Chapter 4 | The Stolen Proposal
After Su Yanxi hit Send, she immediately deleted the sent-mail record.
The elevator stopped at the first floor.
She walked out of the office building, not a trace of having cried visible on her face.
Her phone vibrated once in her palm.
The nameless email account had replied.
“Received.”
Just two short words.
Su Yanxi stood beside the sidewalk, looking down as she typed.
“Before the formal presentation next week, I want to see a usable version.”
The other party replied again almost immediately.
“Don’t worry. No one will be able to trace it back to you.”
She stared at the message for several seconds.
“And don’t copy it word for word.”
“Got it.”
Su Yanxi put her phone away.
Five years ago, she had only given things a slight push.
Xu Zhiqing had lost her friends, her romance, and her reason to remain in the life she’d once known.
Five years later, Xu Zhiqing looked even harder to deal with than before.
But that was only how it looked.
As long as a person still cared, they were bound to reveal a weakness.
And Xu Zhiqing’s greatest weakness had never been Zhou Yuheng.
It was that she wanted too badly to prove she hadn’t been wrong.
The next morning, Xu Zhiqing compiled a written record of the unauthorized photography incident and handed it to her direct supervisor, Chen Jiawei.
The attachments included the meeting document number, the checkout list, the access-authorization request records, and photographs of B07 being left in the conference room.
After Chen Jiawei finished reading the report, his brows never once relaxed.
“Did Director Zhou really see her taking the pictures with his own eyes?”
“Yes.”
“Did she delete the pictures?”
“She deleted them in front of Director Zhou and also emptied Recently Deleted.”
“Then they probably weren’t leaked, right?”
Xu Zhiqing raised her eyes.
“I asked whether she had cloud syncing enabled. She refused to confirm.”
Chen Jiawei fell silent.
If they had been ordinary work documents and a coworker had taken pictures by mistake and deleted them immediately, they might have been able to issue a warning depending on the circumstances.
But this time, the contents involved unreleased client brand strategy.
If the information leaked, not only could the project be suspended, but the company would also be liable for breach of contract.
“How do you want to handle it?”
“This isn’t about how I want to handle it,” Xu Zhiqing said.
“Under the company’s information-security regulations, her access to the project materials should first be suspended. Then we need to confirm whether the pictures were backed up or sent elsewhere.”
“Zhiqing, she just joined the company.”
“So?”
“She’s still on probation. If this formally enters an investigation, she could be terminated immediately.”
“That’s a decision for HR and management.”
“I know.”
Chen Jiawei sighed.
“But the VP thinks highly of her previous work experience and is planning to have her assist you later. If this gets blown up, the VP may think we failed to train the new hire properly.”
“She isn’t an intern.”
Xu Zhiqing turned the confidentiality notice on the first page toward him.
“And this isn’t something you need to be taught before you know not to do it.”
The office fell silent for several seconds.
Chen Jiawei finally picked up the phone.
“I’ll have HR come over first.”
Half an hour later, Su Yanxi was notified to report to the small conference room.
When she entered, Chen Jiawei and the HR manager were there, as was Xu Zhiqing.
Su Yanxi’s steps faltered for a moment.
“Does Zhiqing really have to be here?”
The HR manager looked at her.
“Director Xu is the project lead and a stakeholder with responsibility for the data. Today is simply about clarifying the facts. Please sit down.”
Su Yanxi pulled out a chair.
She didn’t look at Xu Zhiqing.
“After yesterday’s meeting, did you photograph document B07?”
“Yes.”
She admitted it quickly.
“But I didn’t mean any harm. I just wanted to review the proposal at home.”
“Did you know it was confidential?”
“I only found out afterward.”
“There was a confidentiality notice on the first page.”
“I only looked at the last page at the time.”
“Why did you only photograph the last page?”
Su Yanxi paused.
“Because the last page was the strategy summary. I just wanted to understand the overall direction first.”
“Is the picture you took still on your phone?”
“I deleted it.”
“Was any form of automatic syncing or cloud backup enabled?”
“No.”
Xu Zhiqing looked at her.
Yesterday, when she had asked the same question, Su Yanxi hadn’t answered directly.
Now she denied it without hesitation.
The HR manager continued questioning her.
“The company needs you to cooperate in confirming the relevant settings.”
“Are you going to inspect my phone?”
Su Yanxi’s expression immediately turned uneasy.
“We’ll only confirm the photo-sync function. We won’t look at any of your other private content.”
“But I have a lot of pictures of my family and friends on my phone, as well as private conversations.”
“You can operate it yourself. We’ll just confirm the settings screen.”
Su Yanxi lowered her head.
“When I got home yesterday, I was so scared that I turned off my cloud album.”
Xu Zhiqing’s gaze darkened.
“You just said it wasn’t enabled.”
“I mean it isn’t enabled now.”
“What about when you took the picture yesterday?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You configured your phone’s syncing function yourself. How could you not remember?”
“I rarely use the cloud album.”
Su Yanxi lifted her head, her eyes gradually reddening.
“I already admitted I took the picture, and I deleted it right there. Why do you have to interrogate me like I’m a criminal?”
The HR manager reminded her, “Ms. Su, please answer the question.”
“I did answer.”
She drew in a breath.
“I don’t know whether it synced at the time. Even if it did, I didn’t open it after I got home, and I didn’t send the picture to anyone.”
“Can you log in to your cloud album so we can check?”
Su Yanxi’s fingers clenched tightly around the hem of her skirt.
“I forgot my password.”
One excuse followed another.
Every one of them sounded possible.
Put together, they amounted to nothing but deliberate concealment.
Chen Jiawei’s expression also grew grim.
“Yanxi, the company only needs to confirm that the data wasn’t leaked. The less cooperative you are, the more serious this will become.”
“I’m not being uncooperative.”
Tears slipped down her face.
“I just didn’t expect one mistake on my first day at work to mean handing over all my privacy.”
A knock suddenly sounded outside the conference room.
An assistant pushed open the door.
“Director Chen, Director Zhou from Yaocheng is here.”
Chen Jiawei froze.
“Now?”
“He says it’s about what happened yesterday.”
The moment the assistant finished speaking, Zhou Yuheng appeared in the doorway.
He hadn’t brought any other team members today. Only his assistant followed behind him.
“Sorry for coming over without notice.”
He placed a document on the table.
“This is my written statement about yesterday’s incident.”
Su Yanxi’s face grew even paler.
“You actually wrote a statement?”
“This involves our company’s unreleased information.”
Zhou Yuheng pulled out an empty chair and sat down.
“I have a responsibility to cooperate with the investigation.”
The HR manager opened the document.
It clearly recorded the time Zhou Yuheng entered the conference room, what he saw, and the complete process of asking Su Yanxi to delete the pictures.
“Director Zhou, did you personally confirm that the picture was removed from Recently Deleted?”
“Yes.”
“Did you confirm the cloud backup at the time?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Zhou Yuheng glanced at Xu Zhiqing.
“After Director Xu returned, she asked about it, but Ms. Su refused to cooperate.”
Su Yanxi suddenly let out a laugh.
Tears still clung to her face, but the smile was filled with humiliation.
“So you’ve all decided that I sent the data out?”
“No one said that,” the HR manager replied.
“We’re confirming the facts.”
“You’re not confirming anything.”
Su Yanxi looked at Xu Zhiqing.
“You just believe her.”
“I wrote this statement,” Zhou Yuheng said.
“It has nothing to do with her.”
“How could it have nothing to do with her?”
Su Yanxi turned toward him.
“You could have chosen not to report it yesterday. The picture had already been deleted, and there was no loss. But you insisted on telling her.”
“Because she’s the project lead.”
“That reason again.”
She roughly wiped away her tears.
“Zhou Yuheng, can you honestly say you don’t have any ulterior motives where she’s concerned?”
The conference room fell instantly silent.
Chen Jiawei hadn’t expected her to bring up a personal relationship during a company investigation.
The HR manager frowned.
“Ms. Su, we’re discussing a data-security issue.”
“I’m just trying to prove that this statement isn’t objective.”
Su Yanxi looked at Zhou Yuheng.
“He and Xu Zhiqing used to date. He feels guilty about what happened five years ago, so no matter what Xu Zhiqing says, he’ll take her side.”
Chen Jiawei stared at Xu Zhiqing in shock.
Xu Zhiqing didn’t explain.
She had known from the beginning that Su Yanxi would drag the past into this.
Whenever she couldn’t answer the question in front of her, Su Yanxi would drag everyone’s attention into another dispute.
“Director Zhou, is the relationship Ms. Su described accurate?” the HR manager asked.
“Yes.”
Zhou Yuheng didn’t deny it.
“Director Xu and I dated five years ago.”
Chen Jiawei’s expression became complicated.
“And now you two…”
“Now we only have a professional relationship,” Xu Zhiqing answered.
“Before the client changed project leads, I didn’t know it was him. He didn’t know I was in charge of this project, either.”
“But he specifically asked you to give the presentation yesterday,” Su Yanxi immediately said.
“And today he came all the way here to testify for you. You call that only a professional relationship?”
“He asked her to present because she understands the research materials best.”
Zhou Yuheng looked at her.
“I submitted my statement because I personally witnessed you photographing the document.”
His tone was calm, without the slightest opening.
“If you believe my personal relationship makes me unfit to act as a witness, the company can review the surveillance footage outside the conference room to confirm when I entered and left. It can also check whether your fingerprints are on the document.”
Su Yanxi opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out.
“As for my past with Director Xu…”
Zhou Yuheng paused.
“If the company believes it could affect the project, I can voluntarily request recusal and have another manager take over.”
Xu Zhiqing looked at him.
Yaocheng was the highest decision-maker for this brand project.
If Zhou Yuheng withdrew, it meant he was voluntarily giving up the opportunity to continue dealing with her.
It was also the clearest way to prove that the two of them weren’t collaborating privately.
Su Yanxi clearly hadn’t expected him to answer that way.
“You’re willing to withdraw from the project just to prove she did nothing wrong?”
“I’m eliminating the doubt you raised.”
“What’s the difference?”
“The difference is that no one needs to take responsibility for your photographing the document.”
Zhou Yuheng shifted his gaze back to the HR manager.
“Yaocheng’s position is clear. We require confirmation of whether the data was leaked. As for how your company handles its employee, we respect your internal policies.”
The HR manager nodded.
“Understood.”
Su Yanxi remained in her seat, her face flushing red and then paling white.
She had originally wanted to prove that Zhou Yuheng’s statement was motivated by personal feelings.
Instead, she had made him offer to withdraw from the project.
If he really withdrew, Xu Zhiqing would no longer have to face any conflict of interest.
“Until the confirmation is complete, the company will suspend your access to this project,” the HR manager said, pushing the investigation record in front of Su Yanxi.
“Please sign it first. Also, provide the cloud album’s sync records before the end of the workday. If you can’t provide them, the company will evaluate the appropriate disciplinary action based on the evidence currently available.”
Su Yanxi lowered her head and looked at the document.
“What if I don’t sign?”
“We’ll note that you refused to sign.”
“So no matter what I do, you’ve already decided to believe her.”
Xu Zhiqing finally spoke.
“No one is asking you to believe me.”
Su Yanxi jerked her head up.
“We’re only asking you to prove that the picture wasn’t leaked.”
“How am I supposed to prove something that never happened?”
“Log in to your cloud album.”
“I told you I forgot my password!”
“Then request a reset.”
Su Yanxi glared at her.
“You just refuse to let this go.”
“To you, confirming whether a single picture was backed up means I refuse to let this go?”
Xu Zhiqing’s voice didn’t rise.
“Then why didn’t you ask me before taking the picture?”
Su Yanxi didn’t answer.
Several seconds later, she picked up the pen on the table and signed her name at the end of the record.
The pen nearly tore through the paper.
“I’ll provide the records.”
She stood.
“Can I leave now?”
The HR manager nodded.
“Don’t enter the project area for the time being, and don’t ask other coworkers about any related information.”
Su Yanxi grabbed her bag and hurried out of the conference room.
The moment the door closed, Chen Jiawei let out a long breath.
“So all three of you knew each other before?”
“That has nothing to do with the investigation.”
Xu Zhiqing gathered the materials.
Chen Jiawei had been about to ask something else, but after seeing her expression, he ultimately said nothing.
Zhou Yuheng stood as well.
“I’ll submit my request for recusal to the company today.”
“No need,” Xu Zhiqing said.
He looked at her.
“Aren’t you worried other people will question it?”
“If you have to withdraw just because we dated five years ago, then she’s already achieved her goal.”
“You think she brought it up on purpose because she wants me off the project?”
“She wants everyone to suspect that I received special treatment.”
Xu Zhiqing returned the documents to the folder in order.
“If you withdraw now, people will only think she was right.”
Zhou Yuheng was silent for a moment.
“Then you want me to stay?”
Xu Zhiqing’s movements paused for an instant.
“I want you to decide based on your professional judgment.”
She didn’t answer the question he really wanted to ask.
Zhou Yuheng didn’t press her further.
“Okay,” he said.
“I won’t withdraw.”
At four that afternoon, Su Yanxi emailed HR a screenshot of her cloud album.
The screenshot showed that automatic syncing had been turned off.
There was no picture of B07 in the album, either.
But it only showed the status at that moment.
It couldn’t prove that the picture had never synced, much less that it hadn’t been sent anywhere.
HR requested a complete activity log.
Su Yanxi replied that the system couldn’t display one.
The matter temporarily reached an impasse.
Before the end of the workday, Xu Zhiqing received a call from a coworker in the Research Department.
“Zhiqing, do you have a minute to check your email?”
The caller sounded anxious.
“What happened?”
“The research platform we worked with just forwarded an email to me.”
Xu Zhiqing opened her computer.
A forwarded email was already sitting in her inbox.
The sender was an unfamiliar account.
The subject line contained only one sentence.
“Your company’s research data appears to be fabricated.”
Xu Zhiqing opened the email.
It accused her of falsifying the questionnaire sample size, respondent sources, and exclusion criteria, and claimed that the sender would soon expose everything to the client and industry media.
Every accusation was extremely specific.
Specific enough that only someone who had seen the complete research framework could have known the details.
A screenshot was attached at the end of the email.
It showed the last page of B07.
Xu Zhiqing enlarged the image.
It wasn’t the original page exported from the presentation file.
The edge of the paper was slightly crooked.
A small part of the conference table was visible in the lower-right corner.
It was the picture Su Yanxi had taken yesterday.
Xu Zhiqing immediately picked up her phone, preparing to notify HR.
But a company-wide announcement appeared on the screen first.
“Due to an anonymous report alleging suspected falsification and leakage of project data, Xu Zhiqing’s project-management authority is suspended effective immediately. Further notice will be issued upon completion of the internal investigation.”
The announcement hadn’t been sent to the managers’ group.
It had been sent to the entire project team.
Email alerts began ringing throughout the office.
The coworkers who had been talking gradually fell silent.
One gaze after another landed on Xu Zhiqing.
Across several desks, Su Yanxi also raised her head.
She looked at Xu Zhiqing.
First, shock crossed her face.
Then she appeared utterly incredulous.
As if she had only just found out what had happened herself.
The next second, she stood and walked toward Xu Zhiqing of her own accord.
“Zhiqing,” she asked, her face full of concern.
“Did you offend someone?”