Director Zhao did not like being compared to a fiction writer. His face turned a shade of purple that almost matched Chen Feng's car.
"Mr. Chen, this is a formal inquiry into the misappropriation of billions!" Zhao roared, slapping a thick stack of documents onto the table. "These bank statements, signed by Chairman Su himself, prove that funds were funneled into offshore accounts to purchase 'spiritual artifacts'—a clear sign of mental instability and corporate theft!"
Chen Feng didn't even look at the papers. He leaned over and whispered something into the ear of the giant stuffed panda. After a moment of silence, Chen Feng nodded gravely.
"The panda has a question," Chen Feng announced to the room. "He wants to know why a bank in the Cayman Islands would use a font that was only released by Microsoft last Tuesday, when these documents are supposedly dated from three years ago."
The room went silent. The woman in the scarlet dress—the Legal Beauty, whose nameplate read Shen Yue—narrowed her eyes. She leaned forward, snatched one of the documents, and examined the typography.
"He's right," Shen Yue whispered, her voice like silk rubbing against stone. "This is 'Modern Sans.' It didn't exist in 2023."
Zhao stammered, "A... a technical error by the printers! The content is what matters!"
"The content is even funnier," Chen Feng said, finally standing up. He walked over to the projector, his shadow looming over the spreadsheets. He pointed to a specific line item: Asset Purchase - $500,000,000 - 'The Eye of the North'.
"You claim Chairman Su bought a 'mystical gem' with company money," Chen Feng chuckled. "But anyone with half a brain—or a basic understanding of the local 'Antiques Market'—knows that 'The Eye of the North' is actually a brand of luxury industrial glass used for skyscrapers. Su Group bought it to build the very windows you're looking through right now."
Chen Feng turned to Shen Yue. "Miss Shen, as a legal expert, what do we call it when someone presents forged documents and mislabels legitimate corporate expenses as occult purchases?"
"Fraud, perjury, and a pathetic attempt at a coup," Shen Yue replied, a small, predatory smile playing on her lips. She looked at Chen Feng with newfound curiosity. This man wasn't just a "vagrant"; he saw through complex webs of deceit as if they were cobwebs.
Zhao was crumbling. The other board members were whispering, their "allegiance" shifting back to the Su family faster than a Wi-Fi signal in a thunderstorm. Su Meiling looked at Chen Feng with tears of relief, ready to launch a three-hour counter-offensive to put Zhao in prison.
"Chen Feng! You did it!" Meiling cried. "Now, stay here. We need you to testify, we need to sign the affidavits, we need to call the authorities—"
Chen Feng's smile vanished. The word "affidavits" hit him like a soul-dampening curse. He looked at the mountain of paperwork, the angry directors, and the crying woman.
"Yeah... no," Chen Feng said, already backing toward the door. "I did the 'reveal' part. That's the fun bit. The 'paperwork' part is a level of hell I haven't visited since the 4th Millennium."
"Wait!" Shen Yue stood up, her scarlet dress shimmering. "Mr. Chen, we need to discuss your... investigative methods."
"Discuss them with the panda," Chen Feng called out, his hand already on the door handle. "He's the one with the eye for detail. I have a date with a nap and a very specific type of strawberry milk that only one convenience store sells."
Before Meiling could grab his arm, Chen Feng vanished. He didn't use a movement technique; he just moved with the practiced stealth of a man who had spent ten thousand years avoiding annoying disciples.
By the time the board members realized he was gone, the purple Lamborghini was already screaming out of the parking garage.
"He left," Meiling whispered, staring at the empty chair. "He saved the company and then left because he was bored."
Shen Yue sat back down, picking up a stray churro Chen Feng had left on the table. She took a dainty bite. "A Sovereign who values his afternoon nap more than a billion-dollar empire," she mused, her eyes sparkling behind her glasses. "Meiling, your 'bodyguard' is either the most dangerous man in the city, or the luckiest. Either way, I think I need to 'audit' him personally."
Meanwhile, three miles away, Chen Feng was pulling into a 7-Eleven. "Two beauties down, one Legal Beauty interested, and Zhao is effectively a 'dead man walking,'" he hummed to himself. "Life is good. Now, where is my strawberry milk?"