The identity of the donor was vaguely covered by the exposer as a "benevolent entrepreneur," but it couldn't be hidden under the inevitable wave of doxxing.

Just on the third day after Feng Liang's jump, less than fifty hours since the incident occurred, Wang Zhuo’s identity was uncovered by some enthusiastic netizens or busybodies.

At the scene, quite a few people had filmed videos or taken photos of Wang Zhuo, and this content was successively uploaded online. Although popular communities like Goupu Net or Tianya Net received notifications and refused to authenticate any posts related to the incident, smaller community forums or video sites paid them no mind, and thus Wang Zhuo’s true face reappeared online once more.

Fortunately, he was only one focal point of the event. Besides him, the Feng Liang case itself drew public attention, as did the first and second trial judges in the Feng Liang case, and that beaten-up fellow who urged Feng Liang not to hesitate and just jump—all of them became targets. Following this, a massive, nationwide discussion on morality roared back into full swing.

To avoid gaining further notoriety, Wang Zhuo had no choice but to spend some money and hire a "Wumao Brigade" to help him manage the fallout.

Don't underestimate the power of the Wumao Brigade; they often produce unexpectedly effective results. Creating an eye-catching original post cost only fifty yuan, reposting it to a relatively popular forum cost five yuan, and a simple bump post cost fifty cents. Wang Zhuo spent a mere ten thousand yuan and successfully diverted public attention away from himself and onto the man who got beaten up.

By all logic, the identity of the "benevolent entrepreneur" should have attracted widespread scrutiny. Furthermore, Wang Zhuo’s car was no secret; with the right methods, uncovering the purchase channel and the owner's identity wouldn't be difficult. Yet, under the guidance of the paid internet commentators, netizens felt it was somehow immoral to expose the entrepreneur's identity. The urgent priority, they decided, was to criticize those who revealed their ugly side during this incident.

The ancients had the tactic of diverting disaster eastward; today, Wang Zhuo emulated this by orchestrating an "attention diversion eastward." To his surprise, this maneuver proved genuinely effective. It seemed the power of the online water army, represented by the Wumao Brigade, truly could not be underestimated.

"Director Wang did well."

"The 200,000 was donated by Director Wang; I saw it with my own eyes."

"Boss Wang taking Feng Liang on as a subordinate—good deeds really do get rewarded. Cheers to you, man!"

"Let's form a group to help old ladies! Just in case we get extorted by the old lady's son or grandson, we can become Director Wang's underlings!"

"Grouping up +1! Anyone else going to help old ladies?"

Wang Zhuo's fan club had been running on pure adrenaline these past few days, their atmosphere incredibly fervent. However, they behaved with remarkable orderliness, not capitalizing excessively on this incident. This was because Wang Zhuo had specifically communicated with several high-ranking members of the fan club regarding the matter, stating he didn't want the situation to spiral out of control, and he received firm assurances of their unwavering stance from the leadership.

...

Lü Bingwen had been having a thoroughly unpleasant few days.

He possessed a naturally flamboyant personality. Seeing a fool jump off a bridge, he casually uttered a few words, unexpectedly stumbling into catastrophic trouble.

On the spot, Wang Zhuo punched him until his face was covered in blood. He was made into a stepping stone for someone else to show off their prowess under the eyes of the crowd. Then, he called for backup through his connections, hoping to give Wang Zhuo a "warm" welcome in return. Unexpectedly, after his contacts looked into the other party’s identity, they backed down before even showing up.

"Wenzi, if you take my advice, you should just consider this beating a lesson learned for free," the influential man pleaded earnestly. "The one who hit you is practically a king. Forget you—he even dared to beat the Chief of the Public Security Bureau and walked away without consequence. The difference in strength between us and him is like a chicken wing against a tiger's leg."

Lü Bingwen knew that Jiangzhou was a place where hidden talents abounded, and there were countless people he couldn't afford to offend. But he couldn't swallow this insult! Damn it, he didn't know which scoundrel was so bored to record the scene of him getting beaten and upload it to a video site. Wasn't that too much public humiliation?

Just as he was so angry he couldn't eat or sleep, those videos, for some unknown reason, all vanished. This struck him as very strange, but a friend soon gave him a hint.

"Bingwen, I bet Wang Zhuo definitely had someone take those videos down. He doesn't want to be exposed online."

Lü Bingwen considered it and agreed that it must be the case. He had learned a lot about Wang Zhuo over the past two days and knew the man had the capability and the motive to pull it off.

The head of a listed conglomerate, a favored confidant of regional governors, the direct fuse for the Huihai case, a formidable figure who dared to assault police and seize a gun on the street… Lü Bingwen finally realized that it was wiser to keep his head down and behave himself. Making an enemy of such a person was equivalent to an old man courting death.

He intended to lie low for a while, but the netizens wouldn't let him off the hook. Once someone managed to trace his license plate from the few videos circulating online, his name, age, ethnicity, origin, education, employment status, address, and a flood of other personal information was exposed like a bursting dam.

Doxxing was incredibly powerful. The netizens couldn't touch Wang Zhuo, and the judges in the Feng Liang case were proving difficult; they could certainly pick on Lü Bingwen, especially since they had so much pent-up emotion needing an outlet. With Wang Zhuo a dead end and the judges proving tough, Lü Bingwen was all they had left.

"See how Lü's father and son know how to make money."

"Lü Jinjiang abusing his power; Lü Bingwen benefiting from his father's status."

"Lü Jinjiang, a tick in the education system; Lü Bingwen, the descendant of a vampire."

"Education Bureau Chief Lü Jinjiang keeping a mistress among female university students—pictures and truth!"

Overnight, Lü Bingwen and his father, Lü Jinjiang, suddenly became the focus of news media attention. Lü Bingwen panicked when he heard the news. But when he called his father, Lü Jinjiang, to arrange a meeting to discuss countermeasures, Lü Jinjiang’s phone was turned off.

Lü Bingwen was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, unsure what to do. He was completely unaware that just ten minutes before his call, Lü Bingwen had been escorted out of the Education Commission building by several mysteriously identified individuals. The stated reason was temporary protective custody, but every soul on Earth understood it was isolation for review.

Against the power of the internet, a small flaw can often become the fuse for a long-hidden explosive charge. Following the bureau chiefs famous for their corruption diaries, hotel liaisons, and exorbitant cigarette bills, Director Lü was now set to etch his name onto that infamous list...

Jiangzhou Municipal Party Committee, Secretary's Office.

Qin Xue made time every day to browse the internet, much like watching the nightly national news broadcast. He checked several news websites to keep abreast of current affairs.

In recent days, the hottest news online was undoubtedly the aftermath of the Feng Liang case. Unlike the Peng Yu case, the Feng Liang case only entered the public eye after the final verdict. From the perspective of a provincial-level leader, he knew the case hadn't been ignored previously; rather, various local systems had kept it under wraps.

If Feng Liang had chosen his hometown instead of Jiangzhou as the location for his suicide, perhaps the whole affair would have simply faded away.

His gaze fell upon a section in the special report on the Feng Liang case, and he muttered to himself with a mix of amusement and exasperation, "This Wang Zhuo really knows how to stir things up."

This section detailed the news about Lü Bingwen’s disappearance and likely detention by disciplinary inspection departments. In fact, Qin Xue himself had personally overseen this matter. The "Acting" title had just been dropped from his position, and a scandal erupted right under his nose—it was practically an intentional slight against him.

The phenomenon of grassroots citizens taking down officials via the internet was already commonplace. Many officials had learned preventative measures, and there were actually many more cases where officials managed to turn a crisis into a safe harbor through public relations, though the public remained unaware.

The Lü Jinjiang affair was the greatest victory netizens had achieved in over a year, thus creating a considerable sensational effect. Qin Xue felt a bit embarrassed by this incident, but it wasn't causing him undue stress.

However, some officials in Jiangnan Province were now incredibly busy. The Feng Liang case was almost a carbon copy of the Peng Yu case: a gourd judge handing down a gourd verdict. If netizens refused to let the matter die down, it would certainly give some people headaches.

After some consideration, Qin Xue decided he should meet with Wang Zhuo to offer some guidance on certain matters. He knew that some people in Jiangnan Province could act with outright recklessness. If Wang Zhuo inadvertently trod on their interests and they lured him into a trap or similar scheme, it would turn into a huge joke.

...

Wang Zhuo was unaware that he had inadvertently caused Qin Xue a minor headache, but even if he knew, he would probably feel the headache was well-earned—how else could a cancer in the education system be rooted out?

It was already the beginning of August, and Jiangzhou was scorching hot like a massive furnace, which the northern native Wang Zhuo found hard to adapt to. He could only minimize his time outdoors to escape the heat.

One day, while eating iced watermelon, bare-chested and video-chatting with Gan Lin, and simultaneously texting Kuang Yingying overseas, he was pleasantly interrupted by a call from Sun Donghao.

He casually tapped to answer and asked, "Haizi, what's up?"

Sun Donghao got straight to the point: "Boss, do you know Ji Qiong's brother?"

Having made money following Wang Zhuo a few times, Sun Donghao had started calling him "Boss"; sometimes he used terms like "Chief" or "Leader." Wang Zhuo let him call him whatever he wanted.

"I know him, yeah. Why?" Wang Zhuo found it strange that Haizi would suddenly bring up that fellow.

"I'm at the Jiangzhou High-Speed Rail Station. Just now on the platform, I saw him being forcibly taken away by a group of people," Sun Donghao reported. "They were in plainclothes—I don't know what their deal was. Ji Qiong's brother even resisted and got a good beating."

What situation? Wang Zhuo was quite surprised and quickly asked, "Can you keep up with them?"

Sun Donghao hesitated: "I can, but..."

Wang Zhuo immediately cut him off, rushing out, "If you can, hurry up and follow! Find out what's going on, and then call me back!"