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

The bluestone slabs of the narrow alley were wet from the night rain, and the streetlights illuminated the water stains as shimmering pieces of gold.

"Shiwei" is hidden deep in an alley, with a narrow storefront and only a wooden sign hanging above it; there's no lightbox. Pushing aside the bamboo curtain reveals the layout of an old Sichuan-style house, with a courtyard, corridors, and bamboo screens used as partitions. The aroma of tea mingles with sandalwood, the scent subtly suppressed.

Chen Ping put it down at 8:52.

The private room was the innermost one on the second floor, with the door ajar. Han Zhiming and Wu Fangping were told to wait in the lobby on the first floor, while only Chen Pingfang went up the stairs alone.

Pushing open the door, I saw Zhong Mingyuan already seated in the main seat.

He was in his early fifties, thin, with high cheekbones and clean-shaven temples. He wore a navy blue jacket, zipped up to below his Adam's apple. On the table sat a set of gaiwan teacups, the tea a pale yellow, still steaming.

There was a person sitting next to me.

Wei Liangjun.

He wore gold-rimmed glasses, was tall, sat upright, and held a small purple clay cup in his hand. He was exactly as described by Chen's mother.

Chen Ping glanced at him, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

"Secretary Chen has come from afar, I apologize for not being a good host." Zhong Mingyuan picked up the covered bowl, stirred the tea leaves, and handed it over.

Chen Ping did not answer.

"Director Zhong, you're too kind. However, I'm not used to this tea. Chengdu's gaiwan tea emphasizes the three elements: the lid, the base, and the cup. I'm afraid I won't be able to hold it steadily."

Zhong Mingyuan hesitated for a moment before placing the covered bowl back in front of him.

"Secretary Chen is a straightforward person, so I won't beat around the bush either."

Zhong Mingyuan leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and rested his hands on his knees.

"It's not that Sichuan doesn't want to participate in the five-province alliance for Chipfire 2.0. But Jiangsu Province is leading the standard-setting process, and all the core patents are in your hands. As the other four provinces move forward, we become increasingly passive. Does Secretary Chen think this situation is fair?"

Chen Ping picked up the fairness cup on the table and poured himself a glass of plain water.

"Director Zhong, fairness isn't about who takes the lead, it's about who puts in the effort. Jiangsu Province invested 1.1 billion yuan over three years in tackling the technical challenges of the interface protocol. How much did Sichuan Province invest?"

Zhong Mingyuan tapped his knee with his finger.

"How much you invest is one thing, who sets the rules is another. The power to set standards rests with Su Jiang, and in five years you will have locked down the entire alliance's technological roadmap. At that time, companies in Sichuan will not be able to change suppliers even if they want to. What is this called? This is called technological colonization."

Technological colonization. That's a huge accusation.

Chen Ping took a sip of water and put the cup back on the table.

"Director Zhong, did Shen Changlin of Jinjiang Microelectronics know about this when you signed the suspension letter?"

There was a two-second silence in the private room.

Wei Liangjun held the teacup to his lips but didn't drink it.

Zhong Mingyuan's Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

"Jinjiang Microelectronics is a key enterprise in Sichuan Province, and suspending cooperation is also to protect the interests of enterprises within the province."

"Whose interests are being protected?"

Chen Ping took a brown paper envelope from his briefcase, placed it in the center of the table without opening it.

The envelope was very thin, containing only three pages of paper.

Zhong Mingyuan's gaze fell on the envelope, then he looked up again.

"Secretary Chen, what is this?"

"A chart showing the flow of funds."

Chen Pingfang spoke slowly, enunciating each word clearly.

"Director Zhong should have heard about Gao Ran's case. When the Provincial Procuratorate was investigating shadow funds, they found a lead—three offshore accounts that were used as transit points, ultimately ending up in four domestic corporate accounts. One of the accounts was opened at the Jinjiang branch in Chengdu, under the name Jinjiang Microelectronics, with a balance of 3.2 million yuan."

Zhong Mingyuan straightened his back.

"The provincial procuratorate's annotation for the purpose of this money states that it is 'suspected to be an intermediary fee for the transfer of Chipfire 1.0 technology'."

Chen Ping reached out and pushed the envelope two centimeters toward Zhong Mingyuan, then stopped.

"Director Zhong, there's an interesting timeline. The 3.2 million yuan arrived in your account on September 17th, three years ago. And your transfer from Deputy Director of the Sichuan Provincial Department of Industry and Information Technology to Deputy Head of the Information Technology Leading Group was announced on October 22nd of the same year."

September 17th, October 22nd.

There was a 35-day interval.

Zhong Mingyuan moved his right hand off his knee and placed it on the armrest, his five fingers clenched.

"Secretary Chen, what do you mean by this?"

"It doesn't mean anything. I just think the timing is coincidental."

Chen Ping took another sip of water and put the cup down.

"Of course, it's just a coincidence. This fund flow chart is from the provincial procuratorate's case file; I only looked at it and didn't bring it out. The envelope contained something else."

He patted the brown paper envelope.

"Director Chung, would you like to open it and take a look?"

Zhong Mingyuan stared at the envelope but didn't reach for it.

Wei Liangjun put down his teacup, clenched his fingers under the edge of the table for a moment, then released them.

Ten seconds passed.

Zhong Mingyuan raised his chin.

"Open it."

Chen Ping pulled out three pages from the envelope and spread them out on the table.

This is not a chart showing the flow of funds.

It's a proposal: "Implementation Rules (Draft) for Special Authorization of Enterprises in Sichuan Province under Chipfire 2.0".

The A4 paper has three pages. The top part contains the terms and conditions, and the bottom part is stamped with the red seal of the Jiangsu Provincial Chipfire Project Office.

Zhong Mingyuan glanced down at the two lines, and his brow twitched.

The first clause states that five companies were authorized in the first batch in Sichuan Province. Sichuan Province could recommend these companies, and the Jiangsu Provincial Technical Committee would review and approve them before they took effect.

The second clause states that authorized companies can use all permissions of the Chipfire 2.0 underlying protocol without incurring technology usage fees for three years.

Article 3: Two new positions will be added to the Alliance Standards Setting Committee, and candidates will be recommended from Sichuan Province.

Not only are they free for three years, but they are also given two seats, and even the quota for five companies is decided by Sichuan Province itself.

Zhong Mingyuan finished reading the three pages and looked up from the paper.

Chen Ping held his glass of plain water and didn't urge him to speak.

The only sound in the private room was the slow, drawn-out sound of a guqin coming from behind the screen.

Zhong Mingyuan's Adam's apple bobbed once more.

"Secretary Chen, you first used the issue of fund flow to put me on the defensive, and then offered this plan as a way out. It's a classic tactic of hitting me with a stick and then offering a sweet treat."

"Director Zhong, I didn't give you any warnings about the flow of funds."

Chen Ping put the cup down and leaned forward half an inch.

"I'm just laying out the timeline to remind you of something—Gao Ran's case is still under investigation. The people at the provincial procuratorate are more patient than I am. That lead leads to Jinjiang Microelectronics. How many steps away are we from finding the person behind Shen Changlin? Three steps? Two steps?"

A thin vein bulged at Zhong Mingyuan's temple.

"This proposal," Chen Pingfang pointed to the document on the table with his fingertip, "is the best offer you can get through normal channels. You decide the five slots yourself, you get a seat on the standards committee, and it's free for three years. Take this back with you, and you can explain it to the province, to the companies, and to yourself."

There was a pause.

"But the window of opportunity is only one week. After seven days, the Jiangsu Provincial Chipfire Project Office will send letters to the other three provinces to report on the progress of the cooperation between Sichuan and Chongqing. What is written in the letters depends on what you do during those seven days."

Zhong Mingyuan loosened his right hand on the armrest, then closed it again, his knuckles making a cracking sound.

Wei Liangjun sat beside him without saying a word, but his eyes darted around behind his gold-rimmed glasses.

Chen Ping stood up and pushed the chair back under the table.

"Director Chung, I'm not here to overturn the table."

He walked to the door, placed his hand on the door frame, and turned his head back once.

"I'm here to claim credit."

Zhong Mingyuan remained seated. The three sheets of paper on the table were damp from the steam of the covered teacup, and the paper was slightly curled. A fine layer of sweat glistened on his forehead under the dim light of the private room, trickling down one by one.