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

The ring finger of that left hand, at the second joint, was half a length shorter.

Chen Ping's gaze lingered on the man for less than a second before returning to his speech. His heartbeat remained steady, but each beat was strong.

Old musician.

He actually dared to come.

Chen Ping held the page turner, his right thumb gently rubbing the button. The plastic casing felt cool. He didn't stop his speech, calmly reading the PPT title: "The province-wide promotion of the Chipfire Standard System is an infrastructure construction project concerning the future of industry."

On the giant LED screen, the blue light network covering the entire province was shining.

In the first row, Liu Mingyuan sat upright. Next to him, Provincial Party Secretary Deshan nodded and whispered something to his secretary. The secretary quickly wrote it down in his notebook.

This is the scene of victory. The Chipfire Project has officially become a provincial strategy, transforming it from a local project.

The mastermind behind it all sat quietly in the corner of the last row, watching. He was observing how his planned ambush had failed, and how his opponent had risen to power.

This audacity, or rather arrogance, made the skin on the back of Chen Ping's neck tighten slightly.

He continued presenting the PowerPoint slides at a moderate pace. But the way he turned the pages changed.

After finishing explaining a page on data security, he pressed the page-turn button.

Three seconds later, before he had finished speaking, he pressed the button again.

Three seconds later, he pressed the button for the third time.

The content on the screen jumped around three times rapidly, disrupting the previously smooth rhythm. A few people in the audience stirred slightly.

Lin Shaofeng, who was sitting in the third row, had been looking down at his documents, but he stopped. He looked up at the screen, then his gaze fell squarely on Chen Pingfang.

This was a pre-arranged emergency signal between them. Three short commands meant "Level 1 target spotted, location locked, do not alert."

Lin Shaofeng didn't move his body, but simply pulled his left hand back from his knee, took out his phone from his pocket, placed it screen-down on his thigh, and quickly operated it with his thumb below the screen.

Chen Ping caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He resumed his normal speaking pace, as if the pause just now was a minor technical blunder.

He needs a clear face, a face that can be entered into the national security system's database for comparison.

The old musician was too far away and the light was dim, so with the naked eye I could only make out an outline and a finger that was half broken off.

The speech ended forty minutes later, followed by enthusiastic applause from the audience.

Chen Ping bowed to the podium and the audience, but did not return to his seat. Instead, he walked down from the podium, passed through the front row of leaders' seats, and headed towards the media area at the back of the auditorium.

This move surprised many people. Party Secretary Deshan and Liu Mingyuan were both preparing to leave, but seeing him walk towards the reporters, they sat back down.

Su Qingwan was packing up her voice recorder and notebook. A leather shoe stopped beside her.

She looked up.

"Deputy Secretary-General Chen."

"Reporter Su, thank you for your hard work." Chen Pingfang was very relaxed, showing no signs of the tension one might expect after delivering a high-level report. "I read the report on yesterday's hearing; it was very well written, objective, and accurate."

"Professor Gu's argument is strong enough." Su Qingwan put the recorder into her bag.

"Nice equipment." Chen Ping's gaze fell on the SLR camera hanging around her neck, the white telephoto lens particularly eye-catching. "This lens must have a very long focal length, right?"

"Seventy to two hundred," Su Qingwan replied, somewhat puzzled as to why he suddenly became interested in photography equipment.

"I've always been curious about the compression effect of telephoto lenses," Chen Ping said, leaning closer and lowering his voice by half an octave, but still loud enough for those around him to hear. "Would it be convenient for me to take a look at the world through the viewfinder?"

The request was a bit sudden, but his attitude was very sincere.

Su Qingwan hesitated for a moment, then took the camera off her neck and handed it to him.

Chen Ping took the camera, feeling its weight. He didn't immediately raise it, but instead naturally turned to face the back of the lecture hall, his fingers rotating the zoom ring.

"I'll try this two-hundred-end."

He held the camera up to his eyes, peering through the viewfinder. The lens pointed towards the corner of the last row, where a figure in a gray linen suit was rising from the crowd, preparing to leave.

The viewfinder zoomed in rapidly. The camera panned across the last row of seats and scattered documents, and then a face clearly filled the entire frame.

The man was around sixty years old, with gray hair that was neatly combed. He had several deep horizontal lines on his forehead, a high nose, and thin lips. His expression was calm, as indifferent as an outsider.

Chen Ping's index finger hovered over the shutter button for half a second, but he ultimately did not press it.

He has memorized every detail of that face.

He put down the camera and handed it back to Su Qingwan. "It's really clear. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Su Qingwan took the camera, feeling that something was off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Chen Ping straightened up, nodded to her, and turned to walk back. As he passed the platform, Secretary Deshan was already standing up, talking to Liu Mingyuan. Seeing him approach, Secretary Deshan waved to him.

"Comrade Pingfang, the report is very well done. The Core Fire standard should be implemented throughout the province as soon as possible, and the Provincial Party Committee will give it its full support."

"Thank you, Secretary."

Just then, Chen Ping's phone, which was in his pocket, vibrated very slightly.

He exchanged a few more words with Secretary Deshan and Liu Mingyuan before making an excuse to step aside and take out his phone.

The screen lit up with an encrypted text message from Lin Shaofeng.

"Initial identity verification of the target: Shen Yayun. Male, 62 years old. Former researcher of the Arts Department of the Provincial Department of Culture, retired three years ago. His personnel file is clean."

Cultural Affairs Bureau. Arts Division. Researcher.

Shen Yayun.

Dissemination of elegant culture.

Chen Ping's fingertip swept across the screen, deleting the message. A retired cadre involved in culture and art was actually the mastermind behind it all, "Old Qin Master."

The most inconspicuous identity is the best disguise.

He put away his phone, preparing to follow Liu Mingyuan. The crowd began to pour out of the auditorium, and a young man wearing a conference affairs team vest squeezed past him, walking hurriedly.

"I'm sorry," the young man said softly.

Chen Ping didn't pay attention and stepped aside.

After taking only two steps, Chen Pingfang felt something extra in his suit pocket. It was lighter than a cell phone and felt like a piece of paper.

Chen Ping stopped walking and followed the crowd to the corridor outside the auditorium. Liu Mingyuan was talking to several mayors.

Chen Ping walked to a fire hydrant, turned his back to the crowd, and put his hand into his pocket.

My fingertips touched a folded strip of stiff paper.

He pulled out the note and unfolded it.

The note was unsigned, containing only four characters written in pen with great force.

"The string broke."