue.

"Who can't meet the boss directly when applying for a job? Why would a company need a secret code when it's not a spy organization?"

"And even if we're going to test their cryptography, this is just too inadequate."

"So, someone is sending me a message."

"I just asked Brother Long to check the surveillance footage to confirm this."

"The other party secretly confirmed this."

"Then what exactly is this information?" Cheng Hao still didn't understand.

"No rush, think about it first, why would they be sneaking around?"

"I don't want you to know his identity."

“That’s right.” Zhang Yuan snapped his fingers.

"He didn't want me to know his identity, but he knew where I lived!"

“This small courtyard house…” Zhang Yuan pointed to the ceiling: “is where I usually live, and many friends have come here.”

"It's been kept secret from outsiders and hasn't been harassed by fans or the public so far, but it's not exactly a big secret within the industry."

He rarely lived in a large courtyard house, finding it too spacious. When he got hungry at night, it would take him about ten minutes to walk to the kitchen.

"I only go to the courtyard when I'm hosting a large number of guests."

"The other party delivered the letter here precisely. There are only two possibilities: either it's an old friend who doesn't know I own another large courtyard house."

"Or a close friend who knows my daily routine."

"The envelope was not named, and the contents of the letter were not handwritten but printed."

"These are all habits to prevent people from recognizing one's handwriting."

"Concealing one's identity and delivering messages in the middle of the night is easy enough."

"They can conceal their handwriting. Think about it, in movies, people who do this are usually kidnappers or extortionists."

"If you do this, it's highly likely because you know the victim."

"Therefore, we can infer that either this person learned my home address from someone in the industry, or he personally visited my home."

"The poor password revealed that the other party was eager for me to know the information."

"That's why I said it was a letter of denunciation."

“The other party is very cautious, but the content of this letter itself will help me to pinpoint the general direction.” Zhang Yuan held up the letter again.

"If I'm not mistaken, this should be a letter describing someone's compensation."

"Think about it, among the people we know, who is worth millions in salary and bonuses all the time?"

Cheng Hao's mind was in a mess, and she couldn't quite keep up with his pace.

However, the fact that someone could be admitted to four prestigious schools—the Central Academy of Drama, Beijing Film Academy, PLA Academy of Arts, and Beijing Broadcasting Institute—and still have a strong academic foundation with several hundred points above average in the general education exams suggests they possess intelligence.

This high salary, if it were offered to a handful of top artists in the entertainment industry, would only be attainable by a handful of them.

She shouldn't even think about it herself.

Combined with what Zhang Yuan just said, and what he has been busy with lately.

These past few days I've seen him looking very worried, spending his time writing and drawing, and making phone calls to communicate.

The combination of these two elements gives rise to a bold idea.

"This is... Zhang Yimou's offer?"

Zhang Yuan suddenly grabbed her hands and shook them vigorously.

"Congratulations, you got it!"

Cheng Hao's body swayed as he gripped her, and after stopping, she opened her mouth again and spoke hesitantly.

"Is this the price Hua Yi quoted to Zhang Yimou?"

Zhang Yuan shook hands firmly again, swaying them up and down.

"Congratulations! You've even learned how to answer first!"

Cheng Hao was almost shaken to death by him, and she steadied herself by holding onto the table for a while.

"Who?"

"Who sent you this letter?"

"Could it be... that Hua Yi person you met a few days ago?" Cheng Hao asked in a low voice.

"No." Zhang Yuan didn't even tell her that he had gone to see Commander Zong.

He only said that he had contacted an insider.

His principle remains the same: simple, he does it himself.

The fewer steps involved in the process, the fewer people who know about it, and the less likely it is to go wrong.

He denied it so firmly because he knew that if it was Zong Shuai who did it, he might have done it secretly to protect himself.

But he will definitely find a way to let himself know that it was him who did it.

If it were him, he wouldn't be guarding against himself, but rather against Hua Yi.

On the contrary, he would only give these things after he had to take credit for himself and negotiate terms.

He's planning a "rebellion," a job-hopping scheme; he's not going to give away benefits for nothing.

After getting to know him, I understand his personality.

In the pursuit of wealth, it's always a cash-on-delivery transaction; there's no such thing as receiving the goods first.

If I don't cut off the tags and only offer a refund, you'd be crazy.

Since no one is negotiating terms or even coming to our door, we can basically rule out this person as a possibility.

"Who exactly is it?" Cheng Hao felt a tightness in her chest, and her heart was pounding.

I feel uncomfortable, as if someone is plotting against me from the shadows.

"Don't panic," Zhang Yuan reassured him.

"The people who should be afraid are never us."

"As for who did it, it doesn't matter."

"Now we can be sure of one thing, and that is..."

"There's a mole inside, trying to get Huayi to stop the deal!" (End of Chapter)