PDLP Chapter 449 The Real Traitor
Chapter 449 The Real Traitor
Li Mo didn't finish going through those logs until 2 a.m. They weren't the system-generated access logs; Lao Zhou had already sifted through those three times and found nothing new. He was going through his own handwritten work notes, four large notebooks filled with entries from the day the Star Core project was launched. Every day, he meticulously recorded what he did, who touched which module at what time, and what was said at which meeting—all in clear blue and black ink. Four years' worth of entries filled nearly a thousand pages. He sat on the office floor, flipping through the pages one by one, until he suddenly stopped at a page from last December.
On that page was a simple network topology diagram, which he had sketched casually during a training session for the systems department. A few names were scribbled next to the diagram, one of which was circled. He didn't make any further markings on that page, nor did he take a picture and send it to anyone. He simply stood up and went to the window, where he stood for a long time.
The next morning, he went into Lingyun's office and placed a list on the table. The list contained only one name—Systems Department Database Administrator, three years with access to almost all core servers.
Last year, when the database was migrated, this person volunteered to work the night shift for maintenance, and he was in charge of the root passwords for three database servers.
After that relocation, he didn't return the temporary access, his supervisor forgot to follow up, and the security department forgot to check. In other words, from last year until now, this person has been holding a key that can open all doors.
"Liu Jun," Ling Yun said, looking at the name.
"You already guessed it?"
"After the last whimsical Falcon Project was exposed, I had Zhao Hu investigate the social networks of all the former employees again. Most people's networks were completely severed after they left the company. Liu Jun's wasn't severed—after he was fired last year, he went back to his hometown for two months, and then returned to Jinan, renting a house in the development zone, ostensibly to run a network cabling business. But Wang Degui's people checked his bank account and found a fixed monthly deposit, not much, but very punctual, from a Shenzhen company. The legal representative of this company is Yang Peng. You should remember this person—he was the one who orchestrated Zhao Weiguo's incident in Nanjing."
Li Mo sat down opposite Ling Yun, took out a faded cigarette case from his pocket. There were no cigarettes inside, just a few sheets of paper. He pulled out one of the printed sheets, which had been folded twice, and unfolded it. It showed a photo that Zhao Hu had taken at the entrance of the teahouse. In the photo, Liu Jun and a man were sitting face to face, and on the table was a bulging brown paper envelope, the seal almost bursting open.
"This envelope—look at its thickness. This is definitely not the first time."
Ling Yun glanced at the photo, then placed the list on the table. "Zhao Hu followed him for three days. Every Thursday night, he went to the same teahouse, the same spot, to meet the same person. That person is from the intelligence department of the Yixiang Group, named Yang Peng. Their meeting time is very fixed, Thursday nights at 7:30, at the booth at the very back of the teahouse against the wall. There's a back door next to that spot, leading to a small alley."
"That makes things simple," Li Mo said. "Next Thursday night, have Zhao Hu wait for him at the door."
"No traffic jams."
"No traffic jams?"
Ling Yun stood up and walked to the whiteboard. The circles and lines representing the supply chain were still there. He found a blank space next to it, drew a circle, and wrote "Liu Jun" inside it. Then he drew a line from the circle, and drew a square at the other end, writing "Imagination" inside it.
"He stole the chip design documents. He also stole the test data. He thought we didn't know. The test data that Yixiang obtained is real, but it's not a version—they got the old version. The old version of the chip has more problems than the new version, but those problems do exist. He's more valuable to Yixiang now than ever. If we arrest him, Yixiang can just replace him with someone else, and we won't know who's next. If we don't arrest him, we'll record every piece of intelligence he passes on, which is like him regularly feeding Yixiang's decision-making system—feeding pigs."
Li Mo folded the photo back into its original crease, stuffed it back into the cigarette pack, and stared at the circle on the whiteboard with "Liu Jun" written on it for several seconds. Someone outside was calling from downstairs, the voice carried away by the wind, only the final "Hurry up" audible. Li Mo put the cigarette pack in his pocket and stood up.
"What do you need me to do?"
"Starting tomorrow, all development work on the second version of StarCore will be moved to the internal network isolation zone. Physical isolation—no remote login, no cross-network access, and each time you enter the server, you must swipe your card in the server room to sign in. To the outside world, we'll say we're doing a routine security upgrade. Also, continue feeding Liu Jun the false intelligence—I'll have Lao Zhou set up an old, offline server for the testing team and put a set of seemingly sensitive but actually irrelevant old version test data on it. Mix in a few fake numbers—fake GPU frequency, fake power consumption, enough for them to analyze for half a month."
Li Mo paused at the door, his hand resting on the doorknob without pressing it down. "Brother Ling, do you remember how much I drank at that meal—I mean, the one where I got my hair cut?"
"You drank six bottles of Tsingtao beer and threw up in the flower bed outside the internet cafe. The next day, Zhao Weiguo used a hose to flush it down for you."
"I told you back then that following you for the rest of my life would be worth it. That statement still holds true."
The door closed. The motion-sensor lights in the hallway turned on and off. Ling Yun walked to the whiteboard and drew another line below the circle for "Liu Jun," ending the line with a question mark. Next to the question mark, he wrote two words: "Fishing."