K's Report

At 2:47 AM, a new message popped up on the encrypted communication software.

Lin Feng was still awake. He sat at his desk, an open book of "Analysis of Criminal Law Cases" in front of him, and a draft of a legal opinion he was writing halfway next to him. The lamplight cast a warm yellow glow on the pages. The city outside the window had fallen asleep, with only the occasional sound of a night bus engine coming from afar.

He opened the message.

From: K.

No greetings, no small talk, just three words: "Report complete."

Below are three encrypted attachments, with the following filenames:

Dongbei Central Kitchen Production Records_2026Q1. zip

Cold chain logistics agreement and delivery record. zip

Internal Training Materials - Scripts for Handling Customer Questions. docx

Lin Feng got up, went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, returned to his desk, and downloaded the attachment.

The first compressed file, after being unzipped, contains hundreds of Excel spreadsheets and image files. The Excel spreadsheets are arranged by date, from January 1st to March 15th of this year, and record the daily production details of Dongbei Central Kitchen: dish name, production batch, packaging specifications, freezing temperature, warehousing time, outbound time, and delivery destination.

Lin Feng randomly clicked on a few items. The production of "Braised Fish Pieces (300g pack)" on February 3rd was 12,540 units, mainly delivered to service area stores and transportation hub stores in East China and South China. The production of "Stir-fried Pork Pre-cooked Meal Pack (250g pack)" on March 8th was 18,760 units, with delivery coverage extending to all business district stores nationwide.

The image file is a real shot of the central kitchen's production line. Huge steaming pots, automatic filling machines, rapid freezing tunnels, and workers in sterile suits packaging meal kits on the assembly line. The photo was obviously taken secretly, from a hidden angle, but the image is clear, and you can clearly see the words "Exclusively supplied by Dongbei Catering" and "Shelf life: 180 days frozen at -18℃" printed on the packaging bags.

The second compressed file contains scanned copies of contracts. These are cooperation agreements signed between Dongbei and three cold chain logistics companies, detailing the terms, price lists, and delivery time requirements. One attachment is a summary table of last year's delivery records: the delivery frequency for service area stores is "once daily," but the remarks column states "mainly frozen meal kits, supplemented with a small amount of fresh fruits and vegetables." The delivery frequency for commercial district stores is "three times a week," with the remarks stating "frozen meal kits account for approximately 40%-50%, the remainder being fresh ingredients."

Lin Feng noticed that the temperature requirement for all delivery records was "below -18℃".

The third file is a Word document titled "Standard Script for Store Employees to Respond to Customer Questions (2025 Revised Edition)". It lists various possible customer questions and standard answers in a categorized manner.

He clicked on the section about "freshness of ingredients":

The customer asked, "Is your fish freshly killed?"

Standard response. "Hello sir/madam, Dongbei insists on using fresh ingredients, which are delivered daily from our central kitchen and cooked on-site in the store's kitchen to ensure freshness and taste." (Note: If the customer presses for details, you can guide them to visit the transparent kitchen, but avoid directly answering with the words "freshly killed.")

The customer asked, "This meat doesn't taste like it was freshly cooked?"

The standard response. "All our dishes are cooked to order in our kitchen. If you are not satisfied with the taste, we can make you a new one." (Note: We generally do not use pre-made dishes; if the customer insists, we can offer a fruit platter or discount coupon as a gesture of goodwill.)

A customer asked, "It seems like you're just heating things directly in your kitchen?"

The standard answer is, "That's our chefs performing the final seasoning and plating according to standard procedures. To ensure consistent taste and food safety, some initial processing steps are done in the central kitchen, but the core cooking is always done on-site at the store." (Note: This answer should be given by the store manager or a senior employee to avoid new employees making mistakes.)

The document ends with a bolded note:

[All employees must remember: Dongbei's core commitment is 'fresh ingredients, cooked to order.' Under no circumstances should they proactively mention terms such as 'pre-made dishes,' 'prepared meal kits,' or 'frozen and reheated.' In the event of media interviews or undercover investigations, immediately notify the store manager, who will then report to the regional manager for handling.]

Lin Feng finished reading and closed the document.

The light from the computer screen shone on his face, which remained calm and expressionless.

He replied to K: "Where are the internal meeting minutes?"

K replied almost instantly, "The meeting system has an independent intranet and is physically isolated, so it will take time to penetrate. We have obtained the schedules of some participants. Zheng Dong has a senior management meeting every Monday morning at 9:00 AM, and the meeting minutes may be archived on a separate server in the chairman's office."

Lin Feng: "How long will it take?"

K: "Within three days."

Lin Feng: "Continue."

The conversation has ended.

Lin Feng leaned back in his chair, looking at the list of documents on the screen. Data, contracts, rhetoric—a cold chain of evidence, like a scalpel dissecting a company's promotional shell to reveal its true nature.

He recalled that at the service area, Lü Yi took a bite of fish, frowned, and said, "It's frozen." He remembered his casual comment. "That's normal; many chain restaurants do that nowadays."

At the time, he had no idea that his comment "that's normal" would trigger a series of events.

My phone vibrated; it was a message from Lü Yi, timed 3:02 AM.

"Boss! I saw a post! Someone anonymously revealed that Dongbei uses pre-made food! And they even claimed to be a former regional manager at Dongbei!"

A link was attached at the end.

Lin Feng clicked on it. It was an anonymous section of a catering industry forum, and the post titled. "I've worked at Dongbei for eight years, let me tell you the truth."

The poster, claiming to be a former regional manager at Dongbei, stated that Dongbei began implementing a central kitchen three years ago, and now 80% of their dishes are pre-prepared meal kits, with service area stores using 100%. The so-called "daily delivery" refers to delivering frozen packages, not fresh ingredients. The company requires all stores to insist on "freshly prepared," or face fines. The post also mentioned that the company recently made a huge fuss over a service area video, suppressing the blogger and hiring online trolls, because they "have something to hide."

The post was published half an hour ago and already has over two hundred replies. Some are asking for details, some say they "already guessed it," while others question the poster's identity, saying "a former employee's revelation is unreliable."

Lin Feng closed the page and replied to Lü Yi with "OK".

Lü Yi quickly sent another message: "Should I add fuel to the fire for this post? I have multiple alt accounts!"

Lin Feng: "No need to wait."

Lü Yi sent a crying face emoji, "What are you waiting for? We have all the evidence, just throw it out and smash them to death!"

Lin Feng did not reply.

He reopened the file K had sent, his gaze falling on the production data.

12,540 servings of braised fish chunks. 18,760 servings of stir-fried pork meal kits. Freeze at -18℃ for 180 days.

Behind these numbers are tens of thousands of customers sitting in Dongbei's restaurants, enjoying "freshly stir-fried" dishes that are taken from the freezer, heated up, and then plated.

Do they know what they are eating?

Some people may know this, but don't care—it's just fast food; as long as it's cheap, convenient, and tastes decent, that's enough.

But many more people are drawn to the promise of "fresh ingredients, cooked to order." They are willing to pay a little more for this, and they trust that this company, which has been operating for twenty years, has hundreds of stores, and whose walls are covered with awards, won't lie to them.

Lin Feng thought of Zheng Dong.

The chairman who stares at public opinion briefings in his office, slams his fist on the table in anger, and is willing to do anything to protect the "foundation of the brand".

What exactly is he protecting?

Is it a promise of "freshly made," or a beautifully crafted but fragile lie woven over twenty years?

The distant hum of a garbage truck at work could be heard from outside the window, exceptionally clear in the quiet of the night.

Lin Feng turned off the computer, got up, and walked to the window.

The city is asleep. Streetlights cast a dim yellow glow on the streets, and occasionally a car returning home drives by, the sound of tires rubbing against the ground growing louder and then fading away.

He took out his phone and sent a message to Zhou Wenyuan: "I've got the evidence against Dongbei."

A few minutes later, Zhou Wenyuan replied, "Is this solid enough evidence?"

Lin Feng: "Enough."

Zhou Wenyuan: "How do you plan to use it?"

Lin Feng: "I haven't decided yet."

Zhou Wenyuan: "Zheng Dong won't let this go. He sent people to the law firm today, but I turned them away. But knowing his personality, he'll continue to put pressure on us."

Lin Feng: "Let him come."

Zhou Wenyuan: "Do I need to prepare countermeasures in advance? Defamation lawsuits, commercial defamation, or infringement of personal information—the evidence they have of hiring online trolls to attack you is enough."

Lin Feng looked at the message, thought for a moment, and replied, "Keep it for now. Wait."

Zhou Wenyuan sent a question mark.

Lin Feng: "Wait until he takes a few more steps forward."

The conversation has ended.

Lin Feng put down his phone and looked out the window again.

From the very beginning, Zheng Dong was the one pushing things along in the Dongbei incident. Deleting videos, suppressing bloggers, sending lawyer's letters, hiring online trolls, threatening people at their doorsteps— Zheng Dong was the one making every move, while he just stood there watching.

Now that he has the evidence, he can certainly fight back. By releasing those production records, logistics contracts, and internal scripts, Dongbei's so-called "freshly made" will collapse like a house of cards.

But that would be too easy.

It's so simple it's almost boring.

He was even more curious to see what Zheng Dong would do next. How would someone who valued brand reputation more than life itself choose in the face of the truth? Would he continue to stubbornly resist, or would he find a way to back down? Would he reflect on his actions, or would he escalate his behavior even further?

And what about the "former employees" who anonymously exposed their misconduct on forums, the customers who questioned the situation on social media, and the waiters who were trained not to mention pre-prepared dishes—what will they choose?

Lies are like a snowball, growing bigger and bigger until they can no longer contain the weight of the truth, and then they collapse with a crash.

He wanted to see that moment of collapse.

There was a rustling sound behind her. Lü Yi rubbed her eyes and came out of the guest room, groggily asking, "Boss, you're still awake?"

"Go to sleep now," Lin Feng said.

Lü Yi walked over to him, looked out the window, and yawned. "What are you looking at?"

"Let's see when the snow melts."

Lü Yi followed his gaze. In the flower bed downstairs, the spring snow from a few days ago hadn't completely melted, and it looked dirty grayish-white under the streetlights.

"What's so interesting about snow?" Lü Yi muttered. "It just turns into mud and water when it melts."

"Okay." Lin Feng turned around. "Go to sleep."

He went back to his study and turned off the desk lamp. Darkness instantly engulfed the room, with only the power indicator light on the computer screen glowing a faint red light, like a sleeping eye.

Outside the window, the city remained asleep.

But some things have already begun to loosen.