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Return My Relocation Compensation
墨書 Inktalez
I stood in the hallway of the Street Office, clutching the Compensation Materials in my hand, my palm already damp with sweat.
For the third time, the staff at the door said that Director Wu was in a meeting, yet I could clearly hear voices coming from inside.
"Mr. Zhang, why don't you head back and wait for a notification?" The staff member's expression showed his discomfort.
I shook my head. "No, I’ll wait right here."
T Section Chief Wen ty-four hours ago, my father's call shattered my peaceful workday.
"Xiao Ming, can you check if our Compensation Payment has been credited? The neighbors have all received theirs, but nothing for us," my father’s voice was laced with anxiety.
I immediately logged into the Compensation Inquiry System, and the status displayed on the screen made my heart sink: "Compensation Payment has been issued."
But my father's account had not received any funds at all.
"Come in." The office door finally opened, and Wu Degui's voice came through.
He leaned casually against his desk, looking quite at ease.
"What’s the rush about?"
I slammed my father's signed documents and the Compensation Materials onto his desk. "Director Wu, please explain why these two signatures are different!"
He glanced at the document, his expression showing no signs of disturbance. "Perhaps your father's hand trembled a bit when he signed? It's a common occurrence."
"My father’s signature has never trembled."
I stared intently into his eyes. "But this signature looks very similar to the handwriting on the other documents on your desk."
Wu Degui's lips twitched slightly, and he stood up to rummage through the files. "Let me look for other materials..."
At that moment, my father appeared at the door. He walked shakily to the desk and pointed at the compensation materials. "Director Wu, do you remember? Two months ago, you offered to help me with the compensation process and asked me to give you a copy of my ID..."
"Zhang Dayong, what do you mean by that?" Wu Degui's voice suddenly rose. "I was just trying to help you, and now you're turning it against me?"
"You..." My father's face turned red, and he swayed slightly.
I quickly supported him.
"Dad, let's go to the hospital first."
As I spoke and prepared to help my father leave, my peripheral vision caught sight of another document on the desk—its signature was identical to my father's forged signature.
In the hospital corridor, I ran into elder Li, who was also inquiring about the compensation payment.
As he recounted his experience, my heart sank further—this was clearly a meticulously designed scam.
At six in the morning, I stood at the entrance of the police station.
This was my fourth visit in three days to report the case.
"Mr. Zhang, I understand your feelings," the duty officer said quietly. "But without direct evidence proving that Wu Degui is responsible, it’s difficult for us to file a case."
"What about the forged signatures?" I asked urgently.
"This kind of material..." The officer hesitated, then sighed. "You know this matter is complicated. I suggest you gather more evidence."
After leaving the police station, I Section Chief Wen t straight to a law firm.
However, after visiting three firms in a row, I received nothing but polite refusals.
"Mr. Zhang, to be honest," one lawyer said, "there are too many complications behind cases like this. If you continue to investigate, you might encounter danger. I suggest you..."
Finally, at the fourth law firm, Old Lawyer gave me a clear piece of advice.
"But this is my father's hard-earned money," I interrupted him. "I can't just let it go."
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