Liang Meng had made it clear: the one backing Daiwei was Liang Xing herself.

But winning through verbal sparring and speculation alone wasn’t enough — evidence had to be produced.

All right, then. Time to show her hand.

Liang Meng gave Lin Qing another look.

Lin Qing immediately understood, and opened her laptop.

Lin Qing’s “post-apocalyptic” attire had indeed produced a powerful effect of misdirection.

It was only after she had walked through all the data in her presentation that everyone in the meeting room — including Daiwei — realized they had been completely caught off guard.

They had all genuinely underestimated this new little assistant.

The parameters, models, and logic were all accounted for without exception.

Every hyperlink was supported by solid, clearly sourced evidence.

Even the layout of the slides was meticulously precise — not a single unnecessary word, not a single incorrect typeface.

In her conclusion, Lin Qing stated: “This public relations crisis for the Longquan Group was absolutely the result of an internal leak. In addition to passing the recording to the media, someone from inside the company also went through a VPN to hire online trolls with the deliberate intent to smear the company and President Liang.”

The color drained from Daiwei’s face, shifting between pale and sickly green.

In the space of a single day, the woman he called “Little Meng” had laid out the evidence and pointed the finger squarely at their own marketing department as the instigators.

“That still doesn’t prove it was someone from our marketing department who did it.” Daiwei held his ground stubbornly.

Liang Meng smiled once more and asked: “Did I ever say it was someone from your marketing department?”

Daiwei had indeed just revealed his own hand.

But he was desperate to distance himself from the affair, so he said loudly: “Then you tell us — who did it! Show us the proof!”

Daiwei was betting that Liang Meng had nothing to show.

Evidence? Ha.

It had all been destroyed long ago.

By the time things had reached this point.

Lin Qing was also holding her breath on Liang Meng’s behalf.

Because truly, there was no evidence.

At least, there hadn’t been when the two of them had discussed things together.

“I genuinely don’t have evidence,” Liang Meng first softened her stance, then hardened: “But I have a method. Let me share it with everyone.”

“Go ahead.”

“Before the recording was leaked, no more than twenty people came in and out of my office in total — and that includes you, Uncle Daiwei.” Liang Meng spoke with measured severity. “There is surveillance footage at my office door.”

“Hmph! You said it and it means nothing! By your logic, everyone who went in there should be sentenced to execution?”

Daiwei scoffed dismissively.

He’d thought Liang Meng would say something with a bit more substance — but it turned out a dog’s mouth really can’t produce ivory. Same old Little Meng, pulling pointless childish tricks.

“So you’d rather punish the innocent than let the guilty slip through? Fine — how about this: you start by making an example of Uncle Daiwei — pin the label of betraying the company on me and fire me!” Daiwei challenged impatiently.

Liang Meng let out a cold chuckle, and at her own unhurried pace, continued: “Simple enough! Since no one will admit it, and I have no evidence — I have no choice but to dock three months’ salary from every single person who entered my office, as a warning to all.”

“That’s not fair!”

Someone immediately raised a fierce objection.

“Exactly! Three months’ salary! You think you can just dock it whenever you feel like it?”

“Punishing everyone equally — is that how ‘President Liang’ handles problems?”

“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!”

“Why should we waste our time here — she can’t name anyone, she has no evidence, and now she wants to arbitrarily dock salaries!”

Nobody accepted Liang Meng’s ruling.

This was exactly the outcome Daiwei and his allies wanted — to strip Liang Meng of her authority.

Liang Meng had anticipated this. She let them argue for a moment, then continued: “If you think that’s unfair, I have another suggestion. If the person steps forward right now, I’ll only dock six months’ salary and confiscate fifty percent of their stock options. After that, this matter is considered closed.”

With that, Liang Meng deliberately shifted her provocative gaze toward Peter.

The room fell into silence once again.

Liang Meng’s words seemed simple, but they immediately shifted the subtle dynamics of the room.

On the surface, the meeting room appeared quiet — but inside the minds of those twenty people, the mental abacus beads were clicking away furiously, like great and small pearls tumbling onto a jade plate.

Lin Qing had to think about it for a moment before she understood.

What Liang Meng had applied here was actually an operations research case study known as the “Prisoner’s Dilemma.”

[The Prisoner’s Dilemma]

Two suspects are arrested by the police.

If Suspect A confesses while Suspect B stays silent, A will be sentenced to ten years in prison. If Suspect B confesses while Suspect A stays silent, B will be sentenced to ten years.

But if both stay silent, they can only be sentenced to six months each. If both confess, they will each receive five years.

If you were in their shoes — what would you choose?

A few minutes later, under growing pressure, Daiwei finally spoke up: “Whoever leaked that recording — step forward yourself. Don’t drag everyone else down with you.”

Without the support of his backer, Peter had no choice but to slink forward and admit: “I’m sorry, President Liang. It was me.”

“It was you?! You rotten wretch!”

Daiwei immediately put on a great show of shock, raising his fist in a theatrical display as if about to strike him!

Sacrifice a pawn to protect the king.

Liang Meng had predicted it precisely.

According to the Nash Equilibrium in game theory, each person, fearing that the other will break their alliance, will act in their own self-interest first.

Daiwei absolutely was not going to give up three months of his own salary!

And as long as Peter was thrown under the bus, everyone else came out clean!

Lin Qing silently cheered for her President Liang.

But then she thought about it and grew puzzled.

The “Prisoner’s Dilemma” was such a sophisticated operations research case — how had Liang Meng applied it so effortlessly, as if pulling it from thin air?

Lin Qing herself had studied operations research for four years, and even now she’d needed a hard moment of reflection before she understood.

This President Liang at her side was not nearly as superficial and showy as she appeared.

She was concealing her true ability.

“Dragon-fruit-colored” Liang Meng was now nonchalantly scratching her head, watching out of the corner of her eye as Peter slunk out of the meeting room in defeat.

She was certain that at this very moment, Peter’s intestines were blue with regret — had he known it would come to this, wouldn’t it have been so much better to have aligned himself with her from the start?

Daiwei was even more desperate to stomp his own worn, lined old face flat and find a crack in the floor to disappear into.

But he would not bow his head so easily to a still-wet-behind-the-ears Liang Meng — he still had one final move: retreat in order to advance.

“Poor management is my responsibility.” Daiwei made a sweeping gesture of taking the blame upon himself, “admitting his mistake”: “I failed to properly discipline my subordinates. I will take responsibility and retire.”

“Retire?”

Whispers immediately broke out below.

“Daiwei is only in his fifties — he wants to retire?”

“The marketing department and public relations department can’t function without Daiwei!”

“It’s not just those two departments. The company’s shareholders — Daiwei is the one who wines and dines them all. If he leaves, the person upstairs will be fishing without bait — left grasping at nothing!”

“Hey, do you think Daiwei is doing this on purpose?”

“Clearly. He’s throwing attitude at the young President Liang.”

Liang Meng watched Daiwei in quiet stillness.

Only a single table separated them, yet it felt as though decades stood between.

Daiwei was no longer that passionate, idealistic Zhang Weimin who had once headed north in pursuit of a dream — and Liang Meng was no longer the babbling little girl who barely reached the height of that table.

It was in this moment that Liang Meng understood directly and viscerally: for a company to grow, division and reunification are inevitable. What has long been united must divide; what has long been divided must reunite.

Daiwei, leveraging his seniority and riding on his past achievements with arrogance, was using the threat of resignation to pressure Liang Meng.

The other senior executives followed in rising up together, backing Daiwei.

“Daiwei, if you’re retiring, I’m retiring too. We can go fishing together and keep each other company.”

The head of the marketing department was the first to push back from the table and stand up.

“Then I suppose I’ll take some time off too. It won’t matter if the production line sits idle for a few months.”

“Our R&D department is applying to go on a research trip to Fujian. President Liang, please approve it.”

The “Liang Xing’s army” made a sweeping and formidable show, staging a collective power play.

Lin Qing was genuinely frightened by the spectacle.

But Liang Meng was completely composed.

After letting the crowd’s uproar rise in wave after wave, she reached, unhurried, into the pocket of her rose-pink blazer and produced that thin sheet of paper.

Liang Meng held the paper up above her head, like hoisting a banner of certain victory.

“Everyone, please settle down!”

Liang Meng called out in a clear, ringing voice.

“You should all understand the full sequence of cause and effect before joining in the commotion.”

With that, Liang Meng pressed the sheet of paper flat against the conference table and gave it a decisive push along the length of the table!

“Daiwei is choosing to retire not only because of poor management of his subordinates — but also because he has been taking kickbacks from suppliers.”

Liang Meng stated this with full confidence.

“Daiwei feels, in his own conscience, that he has failed the Longquan Group. That is why he is stepping down to take responsibility. What’s on the table here is a doctored invoice — a pair of mismatched records. Everyone is welcome to take a look.”

The meeting room instantly became as silent as a movie theater. Not a single person dared to speak.

That sheet of paper, so white it seemed to glow, was like a shimmering silver screen that drew every eye toward it.

Daiwei didn’t believe it. He was the first to reach out and pick up the sheet.

Immediately, he froze in shock — and made to tear the paper apart.

“That is a photocopy.”

Liang Meng stopped him with quiet calm.

What she had received was the photocopy. The original was most likely in Jiang Han’s possession.

Daiwei let the paper fall from his hands in defeat.

Others immediately snatched it up from below, and all the senior executives crowded around, eyes wide, straining to read it.

In truth, “taking kickbacks” was something that happened at every company, regardless of size.

With something like this, the real distinction was in how skillfully it was done.

To pull it off so cleanly that no one ever noticed — that took true expertise.

But to brazenly help yourself and then flatly deny it — that was simply contemptible.

None of the senior executives present could openly side with Daiwei and share in his disgrace. They immediately flipped their stance and rushed to distance themselves:

“Oh! Come to think of it, my wife has forbidden me from fishing lately. When I think it over, I’d better hold off on retirement for now.”

“Don’t look at me! I am a person of professional integrity! How can a production line just be shut down? Every day it’s idle is money lost! I will absolutely be right here at my post, minute by minute!”

“Fine, so we won’t go to Fujian! Honestly, ‘duck dung fragrance’ oolong tea is overplayed anyway. We might as well develop other varieties.”

“The origin of ‘duck dung fragrance’ tea is Chaozhou, Guangdong.”

Liang Meng corrected the record.

She had demonstrated through action that you can slack off, but you must never be genuinely incompetent.

After three swift strokes, the senior executives had all deflated.

As it turned out, the real clowns were themselves!

Daiwei’s bluff had been called, and he had no choice but to agree to go on leave first.

As for when exactly his “retirement due to responsibility” would happen — that was left unsaid.

He was likely waiting for Liang Xing to protect him after the fact.

The “flogging of a corpse” meeting came to an end after Liang Meng “rose from the dead.”

The moment the crowd had barely stepped out of the meeting room door, a colleague came rushing up urgently with breaking news!

“President— President Liang, Daiwei! Something big has happened!”

The colleague was panting breathlessly, shaking the phone in his hand.

“Zhou— Zhou Zelong is trending!!!”

“What?”

Liang Meng glanced back at the crowd with a haughty look, tossed her head, and walked off on her own, taking Lin Qing with her.

She left everyone else behind to listen to the gossip.

From now on, any news about Zhou Zelong held absolutely no value for Liang Meng whatsoever!

Externally, she had taken all the backlash from Zhou Zelong’s fans and the scrutiny of public opinion head-on, without flinching.

Internally, the deliberate provocation from Daiwei and the rest of the senior executives had all been put in their place.

Just as she had said — how could the future of a great Longquan Group ever truly be decided by one sordid little celebrity who liked to grope people’s palms behind closed doors?

#ZhouZelongAffairDuringMarriage

#ZhouZelongWifeReportsHusbandForGroupActivity

#ZhouZelongAndHisFriends

Lin Qing scrolled through the trending topics about Zhou Zelong on her phone, and nearly burst out laughing right there in the elevator!

This was absolutely insane!

Every single person who had questioned Liang Meng would have their faces slapped raw by now!

When the mosaic-blurred images of Zhou Zelong’s group activities spread across the internet, the entire online world erupted — netizens collectively declared: “We owe President Liang of the Longquan Group an apology!”

Back in the office, Lin Qing found Liang Meng sitting alone in her chair.

The orange-red glow of the setting sun fell across her serene and tranquil face — calm, untroubled, and at peace.

Lin Qing truly wanted to reply to those netizens with one line: President Liang doesn’t need your apology!

She doesn’t care!