Officialdom: Reborn in the 90s, all I want to do is quit my job and make money.

Who is Lin Yu?

Zhou Quan's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a cold awl, instantly piercing the heated and noisy air in the office.

All sounds ceased abruptly.

The obsequious smile on Director Wang's face froze, as if blown by a wind of minus thirty degrees Celsius.

He opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word.

The mayor's secretary personally came and named names; this is definitely not a good thing.

His mind was buzzing, with only one thought in his mind: It's over, Lin Yu's nonsense downstairs has alarmed the mayor, and he's going to be made an example of!

The rest of the people in the office had just been fawning over Lin Yu.

Like a mouse seeing a cat, he instantly retreated to his workstation, lowered his head, looked at the documents, and picked up his teacup, as if everything that had just happened had nothing to do with him.

Only out of the corner of his eye did he nervously glance towards the center of the incident.

In the corner, Old Liu's deathly gray face suddenly shone with an eerie light.

He almost jumped out of his chair.

coming!

finally come!

He knew that the higher a sycophant like Lin Yu climbed, the harder he would fall!

What kind of behavior is it to incite laid-off workers at the gate of the government building?

This undermines stability!

If the mayor doesn't deal with him, who will he deal with?

He almost impatiently raised his hand and pointed at the young man who was still standing there, stunned.

The movements were executed in one smooth motion, carrying a unique sense of pleasure.

"Secretary Zhou, he... he is Lin Yu!"

That instant.

Eyes were drawn from all directions, some with fear, some with pity, some with schadenfreude, and some with pure, emotionless scrutiny.

Lin Yu felt a sense of relief.

finally come.

What's meant to come will come.

His performance yesterday was clearly aimed at getting him fired.

Now that the person in charge has come knocking, the script can finally get back on track.

He had already decided that no matter what the other party asked, he would admit to everything, be as arrogant as possible, try to get labeled on the spot, pack his bags and get out of there, and head towards his small goal of one hundred million.

Zhou Quan's gaze quickly locked onto Lin Yu.

He didn't immediately lash out, but instead carefully examined him from head to toe.

There was no anger or disdain in his eyes as expected; instead, there was a strange, almost assessing calm.

The air in the office froze; everyone held their breath, awaiting the arrival of the thunderbolt.

Fine beads of sweat had already formed on Director Wang's forehead.

Zhou Quan finally spoke, his tone flat and without any emotion.

"You're Lin Yu?"

Lin Yu straightened his back, ready to face judgment: "It was me."

Zhou Quan nodded and said something that made everyone in the office doubt their ears.

"very good."

very good?

What's so good?

What's so great about it?

Director Wang was stunned.

The joy on Old Liu's face froze.

The others looked at each other, completely bewildered.

Zhou Quan seemed completely unconcerned about the reactions of the crowd, and he continued to give instructions to Lin Yu in that unquestionable tone.

"Before I leave work this afternoon, I need to see a detailed report on the whole incident at the textile factory. Also, I need a summary of your experience, clearly stating what you were thinking at the time..."

Finished

He gave Lin Yu a deep look.

Then he turned around and left without any hesitation.

The office door was gently closed, isolating the outside world but trapping a room full of astonishment and confusion inside.

A full half minute passed before Director Wang seemed to come back to life and let out a long breath.

He strode over to Lin Yu's side, his expression a complex mix of fear, relief, and barely concealed elation.

He patted Lin Yu's shoulder hard, his voice even trembling slightly.

"Kobayashi! You...you scared me to death!"

He glanced towards the doorway, then at Lin Yu, and lowered his voice excitedly, saying, "You little rascal, you've finally caught Mayor Liang's eye! Do you understand what that means?"

Lin Yu remained expressionless.

I understand.

I don't know anything.

All I know is that my plan to resign has fallen through again.

His inner voice was screaming: What can I think? Of course, I'm thinking about how to make a big deal out of this, how to get you fired so I can make a fortune! Lessons learned? Do you expect me to write "One Hundred Ways to Court Death for Actors"?

In the corner, Old Liu's expression was worse than if he had swallowed a fly.

He simply couldn't understand it.

Why?

Why is this kid not only not being punished, but instead seems to be being given an important position?

This doesn't make sense!

This is against the rules of the organization!

He felt that his decades of accumulated office survival rules had been shattered in front of Lin Yu.

The others gradually realized what was happening, and their gazes towards Lin Yu completely changed.

If before it was about seeing rare animals and the God of Wealth, now it's about seeing a living Buddha about to ascend to heaven.

One by one, they gathered around again, but this time, their attitude was more humble, even showing a hint of awe.

"Xiao Lin, no, Brother Lin, you must help us out in the future."

"Exactly, you'd better write this report carefully; it's for the mayor!"

Director Wang cleared his throat, shooed the others away, and said solemnly to Lin Yu, "Lin, don't feel pressured. Secretary Zhou's meaning was quite clear: the mayor is very interested in your problem-solving methods. Just write truthfully, highlighting your ability to adapt to changing circumstances, your methods of working with the masses, and most importantly, emphasizing how our unit, under the correct leadership of the municipal party committee and government..."

Lin Yu listened to Director Wang's endless, bureaucratic ramblings without absorbing a single word.

He looked at the ever-changing faces around him and felt a sense of absurdity.

When Secretary Zhou came in just now, these people hid faster than anyone else.

Now that the wind has shifted, they've all gathered around again.

He waved wearily and returned to his workstation to sit down.

"Director, I understand, I will write it."

Seeing that he seemed a little impatient, everyone tactfully dispersed, and the office returned to a state of apparent calm.

Only the occasional glances cast at him, a mixture of envy, jealousy, and curiosity, reminded Lin Yu that he had become the center of the storm.

He sat at the old desk, looking at the manuscript in front of him, feeling somewhat powerless.

Resignation letters are seen as a crooked or unethical practice.

Inciting trouble was seen as courageous and resourceful.

Nonsense was mistaken for alchemy.

Now, even the mayor wants him to write a report summarizing his nonsensical "advanced experience".

What's wrong with this world?

He scratched his hair in frustration.

I definitely have to write it.

But how to write it is the problem.

As Director Wang instructed, write a simplistic, formulaic essay praising the emperor's achievements.

That's not his style.

Moreover, if it were written like that, the mayor would see it as nothing special, and the matter might just be forgotten.

Lin Yu remained trapped in this damned office, continuing to be his "lucky charm" and his "Zhuge Liang".

No.

He couldn't just accept his fate.

Since fate has blocked his path time and time again, he'll find another way.

Since you all think I'm awesome, that my ideas are advanced, and that I'm a talented person...

Well.

I'll write you a list of things that "talented people" should write.

A report that will terrify you all.

A report that could be characterized as "ideologically dangerous" and "problematic in its stance".

A "confession" that could completely sideline him or even kick him out of the system.

A glimmer of light rekindled in Lin Yu's eyes.

It was a light of reckless abandon, a light that lived on the brink of death.

He picked up his pen and slowly wrote a few words at the title of the manuscript.

Some Reflections on the Structural Economic Problems of Our City Exposed by the "Textile Factory Incident"

What he wanted to write was not a summary of his experiences.

What he is writing is a "verdict" from the future, dedicated to this era.

This time, he refused to believe he couldn't bring himself to ruin it!