Huaibei City, a quiet orphanage on the outskirts.
A young man with black-rimmed glasses and a large box entered with a warm smile. Though it was winter, the weather was pleasant today. The moment he stepped in, the children playing in the yard immediately swarmed around him.
"Brother Wei, you're here!"
"Wei-ge!"
The children's eyes lit up with joy, treating him like family. Seeing their eager expressions, Wei Zhe's face softened. He patted the box with a grin.
"I brought new clothes for you guys."
Cheers erupted from the group of kids.
"Thank you, Brother Wei!"
Amid their excitement, an elderly man walked out from the house. His clothes were plain, his face lined with age, but his expression was full of warmth.
"Wei Zhe, you came."
"Dean," Wei Zhe greeted him with a smile, setting the box down. "These are winter clothes I bought for the kids."
"You always bring something every time you visit." The old man sighed. "The orphanage's situation is difficult, but with government assistance and some donations, we're scraping by. You don't have to keep spending like this."
Wei Zhe simply nodded. "Please give the clothes to the children."
The old dean smiled and began distributing the clothes according to the kids' sizes. Laughter and chatter filled the air.
While the dean was busy, Wei Zhe's gaze drifted toward a girl sitting quietly by an easel, painting.
His eyes were filled with gentleness.
Noticing his gaze, the girl seemed startled and quickly looked away. After a moment, she smiled shyly at him, gave a small wave, and turned back to her drawing.
Wei Zhe didn't disturb her. He quietly sat on a nearby stool, watching her with a peaceful expression.
—
Elsewhere in the orphanage courtyard, a young man in a black sweater and jacket walked in, a scarf wrapped around his neck—Xiao Yu's gift. He looked like any ordinary youth.
Chen Mo stood silently, eyes resting on the orphanage's worn-out buildings. Behind him followed Wang Hai and White Pearl.
As they entered the courtyard, they spotted the cheerful children playing—and Wei Zhe seated by the girl.
Wei Zhe, enjoying the moment, turned and immediately froze at the sight of Chen Mo. His pupils contracted. As a seasoned programmer, how could he not recognize the legendary figure in the field?
Chen Mo was supposed to be in Binhai City. His sudden appearance here made Wei Zhe's heart sink.
"Hello… Are you looking for someone?" Wei Zhe walked over, a bit cautious.
"Let's talk," Chen Mo said calmly.
He glanced toward the girl painting, then sat down on a stool nearby, quietly watching the children.
"What do you want to talk about?" Wei Zhe asked, pulling up a stool and sitting beside him. He was no fool—Chen Mo's visit was certainly no coincidence.
"Do you like that girl?" Chen Mo asked, looking toward the easel.
"What are you implying?" Wei Zhe tensed. "She has nothing to do with anything."
Chen Mo chuckled and shook his head. "I'm not here to cause trouble. Just curious—why volunteer at this rundown orphanage? Because of her?"
Wei Zhe studied Chen Mo for a long moment, then sighed.
"No. I'm also an orphan. Grew up eating meals in others' homes, so I've always liked doing volunteer work. Her name is Tang Xueyin. I met her here about a year ago when I came to volunteer. I liked her the moment I saw her—quiet and kind. So I kept coming back."
"A volunteer like you created the 'Clown'—an organization that threatens global cyber security?" Chen Mo asked, voice steady. "Half righteous, half chaotic. That's you, isn't it?"
Wei Zhe's body stiffened. His eyes widened with disbelief, then slowly calmed.
"What happened with your company has nothing to do with me. I've already withdrawn."
He didn't deny it. After hearing the name 'Clown,' he knew Chen Mo had already uncovered his identity.
"I came to you because you quit," Chen Mo said. "I want to know—why would the founder of the Clown Organization walk away?"
Wei Zhe fell silent. Chen Mo waited.
"Are you here to arrest me?" Wei Zhe finally asked. "Turn me in to the police?"
"If I wanted you arrested, I wouldn't have come in person. I already have the full list of Clown members."
Wei Zhe looked down, lost in thought. After a while, he spoke.
"When the Chinese character programming language came out, I created a tech discussion group on a forum. I called it 'Clown.' We were all enthusiasts, fascinated by the language. After the Jiangnan virus incident, we discovered that the virus was written in Chinese character code. We were curious—how could a virus written in that language be so powerful?"
"So you hacked the city bureau and stole the virus source code," Chen Mo said.
Wei Zhe nodded and continued.
"Once we got the code, we discovered something shocking. The virus could self-propagate through the network. Firewalls were basically useless. It could infect one region and instantly spread to the next. The group was thrilled."
"So they wanted to use it to control the web—and get rich?" Chen Mo asked.
"No," Wei Zhe replied, his expression filled with self-mockery. "It's even more ridiculous."
"Oh?" Chen Mo raised an eyebrow. "Explain."
"They didn't want money. They wanted to prove their technical ability. For them, hijacking a city, blackmailing a country—that gave them a sense of accomplishment. It was all just... fun. I didn't agree with that kind of extremism, so I quit. Whatever they did after that—I wasn't involved. As for why they framed you? Maybe just for amusement. Or maybe because your Termite System threatened their plans."
Chen Mo was surprised by the answer. The idea that these acts of cyberterrorism were carried out for fun was beyond reckless.
Having shared what he knew, Wei Zhe turned his attention back to the girl.
"Why haven't you told her how you feel?" Chen Mo asked. "Forget the Clown stuff for now. That's not important."
"She's mute—born that way," Wei Zhe said softly. "She knows how I feel, but she's always felt inferior. Afraid I'd reject her."
"You're indecisive. With her condition, rejection would hit harder. You need to show her you're serious. Let her feel secure," Chen Mo said.
Wei Zhe looked at him, then slowly nodded. "Thank you."
"I told you—I didn't come here to cause trouble," Chen Mo said. "I came to ask if you'd consider joining the Marching Ant Company."
Wei Zhe was stunned. He hadn't expected that.
"Why?" he asked.
"This era is changing," Chen Mo said. "We need people proficient in Chinese character programming. With better pay, you can support this orphanage more easily. Isn't that better than being an unknown programmer in the shadows?"
"I'll think about it," Wei Zhe said after a moment.
"I'll wait for your answer. I didn't come empty-handed either. Here's 100,000 yuan—give it to the dean to buy clothes and quilts for the kids."
With that, Chen Mo stood, nodded to Wei Zhe, and left the orphanage.
Among the files Mo Nu had gathered, Wei Zhe's stood out. That's why Chen Mo came in person. Wei Zhe was a principled man—and a rare talent.
Just as Chen Mo stepped out of the orphanage gates, his phone rang.