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

"There's one more thing. I found a guqin plectrum in the gap of the computer case. It's made of ox horn and has a character engraved on it: '韵' (yun, meaning rhythm/charm)."

Chen Ping held the phone but didn't answer.

Shen Yayun. Guqin (a seven-stringed zither). Rhyme.

This pick directly proves that Shen Yayun is connected to that ghost server. Shen Yayun personally went to that underground server room back then. She stayed there for a long time before her personal belongings slipped out of her pocket and fell into the gap of the server rack.

"Seal the items and bring them back. Write the research report as usual, without mentioning the underground floor."

"clear."

The phone hangs up.

Chen Ping leaned back in his chair, two fingers pressed against his temples. Fang Qizheng. The moment that name escaped Han Zhiming's lips, the nature of the matter changed.

The Secretary of the Provincial Political and Legal Affairs Commission is in charge of the province's public security, procuratorate, courts, and judicial departments. Fang Qizheng is also the leader in charge of the State Security Department. He is Director Chu's direct superior.

The server that Chen Ping asked Director Chu to investigate was actually hidden in the project that Fang Qizheng had signed off on back then.

Chen Ping picked up the encrypted phone on the table, then put it down again. He couldn't call. At least not now. Director Chu was Fang Qizheng's direct subordinate, and Fang Qizheng had the right to access every step of the "Clean Up the Internet" operation. If Fang Qizheng was the one whose face had been painted over, then from today onwards, the National Security Bureau was no longer safe.

Chen Ping took the old photo out of the inner bag and spread it on the table.

Three people. Qin Daguan on the left, Shen Yayun on the right, and a mass of black ink in the middle.

In the autumn of the Gengchen year, the three of them traveled together.

The Second Guesthouse of the Provincial Party Committee.

Chen Ping flipped the photo over, staring at the line of handwriting on the back. The strokes were firm and straight. The person who wrote it was the one in the middle.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Su Qingwan.

"Senior, are you coming home for dinner tonight? I bought a sea bass."

Chen Ping glanced at the time; it was 6:10. Secretary-General Chen put the photos away and stood up.

Forty minutes later, Chen Ping opened the door to his home.

The entryway light was on, and the sound of oil sizzling came from the kitchen. Su Qingwan, wearing an apron, was putting ginger slices into the wok. The girl's hair was tied in a ponytail, and there was a little flour on her forehead.

"You're back?"

Su Qingwan glanced at Chen Pingfang, her hands still moving.

"Wash your hands, dinner will be served in ten minutes."

Chen Pingfang changed into slippers and went to the bathroom to wash his face. The man in the mirror had dark circles under his eyes and a taut jawline. Chen Pingfang dried his hands with a towel, went into the kitchen, and leaned against the door frame.

Su Qingwan was pouring sauce over the sea bass, and the steaming soy sauce dripped down the fish, making her face slightly red.

How's the response to your column?

Su Qingwan used her chopsticks to pick up a slice of scallion and arranged it on the plate without looking up.

"The editor said the backend data exploded. The number of reads broke the platform's monthly record for non-fiction, and the comment section was in an uproar. Half of them were criticizing me for not understanding the industry, and the other half were praising me for daring to speak the truth."

Su Qingwan brought the fish out and placed it on the table.

"Someone from the provincial propaganda department called this afternoon. They didn't say much, just asked me what I was going to write about next."

"What did you reply?"

I said I haven't thought about it yet.

Su Qingwan took off her apron, sat down opposite Chen Pingfang, and picked up the serving chopsticks to put a piece of fish belly on his plate.

"But I've already made up my mind."

The girl looked at Chen Pingfang.

"I want to write about the technological sovereignty issue of the Chipfire standard. The core argument is that a country's industrial security cannot be built on licensing agreements with others."

Chen Ping picked up the piece of fish but didn't eat it right away.

This story was chosen just before M~Tek prepared to file a patent countersuit. Su Qingwan was unaware that M~Tek was about to take action, but the girl's journalistic intuition led her to the right direction.

"Write it down." Chen Ping put the fish in his mouth. "But don't mention the Corefire Project Office, don't mention any specific company names. Only talk about the principles, only talk about the logic."

Su Qingwan nodded, and was about to speak when the doorbell rang.

Both of them looked towards the entrance at the same time.

Very few people know this address. Since Chen Ping moved here, only Han Zhiming and Lin Shaofeng have visited.

The doorbell rang again.

Chen Ping got up and walked over, looking out through the peephole.

A man around sixty years old stood in the corridor. He was rather thin, wearing a gray coat and carrying a box of tea. His hair was gray and neatly combed, and he wore gold-rimmed glasses.

Su Qingwan followed and peeked over from behind Chen Ping's shoulder.

"Teacher Liang?"

Su Qingwan was somewhat surprised.

Chen Ping opened the door.

"Qingwan, sorry to bother you." The person outside the door smiled, speaking slowly and gently, "I was just passing by and remembered you said you moved to a new place, so I thought I'd come up and have a look."

Su Qingwan quickly stepped aside to make way.

"Professor Liang, please come in quickly. Senior, this is my graduate advisor, Dean Liang Bowen of the Provincial Academy of Social Sciences."

Liang Bowen stepped across the threshold, handed the tea to Su Qingwan, and then turned to Chen Pingfang to extend his hand.

"Deputy Secretary-General Chen, I've heard so much about you. I read every single one of Qingwan's columns; they're very well-written."

Chen Ping shook hands with the other person. Liang Bowen's palm was dry, and he released the hand after a brief shake.

"Dean Liang, you're too kind."

After the three of them sat down in the living room, Su Qingwan went to make tea, while Chen Pingfang and Liang Bowen sat facing each other.

Liang Bowen glanced around the living room.

Liang Bowen said, "A young person's home should have a sense of life."

Su Qingwan came out carrying the brewed tea.

"Professor Liang, what brings you here today? I remember the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences is working on a research project, isn't it?"

Liang Bowen took the teacup.

"I've finished that project. I've had some free time these past couple of days, and while I was going through some old things at home, I came across something that I thought was quite interesting, so I wanted to talk to someone about it."

He took a sip of tea before continuing.

"Qingwan told me that you've been organizing some old files recently."

Chen Ping placed his hand on the sofa armrest and didn't move.

It seems Su Qingwan has already mentioned to her advisor that she investigated the background building in that photo for Chen Ping. The more people the information passes through, the greater the risk of it leaking.

Chen Ping glanced at Su Qingwan.

The girl noticed Chen Pingfang's gaze, pursed her lips, and offered no explanation.

Liang Bowen pretended not to notice the eye contact between the two.

"I worked at the Provincial Academy of Social Sciences for thirty years, and before that I also spent some time at the Party School. I know a little about what happened around the time of Gengchen."

Chen Ping's fingertips stopped on the armrest.

"Did Dean Liang work at the Party School?"

"Yes, from 1998 to 2003, I was the deputy director of the theoretical teaching and research office at the Party School." Liang Bowen picked up his teacup, his hand steady. "Later, I was transferred to the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences."

From 1998 to 2003.

This period includes the process of initiating the Ghost server project.

Chen Ping stood up, walked to the bookshelf, and took something out of his briefcase.

That old photograph.

Chen Ping placed the photo face up on the coffee table and pushed it in front of Liang Bowen.

"Dean Liang, take a look at this photo. Do you recognize it?"

Liang Bowen glanced down.

The old man's right hand, holding the teacup, trembled slightly. Tea spilled from the rim and onto the back of his hand. Liang Bowen didn't wipe it away; he simply put the cup down.

Liang Bowen's finger hovered above the photo, hesitant to drop it.

Su Qingwan sat next to her and straightened her back when she saw her mentor's reaction.

Liang Bowen took a deep breath and tapped the edge of the photo with his index finger.

"This is the graduation photo of the first cross-century youth cadre training class in Jiangsu Province."

Liang Bowen's voice was a little lower than before.

"In the autumn of the Gengchen year, after the graduation ceremony, several outstanding students took a group photo in front of the guesthouse."