Suspicion

As usual, the triple plea! Please vote, recommend, and add to your favorites!

After retrieving the car, He Jianni first drove Yang Tang’s family back to Mist University, then returned to her own home.

Anyone who’s spent over ten hours on the train would feel a weary lethargy upon stepping through their door, so after a brief wash, Yang Tang and his parents retreated to their rooms to catch up on sleep.

When Yang Tang awoke, it was already noon. His father was on the phone, reporting his return to the department chair, while his mother busied herself in the kitchen. A gentle warmth blossomed in Yang Tang’s heart. He took his laptop from the suitcase, plugged it in, connected to the internet, set up a few proxy layers as usual, and began linking to an overseas server to receive data from Wu Yaxi’s packet-sniffer program.

Indeed, in less than 24 hours, over a dozen sets of usernames and passwords had amassed on the server.

Yang Tang copied the credentials, altered the server logs as routine, slipped back into the domestic network, and started studying the patterns in Wu’s family passwords.

After some comparison, Yang Tang found that among the thirteen sets of usernames and passwords, four belonged to Wu Yaxi’s grandson. The rest were either accounts Wu Yaxi himself had logged into or ones his daughter-in-law had borrowed to play online card games or farming.

Though the accounts varied, the passwords followed three distinct patterns. The first: Wu Yaxi’s birth year in four digits plus four letters in reverse order—like 1949rr, where 'r' is the ninth letter from the end of the alphabet. The second: four letters in order followed by Wu Yaxi’s birthdate as four digits, such as b1126. The third: alternating numbers and letters.

In short, once you grasp the patterns, guessing his other passwords was no challenge.

Of course, Wu Yaxi’s login password for the Criminal Investigation Bureau’s daily database used the number 1972, followed by the letter 'b'. Yang Tang, following the previous logic, deduced that 1972 was the year Wu Yaxi officially started working, and the subsequent letter followed a sequential order.

With a firm grasp of Wu Yaxi’s password habits, Yang Tang ate lunch and, at the start of the afternoon shift, accessed the Shenhai Criminal Investigation Bureau’s database remotely through several proxy layers.

It took only two tries for Yang Tang to use Wu Yaxi’s credentials to legally log into the case database.

The database had a search function, but Yang Tang didn’t search for his own name. He merely searched for the surname “Yang” and limited the cases to within the past year. Instantly, more than two hundred records appeared.

Yang Tang scanned through, swiftly finding the entry he sought.

“So I am in here.”

He resisted the urge to click the entry, knowing that any such action would leave a record in the logs—“Wu Yaxi viewed Yang Tang’s case”—easily exposing himself.

But Yang Tang soon noticed that Wu Yaxi’s permissions in the database were quite high. An idea struck him: he directly implanted a new packet-sniffer program in the database backend. Whenever any case entries were modified, the sniffer would copy the changed content. If the modified case pertained to the surname “Liu,” then all “Liu” cases from the past six months would be bundled and sent out, encrypted with 5-level security. In the process, all “Yang” cases from the same period would be separately packaged and transmitted to a set of overseas servers, while “Liu” and other surnames would go to another server group.

All was done without a trace. Yang Tang carefully modified the database logs again and quietly logged out.

“The database’s log deletion is scheduled for tomorrow. If nothing slips through by then, the sniffer program may remain undetected for a long time.”

Yang Tang muttered to himself, determined to resist the dangerous urge to view his case details right away.

“I’ll wait till tomorrow when everything’s settled.”

Just as he was feeling a bit restless, He Jianni called.

“Hello, Tang Tang?”

“It’s me.”

“My mom ran into some trouble in America. I’ll probably need to fly there in the next couple of days.”

Yang Tang rolled his eyes at the news, thinking, “Your mom has problems, you’re flying to America—why are you calling me?” But he said, “Want me to drive you to the airport?”

“No need. Just behave yourself, aim for a good score in the college entrance exam. When I get back from America, I’ll bring you a gift!”

Yang Tang: “...”

“Tang Tang, why aren’t you saying anything?”

“What do you want me to say? Anyway, take care of yourself while you’re away, Jianni.”

“I understand. Thanks!”

After hanging up, Yang Tang originally planned to study. But then he realized that the next mock exam was approaching, and with Jianni gone, he’d have no car for school runs, which would be inconvenient. So he went out and bought a little electric scooter, and while he was at it, opened two new bank accounts, each with half a million deposited, planning to give them to his parents.

Back home, before he could present the bank cards as treasures, Yang Jixue’s face was dark as he said, “That homeroom teacher of yours called again. She actually threatened me, saying if you don’t show up at school tomorrow, you might as well not bother coming ever again. Hmph!”

“Then I’ll go tomorrow,” Yang Tang thought, planning to drop by the school first, then find Wu Lie and deal with Zhang Jun’s gang to restore peace. “Dad, Mom, these are cards for you.”

Yang Jixue and Yang’s mother took the cards in confusion, asking, “What are these?”

“They’re regular bank cards. The passwords are my birthday, six digits, reversed,” Yang Tang explained. “Each card has half a million. If you ever need to buy something or have an emergency, just use the money inside.”

But both parents protested, insisting on returning the cards. After much persuasion, they kept one, and Yang Tang ended up with the other.

Early the next morning, at the home of Song Chushi, the city’s Director of Education—

“Grandpa, why are you up so early again? Don’t tell me you’re practicing those calligraphic lines?”

An elderly man, alert and sharp-eyed, sat at the head of the hall dressed in simple linen clothes. He glanced at the sleepy Song Chushi and answered serenely, “Yes, I wrote them several times again. The more I write, the more I like them. ‘When dwelling high in the halls, worry for the people; when far on the rivers and lakes, worry for the ruler. Advance and worry, retreat and worry.’ Such words are truly excellent!”

Song Chushi was bemused, “Grandpa, no matter how good, they can’t be eaten for breakfast, can they?”

The old man glared, “What do you know? Must you provoke me with nonsense? Even Old Li, when he saw the whole passage, praised it three times. Tell me, can it be breakfast?”

“Which Old Li?” Song Chushi’s eyes widened.

“Who else but my former superior,” the old man replied, then switched topics. “I heard the exam graders even deliberately docked a point from the student who wrote this passage? Claiming it was for ‘motivation’?”

Song Chushi hesitated, “Yes, that seems to have happened.”

“Nonsense!” The old man’s eyes blazed. “What motivation? A student who can write such an essay should be rewarded. And his calligraphy is quite excellent. I like him—when can you invite him here? I want to share a drink with him!”

“Grandpa, let’s skip the wine. He’s still a student, preparing for the entrance exam!” Song Chushi had never dared tell his grandfather that Yang Tang wasn’t actually at school. “Besides, this is the busiest season for exam prep—maybe it’s best to—”

“Maybe, my foot!” The old man, worn out by evasions, grew angry. “Don’t think I don’t know—you’re dismissing him because his overall grades aren’t remarkable! But let me tell you, with writing skills like Yang’s, if someone recommends him, he could easily get into the Royal Academy of Literature regardless of his entrance exam scores!”

“What?” Song Chushi was startled. “But who would recommend him? It wouldn’t be you, would it?”

“Me? I’m not qualified,” the old man said, slow and resolute. “But, well, some things are just fate!”

Song Chushi quickly changed his tone, “Then—I’ll look for a chance to invite young Yang over for a meal?”

Yang Tang, leisurely riding his electric scooter, arrived at school. Before he could enter the classroom, Cen Li intercepted him and led him into her office.

Seated behind her desk, Cen Li said with biting sarcasm, “Yang Tang, you really are a rare guest. It’s been nearly a month since you last showed up! So, tell me—what’s the story with your mock exam scores?”

“What story?” Yang Tang replied, baffled. “Ms. Cen, I still don’t know my mock exam results. I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t? So it’s my fault then?” Cen Li said, pulling a stack of test papers from her drawer and slapping them onto the desk. “Take a look for yourself!”

Yang Tang wasted no words, picking up the stack and flipping through: Chinese, 118; Math, 99; History, 102; English, 121; French, 91. Total: 531.

Truth be told, Yang Tang’s individual subject scores weren’t remarkable, but his consistency meant each hovered around one hundred, and the total surpassed the threshold for top-tier universities in the mock exam.

Having been Yang Tang’s homeroom teacher for nearly three years, Cen Li knew him well. Her first reaction was disbelief; her second was suspicion of cheating. Yet the mock exam was held in the chemistry building, and in his exam room, he was the only one scoring above five hundred—no one to copy from.

“Did you see these mock exam questions beforehand?” Cen Li asked, voicing her most plausible suspicion. After all, mock exams weren’t as tightly controlled as the national exam; seeing the questions in advance wasn’t unheard of.

Yang Tang saw through her wild conjectures and didn’t bother explaining. “Ms. Cen, if you think I cheated, please present your evidence. If you have none, don’t sling mud. No matter how well we know each other, I’ll still sue you for slander and misleading students!”

Cen Li’s face flushed with embarrassment, turning ashen. “Don’t think you can be arrogant just because I lack evidence. You’re giving up on yourself—let’s see how you manage in the college entrance exam!”

“Thank you for your concern, Ms. Cen. I’ll handle the entrance exam just fine.”

“You—” Cen Li was about to launch into another tirade when her phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, she hurriedly answered with utmost respect, “Hello, Director Song? Yes, yes. Who are you looking for? Yang Tang? Oh, he’s here—he’s here...”