After breaking up with my boyfriend, I made a fortune and rose rapidly in my career.

Fang Qinian flew to Beijing overnight.

Chen Ping looked at Lin Shaofeng's message, hovered his thumb over the screen for two seconds, then exited the chat without replying.

What could Fang Qinian do at the Chinese Academy of Engineering? Nothing more than to call for reinforcements. He could get a few senior academicians to co-sign an internal report on "major security risks in the Chipfire architecture" and submit it to the Ministry of Science and Technology or a higher level.

But Xu Shouzhen's report will be faster.

Chen Ping placed his phone face down on the table and rubbed his temples. He had been working non-stop for almost a week; the back of his head was throbbing, and his right eyelid kept twitching.

The landline on the table rang.

It's a private number. Su Qingwan.

Chen Ping answered the phone, and a sentence came directly from the receiver.

"Chen Pingfang, Zhou Lin's class reunion is tonight. You promised me, don't tell me you have to work overtime again."

Chen Ping glanced at the calendar.

Friday.

He had indeed agreed, last month. It was a gathering organized by Zhou Lin, Su Qingwan's college classmate, at a Hunan restaurant in the old town of Nanzhou, and they had booked a private room. Su Qingwan had reminded him three times.

"What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock. Pick me up at six-thirty, wearing that gray casual suit, not your meeting clothes."

Chen Ping locked the audit report in the drawer and stood up to get his coat.

Neither Sun Yaozong's nor Fang Qinian's affairs can be touched tonight.

Those who need companionship should be accompanied.

~

At 6:40, Chen Ping's car was parked downstairs at Su Qingwan's workplace.

Su Qingwan opened the passenger door and got in, glancing at Chen Pingfang.

"Did you change your clothes?"

"It's been changed."

"Your collar is crooked."

Su Qingwan reached out and straightened Chen Pingfang's collar, her fingertips pausing near his collarbone.

"You've lost weight."

Chen Ping started the car but didn't respond to that question.

Su Qingwan didn't say anything more, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes for a while. A few minutes of silence followed between them as streetlights flashed past the car window, casting alternating shadows.

"Don't talk about work tonight." Su Qingwan opened her eyes.

"Um."

"Really, don't talk about it. Zhou Lin's husband said last time that you're too serious, like you're having dinner with someone from the Discipline Inspection Commission."

Chen Ping's lips twitched, but he didn't say anything.

7:05, private room at a Hunan restaurant.

As soon as you enter, you are greeted by a lively atmosphere.

The private room wasn't big, and it held about ten people, all of whom were Su Qingwan's classmates from university. Zhou Lin had the loudest voice and waved from afar.

"Qingwan! Over here! Director Chen is here too, please have a seat!"

Chen Ping followed Su Qingwan to sit down in a seat further inside, nodding to each person in the private room. He recognized most of the people in the room and remembered about 70-80% of their names.

Across from me sat a man in his mid-thirties, wearing thin-rimmed glasses. His shirt was buttoned up to the top, and his hair was neatly combed.

Su Qingwan introduced in a low voice: "Song Zheyuan, he's in our class, and he's now in the International Settlement Department of the Provincial Commercial Bank."

Song Zheyuan stood up and picked up his cup.

"Director Chen, it's an honor to meet you. Qingwan and I were classmates for four years in university. She was our class's academic representative and was the strictest with me."

A burst of laughter erupted from the table.

Chen Ping clinked glasses with someone and took a sip of beer.

The atmosphere was relaxed, and they talked about their university days. Who failed a course, who chased after whom, and who plagiarized their graduation thesis. Chen Ping sat listening, occasionally smiling when his name was called upon, but never interrupting.

Su Qingwan and Zhou Lin were so engrossed in their conversation that they forgot to even touch their chopsticks.

After the third round of drinks, the people at the table started to split into several groups to chat.

Song Zheyuan, holding his beer glass, moved to the empty seat next to Chen Ping and sat down.

"Director Chen, let me toast you."

Chen Ping touched it.

"Just call me by my name. There's no director here tonight."

Song Zheyuan smiled and adjusted his glasses.

"Brother Pingfang, then I won't stand on ceremony. Actually, there's something I've been wanting to say for a while, but I didn't know who to tell."

Chen Ping held the cup without moving.

Song Zheyuan lowered his voice and leaned forward slightly.

"I work in international settlement at the provincial commercial bank, and in the past six months I've handled a number of very strange transactions. There were several large remittances, all under trade terms, with contracts stating that they were for importing building materials from Southeast Asia. The amounts were substantial, each exceeding 20 million yuan, totaling over 100 million yuan in six months."

Chen Ping put down his cup.

"What's strange about it?"

"The counterparty to the contract is a Vietnamese trading company that has only been registered for a year, with a registered capital of less than 500,000 RMB. How could a shell company with 500,000 RMB receive a building materials order worth over 100 million RMB in just six months? I had someone check the customs declaration data. The declared name for those batches of goods was granite slabs, but the actual tonnage of the containers that arrived at the port did not match. According to the contract quantity, it should have filled twelve standard containers, but only three containers were actually declared at customs."

Upon hearing this, Chen Ping stopped stirring his beer.

Who is the domestic entity making the foreign exchange payment?

Song Zheyuan swallowed a mouthful of wine, lowering his voice even further.

"Kinza Real Estate".

The three words hit his ears, and Chen Ping's back muscles tensed for a moment.

Jinzuo Real Estate. He Qishan's company.

The matter in Chapter 301 wasn't over yet, and He Qishan's money had already started flowing out.

"There's one more detail." Song Zheyuan leaned in half an inch closer. "There's a guarantee letter in the payment approval process, issued by Nanzhou City Investment. I don't know the person who signed it at City Investment, but the format of the letter is different from the formal format I've seen; it seems more like it was issued privately."

Chen Ping didn't ask any further questions, and instead raised his glass to clink with Song Zheyuan's.

"Zheyuan, have you told anyone about this?"

"No. The bank has internal compliance reviews, but these transactions went through a fast track, and the review staff just let them through. I felt something was wrong, but as a middle manager, I can't report it to my superiors directly, and even if I did, no one might care."

"You did the right thing. Don't mention this to anyone yet, not even your direct supervisor."

Song Zheyuan nodded, picked up his cup, and returned to his seat.

Chen Ping glanced around the private room out of the corner of his eye; no one noticed their conversation. Su Qingwan and Zhou Lin were looking at old photos on their phones, laughing so hard they were doubled over.

One hundred million yuan was diverted overseas through fictitious trade.

Jinzuo Real Estate is the payer.

Nanzhou City Investment issued a guarantee letter.

He Qishan is transferring assets.

After Sun Heming was taken into the Discipline Inspection Commission, He Qishan must have sensed the danger. This man isn't stupid; he was preparing a way out for himself. Once the money was out there, it would be much easier for him to escape.

Chen Ping took out his phone and wrote four words in his notes: Urban Investment Guarantee.

Then lock the screen and put it back in your pocket.

Tonight is not the time to make a move.

But this line cannot be broken.

~

The party ended close to 10 p.m.

A group of people said goodbye at the door, laughing and taking group photos. Su Qingwan was pulled aside by Zhou Lin to chat for a few more minutes, while Chen Pingfang went ahead to the parking lot to get his car.

The underground parking garage was dimly lit, and footsteps echoed on the concrete floor.

Chen Ping walked to his car and reached for the door handle.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something stuck to the passenger side window.

A white strip of paper was folded and taped to the glass with transparent tape.

Chen Ping stood still, not immediately tearing it up.

He turned around and looked around the parking lot.

There were over thirty parking spaces, and most of them were occupied at this time of day. Behind the pillar, at the corner of the passageway, was the direction the surveillance camera was pointing.

No exception.

Chen Ping walked over and peeled off the note.

Blank paper, printed text, one line of text.

Be careful of the people around you.

There was no signature or endnote.

The paper was ordinary, a strip cut from an A4 sheet, with neat edges, made with a paper cutter.

Chen Ping flipped the paper over; the back was blank.

He folded the note in half, tucked it into his suit pocket, and placed it together with Xu Shouzhen's envelope.

The crisp sound of high heels clicking on the ground came from behind me.

Su Qingwan walked over and took Chen Pingfang's arm.

"Let's go, I'm sleepy."

Chen Ping opened the car door and waited for Su Qingwan to get in before walking around to the driver's seat.

As he started the engine, he glanced at the parking lot entrance in the rearview mirror.

A dark-colored van was parked on the side of the ramp, its lights off, and a person could be vaguely seen sitting in the driver's seat.

Chen Ping didn't look at it much, shifted gears, reversed, and drove out of the garage.

The bread truck didn't follow.

Su Qingwan leaned against the passenger seat with her eyes closed.

"How was tonight?"

"Hmm, not bad."

As the car merged into the traffic on the main road, Chen Ping gripped the steering wheel with his left hand and touched the corner of the note in the inside pocket of his suit jacket with his right.

Be careful of the people around you.

Which one is next to you?

Is it next to the Department of Industry and Information Technology, or next to me in this car right now?

The red light came on, and the car came to a stop. Su Qingwan reached out and placed her hand on the back of his hand; her palm was warm.

Chen Ping lowered his eyes, staring at the ticking tachometer needle on the dial, not paying attention to a single number.