54: Chapter 57: Impeccable Data, Su Nianwei's Setback

The audit team had been working continuously for two days in a small conference room on the second floor of the Administrative Building at No. 19 Middle School.

The table was piled high with printed financial vouchers and bank statements, and three Excel spreadsheets were open on the iPad in front of Director Su Nianwei.

The younger auditor, Xiao Zhou, rubbed his sore eyes and muttered to his colleague, Old Zhao.

"Brother Zhao, this is the cleanest set of books I've ever seen since I started in this industry."

Old Zhao pushed up his glasses and flipped through the vouchers in his hand.

"It's more than just clean. From the outflow of funds to the inflow, every single transfer has a complete record of messages, every node has corresponding tax filings, and even the exchange rate differences have original exchange vouchers."

Xiao Zhou lowered his voice.

"Director Su has been investigating for two days, and she hasn't even found a cent of discrepancy. Isn't that strange?"

Old Zhao shook his head and didn't reply.

He had been an auditor for fifteen years and had investigated over a hundred companies and institutions. Most cases involved finding flaws in the gaps between the bank statements and the vouchers.

A missing invoice, an unexplained transfer, or a node on the timeline that didn't match up.

There were always clues to be found.

But this time, there wasn't a single crack.

Director Su Nianwei sat at the other end of the table, her fingers sliding rapidly across the data on her iPad screen.

She had pulled all the donation records for the New Far East Foundation in China over the past year—seven transactions in total, and all the recipients were primary and secondary schools within the education system.

Each transaction had a complete donation agreement and notarization certificate.

The tax filing records and customs exchange settlement records all matched perfectly.

The Foundation's annual audit report was issued by PwC.

She closed the iPad cover and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes for a moment.

Two days.

She hadn't found anything.

She opened another page.

Fang Jiming's personal salary bank information.

Salary card balance: 4,327.56 yuan.

Salary deposits: 3,200 yuan base salary, 500 yuan class subsidy.

No mortgage, no car loan, no investments, no securities account.

His spending history was shockingly mundane: convenience stores, night markets, the school Cafeteria, a monthly pass for shared bikes, an electric scooter, and his largest purchase was a two-hundred-yuan grocery run.

Director Su Nianwei stared at the number 4,327.56 for a long time.

A person with only four thousand three hundred yuan in their account had brokered sixty-seven million yuan in donation funds.

It didn't make sense logically.

But there were no flaws in the data.

She pushed up her glasses and stood up.

"I'm going to go talk to Fang Jiming again."

Xiao Zhou and Old Zhao exchanged a glance.

Fang Jiming was currently teaching Class 18.

Director Su Nianwei walked to the classroom door in her high heels and, through the glass window on the door, saw Fang Jiming standing in front of the 85-inch OLED blackboard teaching math.

A complex geometric figure was drawn on the blackboard, marked with dense auxiliary lines and formula derivations.

The thirty-eight students below were actually listening attentively.

Even Lu Zihao, the most troublesome troublemaker at No. 19 Middle School, had a notebook in front of him filled with writing.

Director Su Nianwei stood outside the door and watched for about three minutes.

Fang Jiming's way of teaching was different from any teacher she had ever seen.

He didn't read from a textbook, and he didn't read off a PPT.

When explaining a concept, he would first introduce a daily scenario to cut into the topic, then guide them step-by-step to the formulas and theorems.

Every sentence was short, every analogy was precise, and occasionally he would interject with a sharp, sarcastic comment, causing a burst of laughter from the students, after which their attention would be even more focused.

Director Su Nianwei found herself listening in despite herself.

She snapped back to reality and raised her hand to knock on the classroom door twice.

Fang Jiming turned his head, saw Director Su Nianwei's cold face through the glass window on the door, and unscrewed his thermos to take a sip.

"Students, do some self-study for five minutes. Work on the third and fourth problems."

He opened the classroom door and walked out.

There were only the two of them in the hallway.

Director Su Nianwei got straight to the point.

"Teacher Fang, I've finished auditing the financial data of The Foundation."

Fang Jiming leaned against the hallway wall, his thermos tucked under his arm.

"And what did you find?"

The corners of Director Su Nianwei's mouth tightened.

"From a financial standpoint, there are no anomalies."

Fang Jiming's expression was calm, with a very slight curve at the corner of his mouth.

"Then is there anything else you need me to cooperate with, Director Su?"

Director Su Nianwei didn't answer this question.

"Teacher Fang, your salary plus subsidies is less than four thousand yuan, you have no side income, and your bank card balance is less than five thousand."

"On what grounds did you get an overseas foundation managing hundreds of millions in funds to look favorably upon No. 19 Middle School?"

"What is your bargaining chip?"

She pushed up her glasses, the gaze behind the lenses sharp enough to be uncomfortable.

"How can a fresh graduate with no social connections mobilize charitable resources of this magnitude?"

Fang Jiming looked at her.

"Director Su, some things don't require bargaining chips; they require others being willing to help."

"Doesn't someone helping require a reason?"

"Some people really don't need a reason to do good deeds."

Director Su Nianwei pursed her lips even tighter.

"Teacher Fang, this answer does not satisfy me."

Fang Jiming smiled.

"Director Su, audits are based on data and evidence, not on whether you are satisfied or not."

"You've been investigating for two days, and there are no anomalies in the data, so the audit conclusion should be that it is compliant."

"As for why I personally know those people and how I convinced them to donate, that falls under my private social life and is not within the scope of your audit authority."

Director Su Nianwei looked at his composed and unyielding demeanor, her fingers tapping twice on the back of her iPad.

Every word he said was within the legal and logical framework; there were no flaws to pick at.

The data showed no issues.

The personal account showed no issues.

She could question his motives, but questioning without evidence to support it was just speculation.

Speculation could not be written into an audit report.

Director Su Nianwei composed herself.

"Teacher Fang, the audit isn't over yet. I will continue to stay on-site and observe for the remainder of this week."

"I hope you will continue to cooperate."

Fang Jiming made a gesture for her to go ahead, then turned, pushed open the classroom door, and walked back in.

Director Su Nianwei stood in the hallway and heard Fang Jiming's lazy voice drifting out from the classroom.

"Alright, alright, stop copying. Who solved the third problem? Zhao Dazhuang, what kind of mess have you drawn here? You've drawn the auxiliary lines like a lightning rod."

A roar of laughter erupted from below.

Director Su Nianwei turned and walked toward the stairwell, her high heels tapping out a crisp rhythm on the terrazzo floor.

After returning to the conference room, she locked herself inside and sat there for half an hour.

The data was spread out on the table, and the iPad screen was lit up.

But what she was thinking about in her mind was not the data.

She was thinking about the expression Fang Jiming had when he was leaning against the wall in the hallway.

It wasn't arrogance or guilt; he truly didn't care.

A person with only four thousand yuan in their bank card was calmer in the face of an audit involving tens of millions of funds than any entrepreneur she had ever met.

Either he was really just a lucky middleman.

Or what he was hiding was much deeper than what she could uncover.

Director Su Nianwei opened a new page in her notebook and wrote a line at the very top.

Fang Jiming, pending, continue observation.