181: Chapter 181 Boss, are you alright?

Jack sat in that somewhat bulky electric wheelchair. Due to the loss of one leg and one arm, his center of gravity tilted slightly to one side, yet his back remained stiffly straight.

He reached out with his only remaining right hand and fished a frayed sticky note out of the black storage bag by the wheelchair's armrest.

The movement was slow but extremely steady.

"This is the contact information for your former boss, Wang Changlong, the founder of Shanghai Changlong Technology."

Jack's voice had no inflection; it sounded like he was reading an emotionless instruction manual.

"After that acquisition, he took a sum of money and wanted to start a second business in the field of large AI models.

Unfortunately, the environment has changed now.

All the big tech companies are burning money, and his meager savings were thrown in without even making a splash. Currently, the company cannot pay salaries and is on the verge of bankruptcy liquidation.

He hides in a rented apartment every day, answering calls from debt collection agencies. His life is even more miserable than when you resigned."

Lin Zhou took the note, his fingertips gently rubbing the slightly messy handwriting on it.

Wang Changlong.

This name was already a bit blurry in his memory. The only things that remained were a can of ice-cold cola the other man had handed him while they were working overtime in the office, and the look of helplessness mixed with a hint of relief in his back when the company was acquired by the state fund.

"You can even dig up such old history, Jack. Your current state makes me suspect whether you've already installed a backdoor in my system."

Lin Zhou put down the note, leaned back in his chair, and tapped his fingertips on the desk a few times.

Jack did not deny it; his single eye simply met Lin Zhou's with calm.

"This is the basic standard of intelligence work.

Since I am to serve you, understanding your past is the first step in building future security.

Wang Changlong holds the initial architecture of that algorithm. It is his life's work and his final trump card.

If you personally intervene, the success rate of this matter is one hundred percent."

Lin Zhou smiled but said nothing.

He picked up the encrypted phone on his desk and dialed the number on the note.

At this very moment, in a remote, old office building in the Jing'an District of Shanghai, the air was filled with the smell of moldy cardboard boxes and cheap instant coffee.

Wang Changlong was sitting dejectedly at a dusty workstation. His hair was as messy as a clump of weeds, and the collar of the shirt he was wearing had turned yellow.

On his desk, dozens of missed call notifications were flashing incessantly, most marked as "Sales" or "Insurance." He knew those were disguises used by debt collection agencies.

When the phone rang again, he instinctively wanted to decline it, but when he saw the caller ID indicated Beijing and there were no markings, he hesitated.

"Hello, who is this?"

Wang Changlong's voice was extremely hoarse, as if his throat were filled with sand.

"Manager Wang, long time no see.

I heard you haven't been doing so well in Jing'an District lately. You haven't paid your electricity bill yet, have you?"

The voice on the other end of the line was very soft, yet carried an indescribable sense of composure and teasing.

Wang Changlong was stunned.

This voice was too familiar—familiar enough to make him instantly recall those busy afternoons in the cubicles.

But he still couldn't believe it.

After all, the young man who once worked under him now had his own segments on the News Broadcast and had even established a country in that distant desert.

"Lin... Lin Zhou?"

Wang Changlong's voice was filled with uncertainty. Due to nervousness, his palms had already broken out in cold sweat.

Ever since news of Lin Zhou establishing a country in Africa reached the country, his social media feed had been flooded with various reports.

It wasn't that Wang Changlong hadn't considered asking Lin Zhou for help, even if just to borrow some money to tide him over.

But thinking of his current down-and-out state, and then having to beg a genius he had once "delayed," his pathetic pride felt like it was being burned by fire.

So he chose silence, not even daring to mention at alumni reunions that he had once been Lin Zhou's boss.

"It's me.

Manager Wang, your company hasn't gone under yet; it seems you really are quite resilient."

Lin Zhou paused on the phone, his tone becoming a bit more formal.

"I'm going to Shanghai tomorrow. Are you interested in finding a place to have some tea?

If you haven't been blocked at the door by those debt collectors yet."

Wang Changlong's hand holding the phone trembled slightly. He looked at the pile of unopened moving boxes on his desk and smiled self-deprecatingly.

"Leader Lin, with your status, aren't you afraid of dirtying your feet by meeting someone like me, who's stuck in the mud, for tea?

I'm about to hand back the keys to my company's front door."

"Stop with this nonsense.

Tomorrow at two in the afternoon, at that coffee shop downstairs from your company that we used to go to.

If it's closed, find another place and send me the location.

That's all."

Lin Zhou didn't give him a chance to refuse and hung up the phone directly.

The office returned to silence. Lin Zhou turned his head to look at Jack and pointed at the phone.

"Help me book a flight to Shanghai. Don't use diplomatic channels; go through the private passage.

I want to go meet this old acquaintance."

Jack maneuvered his wheelchair back a step and lightly brushed his forehead with his single arm—a non-standard, yet exceptionally forceful salute.

"The flight path has already been applied for, My Lord.

Dean Qin has also received the news. She suggests you bring two more bodyguards this time; after all, debt collection agencies in Shanghai can sometimes be even more troublesome than guerrillas in Sudan."

Lin Zhou laughed out loud.

He stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.

The next afternoon, Shanghai.

It was raining continuously, and the entire city was shrouded in a layer of gray mist.

Draped in a long black trench coat, Lin Zhou, accompanied by He Jun and two plainclothes guards, pushed open the door to the old coffee shop located deep in the alley.

The heating in the room was insufficient, and the music from the vinyl record player in the corner was intermittent.

Wang Changlong was sitting by the window with a cup of cold latte in front of him.

He had changed into a suit that looked cleaner, but because it had shrunk and didn't fit, the cuffs were pulled up above his wrists, making him look both ridiculous and servile.

Seeing Lin Zhou push the door open, Wang Changlong wanted to stand up, but because he had been sitting for too long, his legs were numb. His body stumbled, and he nearly knocked over the table.

Lin Zhou walked forward and steadily held his shoulders.

"Manager Wang, how has it only been a few years, and your back has already collapsed like this?"

Lin Zhou's voice was not loud, but it sounded exceptionally clear in the narrow coffee shop.

Wang Changlong looked at the young man in front of him.

The black-rimmed glasses were still the same style as back then, but the look behind the lenses had completely lost the rawness of those years.

It was a calmness that only comes after experiencing blood and fire and holding the power of life and death over millions.

"Lin Zhou... No, Leader Lin, why go to all this trouble?

To watch me make a fool of myself?"

Wang Changlong smiled bitterly, his hands and feet fidgeting, not knowing where to put them.

"Sit down.

I'm here to buy something."

Lin Zhou pulled over a chair, sat down, and got straight to the point.

"The code you sold to that company back then—you should have the complete, original master copy, right?

The first version with the adaptive logic engine.

I want to buy it."

The muscles on Wang Changlong's face twitched. He looked surprised, but then returned to a deathly stillness.

"That code... is already outdated, Lin Zhou.

And the copyright isn't in my hands now; it belongs to the state fund."

Lin Zhou tapped his slender fingers on the table, making a crisp sound.

"I don't care about the copyright, and I don't intend to use it to go public and make money domestically.

What I want is the original logical framework of thought.

Manager Wang, name your price.

This price should be enough to fill all the holes in your company and allow you to buy a big house in Xuhui District to retire in for the rest of your life."

Wang Changlong fell silent.

He looked at the endless stream of people outside the window, his breathing becoming heavy.

He hadn't expected that the technology he once thought was completely useless would become his lifeline today.