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

"Sign it tonight?"

Chen Ping put the file bag on the table, then pushed back his chair and stood up.

Han Zhiming held his phone; the screen was lit up, displaying a WeChat message.

"It was a message from General Manager Zhao's secretary. He said that the conditions in Lingnan are very good. They will give them three years of rent-free factory space, and the tax rebate is eight percentage points higher than here."

Chen Ping grabbed his car keys and pulled open the office door.

Where is Huaxing New Materials' factory located?

"The eastern part of the High-tech Zone, three kilometers east along the river."

"Walk."

The windows of the budget hotel rattled in the wind, and it had started raining outside. By the time Chen Ping ran to the parking lot, raindrops were already pounding against the windshield.

Han Zhiming climbed into the passenger seat, his trouser legs half-wet.

"Director, the general manager of Huaxing New Materials is Zhao Weiguo. He's from Zhejiang and has been working with target materials for twenty years. He has a technical background. He doesn't move easily, but once he decides to leave, he won't turn back."

Chen Ping turned the key, and the Passat's windshield wipers swept across the glass, making the view barely clear.

Have you contacted the bank yet?

"I've been contacted. President Wang of the Municipal Rural Commercial Bank told me that he can't make the decision on the bridge loan; it has to be discussed at a meeting."

"What time is it?"

"9:40 PM."

"Call President Wang and tell him that I am Chen Pingfang, the newly appointed Party Working Committee Secretary of the High-tech Zone. Ask him to send the fax copy of the credit approval to my mobile phone before midnight tonight. The credit line is 20 million yuan, the term is six months, and the interest rate is based on the benchmark rate."

Han Zhiming hesitated for a second.

"Director, how should we resolve this guarantee issue?"

"The park management committee issued a guarantee letter, which I signed."

"But what about Zhao Deming?"

"I'm the director of the management committee. The committee's official seal is in the office safe. Where's the key?"

Han Zhiming took out a bunch of keys from his pocket and waved them under the car's interior light.

"The Organization Department handed over the safe key today; it's the third one."

Chen Ping backed the car out of the parking space, stepped on the gas, and the Passat sped into the rain.

A chain was strung at the entrance of Huaxing New Materials' factory, and the light in the guardhouse was on. Chen Ping honked the horn twice, and a security guard in a raincoat walked over with a flashlight.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for your General Manager Zhao."

"Mr. Zhao isn't here. Please come tomorrow."

Han Zhiming rolled down the car window, and rain splashed all over his face.

"We are from the High-tech Zone Management Committee. Please inform them."

The security guard shone a flashlight on the two men's faces, hesitated for a few seconds, then took out his walkie-talkie and mumbled a few words. Three minutes later, the chain loosened and the bar was raised.

The factory area was dark, with only two offices on the second floor of the administration building emitting light. Chen Ping parked his car downstairs and ran into the lobby in the rain. Half of the motion-sensor lights in the stairwell were broken, and the two of them trudged up to the second floor, their steps uneven.

At the end of the corridor, voices could be heard coming from a half-open door.

"I've booked the plane tickets. Just lock those documents in your suitcase and take them with you tomorrow."

Chen Ping knocked on the door three times.

The voice stopped. The door opened, and a man around fifty years old stood behind it, his hair graying, his eyes bloodshot behind his glasses. On the desk behind him were two open cardboard boxes, stuffed with folders and sample bags.

Zhao Weiguo.

Zhao Weiguo looked Chen Ping up and down. His cotton coat was soaked, his cloth shoes were wet from stepping in the puddles in the corridor, and his trousers were clinging to his calves.

"Who are you?"

"Chen Pingfang, Secretary of the Party Working Committee of the High-tech Zone, just took office today."

Zhao Weiguo neither made way nor invited him in.

"Secretary Chen, you've come all this way at this hour to see him off?"

Chen Ping didn't respond to that. Instead, he took the file bag from Han Zhiming, pulled out two documents, and handed them over through the door frame.

"Mr. Zhao, take a look at the items first, then decide whether to go or not."

Zhao Weiguo took it and opened the first document.

The credit approval letter from the Municipal Rural Commercial Bank, with its red official seal affixed to the lower right corner, indicates a credit line of 20 million yuan, a term of six months, and an interest rate ten percentage points lower than the benchmark rate. The letter was dated 11:18 PM tonight.

Han Zhiming stood behind Chen Ping, and the fax from President Wang had just arrived on his phone screen twenty minutes earlier.

Zhao Weiguo put down the first copy and opened the second one.

The "One Enterprise, One Policy" Customized Service Commitment Letter of Qingjiang High-tech Zone. Two pages of A4 paper, few in number, but each clause is substantial. The Chief Service Officer section lists the name Chen Pingfang. The third clause states: For any issues encountered by enterprises regarding approvals, land use, or energy consumption, the Chief Service Officer must provide a solution or clear answer within 48 hours; failure to do so will result in accountability by the District Discipline Inspection Commission.

Zhao Weiguo looked at the two documents over and over again before looking up.

"Secretary Chen, I've been listening to your sweet talk for three years. The previous secretary signed similar documents, and what happened after that? Subsidies were stuck for six months, the approval department demanded kickbacks, and they even rationed my electricity."

He tossed the documents back onto the table and pointed to the two cardboard boxes.

"Lingnan gave me a whole plot of land, three years rent-free, the government built the factory, and all the paperwork was done in seven days. What do you have to compare with them?"

Chen Ping didn't back down, but took half a step forward and stood inside the door frame.

"Mr. Zhao, I don't deny that Lingnan has good conditions. But if you move your target material production line, the equipment debugging will take at least six months. After six months, the window of opportunity for domestic substitution of Corefire 2.0 will have passed. By the time you finish building the production line in Lingnan, the market will have already been snatched up by Japan and South Korea."

Zhao Weiguo's hand remained still at the edge of the cardboard box.

"You've been rooted in Qingjiang for three years, your entire technical team is here, and all the upstream and downstream support is here. What you're moving isn't just equipment, it's the entire supply chain."

Chen Ping reached into the file bag and pulled out another piece of paper, which he then spread out in front of Zhao Weiguo.

The management committee's guarantee letter, with its bright red official seal, had Chen Ping's name in the signature column, the ink still wet.

"A 20 million bridge loan, guaranteed by the management committee, and personally signed off by me. This money is enough for you to restart the two production lines that were shut down and get through the three months when cash flow is tightest."

He paused for a moment.

"As for the 50 million yuan subsidy that was withheld from Huaxing New Materials, I have initiated a cross-audit of the landscape corridor project. Once the audit results are available, the misappropriated money will be recovered in full, and the subsidy will be disbursed through the proper procedures again."

Zhao Weiguo pulled his hand back from the edge of the cardboard box and placed it on the table.

The office was quiet for about ten seconds, with only the sound of rain outside the window.

Zhao Weiguo took off his glasses, wiped the lenses with the hem of his shirt, and put them back on.

"Secretary Chen, you just took office this morning, and you dare to use the management committee's official seal to guarantee a company's loan tonight? Aren't you afraid of getting into trouble?"

"Afraid."

Chen Ping's straightforward answer surprised Zhao Weiguo.

"But the discontinuation of the target material supply for the Corefire project is a hundred times more serious than an accident involving me personally."

Zhao Weiguo stared at Chen Pingfang for five seconds. A soaked cotton coat, muddy cloth shoes—the two men who had braved the rain late at night were not the same kind of people he had seen in the past three years, sitting in air-conditioned rooms reading from prepared speeches.

Zhao Weiguo reached out, closed the lids of the two cardboard boxes on the table, and pushed them into the corner.

"I've cancelled my plane ticket."

Han Zhiming let out a long sigh of relief in the corridor.

Zhao Weiguo opened the drawer, took out a bottle of mineral water, and handed it to Chen Ping.

"Secretary Chen, let me remind you of something. Zhao Deming has been in the Management Committee for eleven years. From top to bottom, in finance, approvals, investment promotion, and logistics, everyone is his man. Today, you've stirred up a hornet's nest by making a move against Liu Guodong and Wang Kai."

He unscrewed another bottle of water and took a sip.

"He won't sit and wait for you to investigate."

Chen Ping took the bottle of mineral water but didn't open it.

"Mr. Zhao, you take care of the company's affairs. I'll handle the management committee matters."

On the way back, the rain stopped. The Passat's tires splashed water as they drove over the puddles. Han Zhiming was organizing audio files in the passenger seat when his phone suddenly vibrated again.

"Director, this is from General Manager Zhao's secretary: the plane tickets have been cancelled."

Chen Ping nodded without saying anything.

The car arrived at the entrance of the management committee building, and the clock struck one in the morning. One by one, the motion-activated lights in the corridor turned on, and the sound of their footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell.

Chen Ping pushed open the door to his fourth-floor office and reached out to turn on the light.

The lights came on.

There's something new on the desk, under the keyboard.

A brown paper envelope, unsigned and unpostmarked. It was sealed tightly with transparent tape, and only one line of text was written on the front.

"A formal complaint against Zhao Deming for violating discipline and the law."

Chen Ping's hand hovered above the envelope, but he didn't touch it.

He turned his head and glanced at the door lock—it was intact, with no signs of tampering.