Monday dawned overcast, the sky a uniform gray that gave the city a muted hush. The smog and humidity did not yet press on the buildings; the air was almost gentle. Lin Ze rolled out of bed at six. He showered, made himself a cup of black tea, and sat at his kitchen table to continue assembling the documents for the compliance review. The salt jar sat next to his laptop like a small talisman. He occasionally touched it, grounding himself.
At eight, he met Zhang Yu and Su Yanli in a conference room with a wall of windows overlooking the Huangpu River. Zhang Yu had spread out files across the table like playing cards. Each file was color-coded.
"These are the scholarship disbursements," he said, tapping a blue folder. "Chronological, signed by you and two countersignatories. Here is the portfolio allocation," he continued, sliding a green binder. "Real estate purchases, equity investments, cash reserves. All authorized by the trust's rules. And here," he said, placing a red folder down, "are the donations made since you assumed management. Total sum, donor names, conditions, audit trails."
Lin Ze flipped through the documents. The numbers were neat. The signatures clear. There were no gaps. He had insisted on this from the beginning: nothing verbal, nothing off the books.
"We will walk in with these," Zhang Yu said. "We will ask them to point to any transaction that violates the trust's charter. They won't find any."
"They'll try," Lin Ze said.
"They will," Zhang Yu agreed. "Some may not care about legality. They care about perception. Which is why you need to be calm. Let me handle the law. You handle the optics. Facts and tone."
"And don't take the bait," Su Yanli added, not looking up from her phone. "They may accuse you of impropriety. They may bring up your dinner with me. Or your livestream with Meiqi. Or your mother's hospital bills. Don't defend your personal life. Redirect to the work."
Lin Ze nodded. He had been on debate teams in school. He knew about redirects. "And if they threaten to freeze the funds?" he asked.
"We remind them of the PR disaster that would follow," Su Yanli said casually, finally setting her phone down. "The scholarships are public. Students will cry on camera. Donors will question their motives. Politicians will ask why the wealthy are punishing the poor because of petty politics."
"Will they care?" he asked.
She met his gaze. "They care about optics," she said. "Not morality. Use that. If they know freezing the trust hurts them, they'll think twice."
He exhaled. "Understood."
Zhang Yu packed the folders back into his case. "We'll do a mock run after lunch," he said. "For now, eat something. You'll need focus."
As they dispersed, Su Yanli lingered. "Han texted me," she said quietly.
"About?" he asked.
"He wants to meet you alone this afternoon," she said. "He says he has 'information to share.'"
"That could mean anything," Lin Ze replied.
"It could," she said. "Do you want me there?"
"No," he said. "He asked for me. I'll hear him."
"Be careful," she said. "He enjoys maneuvers. And he knows we're preparing for the review. He may try to destabilize you."
"I'll bring salt," he said dryly.
She smiled faintly, then her face softened. "And tonight?" she asked. "The… anonymous friend?"
"I'm going," he said. "Alone."
She was silent for a moment. "I don't like it," she said. "It could be a trap."
"I know," he said. "But I need information. I need to know if the board is really going to freeze the trust. I need to know who's behind it. If I don't, I'm walking blind."
She tapped her fingers on the table. "Take a recording device," she said. "And choose a table near a camera. If they planned something violent, they'll reconsider if there are witnesses."
He nodded. "I will. And I'll text you when I arrive. And when I leave."
She sighed. "Good," she said. "I hate being in the dark."
"So do I," he said.
At one o'clock, he met Han Yuchen in a tea room inside a hotel near Lujiazui. The room was private, decorated with bamboo and calligraphy scrolls. A low table sat in the center with two cushions. Han waited, dressed in a slate-gray suit that managed to look relaxed. He poured tea into two cups without ceremony. No oolong this time. Pu-erh, dark and earthy.
"Thank you for coming," Han said.
"You invited me," Lin Ze replied, sitting across from him.
Han's lips curved. "So blunt," he said. "It's refreshing."
They drank in silence for a few moments. The tea was bitter, in the way that cleared your palate.
"I heard about your compliance review," Han said.
"Of course you did," Lin Ze replied. "News travels fast."
"I want to assure you," Han said, leaning forward, "I had nothing to do with it."
"Your mother's foundation uses the marketing firm that owns the bots," Lin Ze said.
Han blinked. His expression didn't change, but a flicker of annoyance passed through his eyes. "You've been investigating me," he said.
"No," Lin Ze said. "I've been investigating the smear."
"And it led to me," Han said quietly.
"It led to your mother," Lin Ze corrected. "Perhaps indirectly. But the smear and the compliance review feel coordinated."
Han sighed. "My mother is… protective," he said. "She doesn't trust easily. She thinks you're a risk. Not because you're incompetent, but because you're unpredictable. She likes predictability."
"And does she act without your knowledge?" Lin Ze asked.
"Sometimes," Han admitted. "She sees things I don't. She acts on behalf of our family. I cannot control every move she makes."
"So you're not in control," Lin Ze said. "Not of your family. Not of the trust. Not of the narrative."
Han's jaw tightened. "Careful," he said.
Lin Ze held up his hand. "I'm just stating facts," he said. "I appreciate honesty. You asked me to step back. I refused. You said you prefer certainty. But your mother's actions create chaos. What do you want from me now?"
Han took a sip of tea, considering. "I want a peace," he said finally.
"With your mother?" Lin Ze asked.
"With all of this," Han said. "The smear, the tension, the board. I believe you are an asset, not a liability. I believe the scholarship fund is good for the trust's image. I told my mother this. She did not listen. So I am here, telling you directly: I will support you in the compliance review. I will speak to the board if needed. I will tell them freezing your access will harm us more than help."
"Why?" Lin Ze asked. "What changed?"
"You didn't," Han said simply. "You acted with integrity. You didn't lash out at the smear. You didn't throw salt at me. You maintained your line. That is useful."
"So this is purely pragmatic," Lin Ze said.
"Of course," Han said. "But pragmatism has a moral component. It values stability. And you bring stability, even when people think you bring chaos."
Lin Ze laughed quietly. "You're a poet," he said.
Han smiled. "No," he said. "I'm a realist. I also want to share something else."
He pulled a folder from his briefcase and slid it across the table. Lin Ze opened it. Inside were photocopies of emails. They were between a board member, Mr. Huang, and a person named Mei Zhao. Mei Zhao worked for the Dongyang Shipping conglomerate, owned by Han's mother. The emails discussed "restructuring the scholarship disbursement process" and "appointing a new external representative." It was clear: the board member and Mei Zhao were coordinating to replace Lin Ze.
"This is what my friend in compliance found," Han said quietly. "I'm giving it to you because I don't want you blindsided tomorrow. Mr. Huang will lead the motion to freeze your access. Mei Zhao will claim the trust needs new management to preserve its reputation. They plan to install someone from Dongyang Shipping."
Lin Ze scanned the pages. He recognized Mei Zhao's name; she was a senior advisor to Han's mother. The emails were casual, even flippant, as if they assumed no one would read them. They mentioned "that boy" and "his influencer girlfriend" with disdain.
"Why give this to me?" Lin Ze asked, closing the folder.
"Because if I don't and you find out later, you'll blame me," Han said. "Because I don't want Mr. Huang to get more power. He's unscrupulous. He siphons funds. Replacing you with him means we lose control of the trust to Dongyang. That's not acceptable to me."
"And you're not concerned that giving me this might implicate you?" Lin Ze asked.
"I didn't write those emails," Han said. "And if my mother's advisor is plotting behind my back, then she should be exposed. She should be accountable. This keeps her in check."
Lin Ze leaned back. "You're playing a long game," he said.
"We all are," Han replied. "Consider this my pawn advancing two squares."
Lin Ze placed the folder in his bag. "Thank you," he said. "I'll use this."
"Use it carefully," Han said. "Do not burn bridges you cannot rebuild."
"Coming from you, that's ironic," Lin Ze said.
They stood. Han extended his hand. "Good luck," he said. "And remember: my mother is formidable. Do not underestimate her."
"I won't," Lin Ze said.
The sun was setting when he arrived at the Riverside Cafe. It was tucked away on a narrow street near the river, its terrace overlooking the water. The cafe was half empty. Soft jazz played. The smell of roasted coffee beans hung in the air. He chose a table near the window, where a security camera above the door could see him. He ordered tea. He texted Su Yanli: Arrived at the cafe. Second to last table by window. Will text when done. She replied with a thumbs-up emoji. He smiled at the incongruity.
He glanced around. Couples, a few students, a group of tourists. No one looked suspicious. At 8:05, the door opened. A woman in her late thirties walked in. She wore a navy blazer, glasses, and carried a leather folder. Her hair was cut in a short bob. She looked like someone used to blending in. She scanned the room, spotted him, and approached.
"Mr. Lin?" she asked, voice low.
"Yes," he said. "You're…"
"E. Liu," she said. "We emailed earlier."
His eyes widened. She was the compliance officer who had sent the legitimate meeting request. And, apparently, the anonymous friend.
"You're the one who warned me," he said.
"Yes," she said, sitting across from him. "I'm sorry for the cloak and dagger. I needed to be sure you would come. And I can't send this through official channels."
She placed the folder on the table and opened it. Inside were documents. Minutes from board meetings. Draft resolutions. Bank statements with certain lines highlighted.
"Mr. Lin," she said, "the board is compromised. Mr. Huang and Mei Zhao have been siphoning small amounts from the trust into shell companies. Not scholarship money; they're not that stupid. They're diverting management fees, consultant retainers. It's legal because the board approves these contracts. But the companies are owned by Mr. Huang's nephew and Mei Zhao's cousin. It's corruption disguised as legitimate expense."
Lin Ze's jaw tightened. "And they want to freeze my access because?" he asked.
"Because you stand in the way," she said. "You're too transparent. You insist on audits. You ask questions. They cannot siphon more with you watching. And the smear campaign? It gives them moral cover. They'll say, 'We have concerns about Mr. Lin's conduct, his relationship with beneficiaries, his media presence. We need to pause and investigate.' And during that pause, they push through bigger diversions and appoint their own person to manage the trust. Once that's done, it's over."
He felt anger building. "How long has this been happening?" he asked, flipping through the statements.
"For years," she said quietly. "I joined the trust three years ago. I thought I could change things. I failed. They froze me out. They ignored my reports. I stayed because I wanted to gather enough evidence. This is only part of it. If I bring it up in the compliance review tomorrow, they'll fire me. They'll claim I fabricated it. I need you to be prepared. I need you to know who you're dealing with."
"Why risk your job?" he asked, looking up at her.
"Because I believe in what the scholarship fund is doing," she said. "My niece is one of your recipients. She's studying computer science. No one in our family ever went to university. The trust helped her. I cannot stand by and watch men like Mr. Huang use this money to buy yachts."
He nodded slowly. "What do you want from me?" he asked.
"I want you to fight back," she said. "I want you to go into that review with facts and courage. I want you to expose them, but carefully. If you attack outright, they'll circle the wagons. Start by asking about expense ratios. Ask for justification of consultant fees. Ask why management fees increased when scholarships remained constant. Make them explain themselves. And if they threaten you, bring out the emails."
"And you?" he asked.
"I will speak up if I'm asked," she said. "But only if you create a space where they cannot shut me down. You need allies on the board. Not all of them are corrupt. Some simply don't know. Appeal to them."
He absorbed this. "And Mei Zhao? Han's mother's advisor. Does Han know?" he asked.
She hesitated. "I don't think so," she said. "Han is sharp, but his mother shields him from certain details. Mei Zhao handles things quietly. She's a fixer. She has connections. Including bot farms. Including media."
He thought of the emails Han had given him. "I have evidence against her," he said.
"Use it wisely," E. Liu said. "If you blow up everything now, they'll retaliate viciously. Aim precisely. Remove Mr. Huang first. Then target Mei Zhao. Do not attack Han's mother publicly. She will crush you."
"Why are you giving me strategy?" he asked.
"Because I've tried to fight alone," she said, eyes steely. "I failed. I need someone who can fight publicly. You can. And because you remind me of myself when I thought I could change the world."
He smiled. "That's both a compliment and a warning," he said.
She nodded. "Be better than I was," she said. "Now, I have to go. If anyone asks, we never met."
"Wait," he said. "If I need to contact you?"
"I'll find you," she said, gathering her things. She stood. "Good luck, Mr. Lin. They underestimate you. Use that."
She left quickly, blending into the night like mist. He sat for a moment, the weight of new information settling. Corruption. Conspiracy. A compliance officer turned whistleblower. Han's mother's advisor plotting behind his back. A board member siphoning funds. A smear campaign orchestrated by a fixer.
He texted Su Yanli: Meeting done. Info serious. Will brief tomorrow. She replied: Copy. Get sleep. Salt, water, documents.
He smiled. He gathered the folder into his bag, paid the bill, and walked out. The river was dark, rippling with city lights. He stopped at the railing. Somewhere behind him, people laughed. Somewhere in front, a cargo ship moved silently.
His phone buzzed one more time. An unknown number. He answered.
"Mr. Lin," a man's voice said. "This is Mr. Huang. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Please come prepared. We have… concerns."
He hung up without replying. He put his phone away. He looked at the river and whispered to himself, "Prepared."