Cracks in the Truth

When Li Zonghan requested Chen Mo’s temp assignment file, the HR assistant spent a whole morning just digging it out.

Not because the file was hard to find, but because HR was buried in the paperwork for advancing wages owed by Supai Human Resources, and no one had time for him. He sat in the HR conference room for nearly forty minutes before the assistant walked in with a thin folder.

“Assistant Manager, this is the file you asked for.” The assistant placed the folder on the table. “But this temp worker was placed through Jingjie Human Resources. We only have the basic contract and check-in documents here.”

Li Zonghan nodded and opened the folder.

The first page was the temp contract. The agency was “Jingjie Human Resources Consulting Co., Ltd.” Temp worker name: Chen Mo. Gender: Male. Age: Thirty-two. Education: Bachelor’s in Business Administration from a private university. Work experience: Shengda Electronics (three years), Hongwei Technology (one and a half years).

The second page was the check-in form, with a passport-style photo attached. In the photo, Chen Mo wore a white shirt, his expression flat, his eyes staring straight into the lens.

Li Zonghan stared at the photo for a long time.

He recognized that face. Not because he’d seen it around the office in the past few days—but because that face was almost identical to the Chen Mo he had set up three years ago.

But that Chen Mo should have disappeared from the industry by now. He had pulled strings to make sure Chen Mo could never find a job in electronics again. How could someone who’d been scapegoated and fired still survive in this circle?

Yet that face in the photo—he knew it too well. The thought made his fingers freeze in midair. The Chen Mo in front of him was the same Chen Mo from three years ago.

Li Zonghan closed the folder, stood up, and walked out of the conference room. He didn’t go back to his own office; instead, he headed straight to the support team’s seating area.

Xiao Lin was organizing documents. When she saw Li Zonghan approaching, her body tensed instinctively.

“Lin Jiahui.” Li Zonghan stood in front of her, his voice calm. “Come with me to my office.”

Xiao Lin’s expression didn’t change, but her fingers tightened around the papers she was holding. She stood up and followed Li Zonghan into the supervisor’s office she hadn’t stepped into for years.

Li Zonghan closed the door and motioned for her to sit. He didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he walked to the window, turned his back to her, and paused for a few seconds.

“Lin Jiahui, how long have you been with the company?”

“Nine years,” Xiao Lin said.

“Nine years.” Li Zonghan turned around to face her. “Then you should know my standing here.”

Xiao Lin said nothing.

Li Zonghan walked over, bent down, and lowered his voice. “I need you to do something for me.”

Xiao Lin’s heart began to race. She looked into Li Zonghan’s eyes—there was no warmth there, only a calm menace.

“Keep an eye on the new temp, Chen Mo,” Li Zonghan said. “What he does, who he talks to, where he goes—report to me every day.”

“Assistant Manager, I—”

“I know you don’t want trouble.” Li Zonghan cut her off. “But think about where you stand in this department. If I say you’re unfit and transfer you to the production line, or just have the company lay you off—how long do you think you’d last?”

Xiao Lin’s fingers clenched the hem of her skirt.

“I’m not trying to make things hard for you.” Li Zonghan straightened up, his tone shifting back to cordial. “I just need you to do me a small favor. When this is over, I’ll consider moving you back to your original position.”

Xiao Lin was silent for a long time. Finally, she nodded.

“Good.” Li Zonghan smiled. “That’s settled. If you find anything, tell me directly.”

When Xiao Lin walked out of the office, her legs were trembling slightly. She returned to her seat and saw Chen Mo coming back from the warehouse. He caught her pale face, his eyes flickering, but he didn’t say a word.

Xiao Lin lowered her head and continued organizing the documents. Her mind was a mess—she knew she was being used as a pawn, but she had no choice.

At six in the evening, as Chen Mo was packing up to leave, Xiao Lin suddenly called out to him.

“Chen Mo.” Her voice was low. “Did you… run into anything strange today?”

Chen Mo stopped and turned to look at her. Her face was a mixture of hesitation and fear—he understood immediately.

“No,” he said. “Why?”

“Nothing.” Xiao Lin looked down. “Just… be careful.”

Chen Mo didn’t press. He nodded and walked out of the office.

On his way home, he opened his phone and saw a message from Old Zhou: “Li Zonghan requested your temp file today.”

Chen Mo stood on the MRT platform, staring at the billboard across the tracks. Li Zonghan had confirmed his identity—sooner than he’d estimated.

He needed to speed things up.

The next morning, Chen Mo arrived half an hour early. He walked into the support team’s seating area, confirmed that Xiao Lin wasn’t there yet, then took a manila envelope from his pocket and slid it under her keyboard.

Inside the envelope was a photocopy of a forged purchase order—the one Li Zonghan had signed three years ago, supplier Hongyun Machinery, amount 320,000.

There was no name on the envelope, just a line: “The truth from three years ago.”

After that, Chen Mo walked to his own desk as if nothing had happened and turned on his computer.

At 8:20, Xiao Lin walked into the office. She set down her bag, sat down, and noticed the envelope under her keyboard. She froze for a second, opened it, and pulled out the photocopy.

Chen Mo didn’t turn to look at her. But from the corner of his eye, he saw her fingers trembling.

She stared at the copy for a long time. Then she shoved the envelope into her drawer and glanced at Chen Mo.

Chen Mo still didn’t turn.

But Xiao Lin’s breathing had become rapid.

During the lunch break, Xiao Lin didn’t go to the cafeteria. She sat alone at her desk, studying the copy over and over—the supplier on the purchase order, the amount, Li Zonghan’s signature. She recognized that signature; she’d been at the company for nine years and had seen him sign countless documents.

But she didn’t remember this order.

She recalled that three years ago, the company had indeed had a procurement case with Hongyun Machinery—but that case was handled by Chen Mo, not Li Zonghan. Chen Mo had been fired because something went wrong with that procurement.

But on this order, the signature was Li Zonghan’s.

Her phone suddenly vibrated, making her jump. The caller ID showed Li Zonghan.

She answered, her voice dry. “Assistant Manager?”

“Lin Jiahui, any findings this morning?”

Xiao Lin glanced at her drawer. The photocopy lay quietly inside.

“No,” she said. “He’s been normal.”

“Is that so?” Li Zonghan sounded disappointed. “If anything unusual happens, tell me immediately.”

“Okay.”

After hanging up, Xiao Lin placed her phone on the desk and stared at the photocopy for a long, silent moment.

Three years ago, when Chen Mo was fired, she had said nothing. She had seen something she shouldn’t have—a photo of Li Zonghan meeting privately with the supplier—but she chose silence because she was afraid of losing her job.

Now someone had delivered the truth to her doorstep.

What should she do?

At three in the afternoon, Chen Mo returned from the warehouse and found Xiao Lin’s seat empty. Her computer screen was dark, her drawer locked, her bag gone.

He didn’t think much of it. He walked to his desk, opened his drawer—and froze.

Inside the drawer lay a piece of paper.

It was a photocopy of a purchase order. Supplier: Hongyun Machinery. Amount: 320,000. Signature line: “Chen Mo.”

But he hadn’t signed it. Li Zonghan had forged it.

Chen Mo’s heart finally began to race. He looked around quickly—no one was watching. He picked up the copy, turned it over, and saw a handwritten line on the back:

“You think I don’t know? — Li Zonghan”

A faint smile curled at the corner of Chen Mo’s mouth.

He closed the drawer, stood up, and walked toward Li Zonghan’s office.

The door was open. Li Zonghan sat behind his desk, looking at his computer. When he saw Chen Mo walk in, a smile spread across his face—a smile of someone who believed he had already won.

“Chen Mo, perfect timing.” Li Zonghan leaned back in his chair. “Let’s have a chat.”

Chen Mo stopped at the doorway, not sitting down. “Assistant Manager, is something the matter?”

“Nothing serious.” Li Zonghan’s tone was light. “I just found a very interesting document in your drawer.”

Chen Mo said nothing.

“A purchase order from three years ago. Supplier Hongyun Machinery, amount 320,000, signed by you.” Li Zonghan’s smile widened. “Chen Mo, can you tell me why that document ended up in your drawer?”

Chen Mo looked at him, paused for a few seconds, then spoke. “Assistant Manager, I didn’t put that document there.”

“Oh?” Li Zonghan stood up, walked around his desk, and stepped in front of Chen Mo. “Then who did?”

“I don’t know,” Chen Mo said. “But I can tell you one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The signature on that document is a forgery. Yours.”

Li Zonghan’s smile froze.

The air in the office seemed to solidify for a second.

Then Li Zonghan laughed—a loud laugh, but it sounded hollow. “Chen Mo, you think anyone will believe that?”

“I’m not asking anyone to believe me,” Chen Mo said, his voice calm. “I’m just stating a fact.”

Li Zonghan’s smile vanished. He stared at Chen Mo, his eyes sharpening. “Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Chen Mo,” Chen Mo said. “A temp worker.”

“No, you’re not.” Li Zonghan’s voice dropped low. “You’re the Chen Mo from three years ago.”

Chen Mo neither denied nor admitted it. He simply looked at Li Zonghan, his eyes as still as a lake.

Li Zonghan’s breathing grew faster. He took a step back and pointed at Chen Mo. “What are you doing back here? Revenge?”

“I’m just here to work,” Chen Mo said.

“You can’t fool me.” Li Zonghan’s voice began to tremble. “You reviewed the surveillance footage, you broke into my safe, you tipped off the temp workers to file complaints—it was all you!”

Chen Mo didn’t answer.

Li Zonghan stared at him for a few seconds, his breathing ragged, his fists clenched. But in the end, he said nothing—the same threats he’d made three days ago in the warehouse, repeating them would only make him sound pathetic.

Chen Mo still said nothing.

“I’m telling you,” Li Zonghan said, his voice regaining its cold composure. “No matter who you are, no matter what you’re trying to do—you’ve already lost. I’ll get you fired again. And this time, I’ll make sure you disappear from this industry for good.”

Chen Mo looked at him, paused, then spoke. “Assistant Manager, if I’ve really lost already, why are you so nervous?”

Li Zonghan’s expression froze.

Chen Mo turned and walked out of the office. He didn’t look back, but he knew Li Zonghan was watching his back.

He returned to his seat and found Xiao Lin already back. She sat at her desk, head down, fingers gripping a pen tightly.

Chen Mo said nothing. He opened his drawer to confirm the copy was still there, then closed it and turned on his computer.

At six in the evening, as Chen Mo was packing up to leave, his phone buzzed. The caller ID showed Xiao Lin.

He answered. “Sister Lin?”

“Chen Mo.” Xiao Lin’s voice was very low, trembling. “I saw the letter you put in my drawer.”

Chen Mo was silent.

“Is it true?” Xiao Lin asked. “That order—did Li Zonghan really forge it?”

“Yes,” Chen Mo said.

A long silence on the other end of the line.

“You know?” Xiao Lin’s voice was tinged with bitterness. “Three years ago, I saw Li Zonghan meeting the supplier in private. But I didn’t say anything. Because I was afraid of losing my job.”

Chen Mo didn’t interrupt.

“The day you were fired, I saw you in the hallway,” Xiao Lin said. “You were carrying a cardboard box, walking out the company gate. I’ve seen that expression many times—it’s the look of someone who’s been betrayed.”

Chen Mo still said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Xiao Lin said, her voice barely a whisper. “I should have spoken up back then.”

“You still have a chance now,” Chen Mo said.

Another long silence.

Then Xiao Lin’s voice came through again, steadier than before. “What do you need me to do?”

Chen Mo stood on the MRT platform, watching the approaching train. He spoke, his voice calm. “I need you to tell HR what you saw.”

“If Li Zonghan finds out it was me…”

“He won’t,” Chen Mo said. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t come back to you.”

Xiao Lin paused for a few seconds, then said, “Okay.”

After hanging up, Chen Mo put away his phone and stepped into the train car. He found a spot in the corner, sat down, and closed his eyes.

Li Zonghan had found the copy of the forged order—but Chen Mo hadn’t put it in his drawer. Was it Xiao Lin? No, she wasn’t at her desk then. Was it someone from HR? Or did Li Zonghan put it there himself?

Whoever it was, the result was the same: Li Zonghan had confirmed his identity.

Now it was a head-on confrontation.

Chen Mo opened his eyes and stared at his own blurry reflection in the window. A faint smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

He had been waiting for this day for three years.