When he turned to the eighth page, his gaze involuntarily stalled, the handwriting on the eighth page was still identical to his, but the content had changed.
It contained only one line of small characters: "Liu, 300w, help with the bid."
Perhaps outsiders would not recognize the significance of these words, but he understood all too well. Initially, a boss had secretly given him a 300w check asking him for assistance with a project bid. That check was still kept at his home, but how could Dong Linze ever write these things in a notebook? He did not remember ever writing such things in his notebook.
Who had forged this notebook? And who else knew the inside story of the matter? Countless questions surfaced in Dong Linze's mind. If he was brought down, who would benefit? Could it be the deputy director he had competed against for so many years?
