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墨書 Inktalez
The old lawyer paused for a moment and said, "If you insist on investigating, I suggest you prepare for two things. First, protect the safety of yourself and your family. Second, gather as much written evidence as possible."
In the afternoon, I arrived at the office of the street leaders.
After waiting for two hours, all I received was a simple, "We will conduct a thorough investigation."
The secretary's sympathetic gaze as she handed me water was filled with helplessness.
Just as I was about to leave, my father suddenly called: "Xiao Ming... I think... I'm not feeling well..."
I rushed to my father's house and found him lying on the sofa, his face pale.
The blood pressure monitor read 180.
In the ambulance, my father weakly grasped my hand: "Xiao Ming, that house is something your mother and I worked our whole lives to achieve..."
My eyes welled up with tears: "Dad, don't worry. I will definitely get to the bottom of this."
In the hospital corridor, I organized the materials I had collected over the past few days.
My wife brought me a cup of coffee, hesitating to speak.
"Has Company Leadership talked to you?" I asked.
She nodded: "He said you've been taking too many leaves recently and suggested you... should know when to stop."
I looked at my father lying in the hospital room and remembered his integrity throughout his life.
At that moment, I made up my mind: since no one was willing to uphold justice, I would seek it in my own way.
I opened my laptop and began to reorganize all the clues.
Since I studied IT, I would use my professional knowledge to confront these people.
03
I stood in front of my desk, staring at the investigation path diagram displayed on the monitor.
As an IT project manager, my professional habit has ingrained in me a systematic way of thinking: I have organized all the evidence and clues into a database, marking every key moment.
“Wu Degui, you think you’re clever, but you always leave traces behind,” I whispered to myself.
The next morning, I deliberately dressed in inconspicuous casual attire and headed to the Street Office.
Under the pretense of applying for a residence certificate, I spent the entire morning in the lobby, secretly observing Wu Degui’s every move.
He appeared busy, wandering from window to window, but I noticed he lingered at Window 3 for an unusually long time.
What was more suspicious was that each time he stood there, someone resembling a displaced resident would hand him an envelope.
At noon, while the staff took their lunch break, I seized the opportunity to wander near the archives room under the guise of looking for someone.
Though the door was locked, I could see rows of filing cabinets through the glass.
“Perhaps there are more clues here.”
I noted down this location in my phone’s memo.
The following day, I returned to the Street Office with a stack of materials.
This time, I was well-prepared: disguised as a scholar researching historical archives.
Sure enough, sister Li in the archives room was moved by my scholarly credentials and sincere demeanor, allowing me to access the materials.
“Young man, which year’s archives are you looking for?” sister Li asked.
“Documents related to urban redevelopment from 1990 to present,” I replied. “I’m studying Urban Renewal History.”
As I flipped through the files, my heart grew heavier.
In the recent five years of demolition records, at least t Section Chief Wen ty Compensation Materials exhibited strikingly similar issues to those of my father: the signatures were remarkably alike and all completed within the same timeframe.
“Excuse me, may I ask you a question?” an elderly archivist nearing retirement approached me quietly. “What exactly are you looking for?”
I cautiously glanced at her and decided to test the waters. "I'm looking into some unusual signatures."
Her expression suddenly became complex. "If you really want to know the details, you might want to talk to Director Lao Ma. He just retired last year and might be willing to share some information with you."
Once I got home, I immediately organized the information I had gathered today.
The data in the Excel spreadsheet gradually revealed an astonishing pattern: all the problematic Compensation Materials were concentrated in the last month of each quarter.
This discovery thrilled me.
Just then, my phone vibrated unexpectedly.
A text message from an unknown number read: "Young man, you've been too active lately. For your safety and that of your family, it's best to stop here."
My heart skipped a beat.
I walked to the window and thought I saw a shadow pass by below.
I pulled the curtains shut and took a deep breath.
The threatening message only confirmed that my investigative direction was correct.
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