Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
“Confirmation of Conversion to Co-Creation Partner”
“Interim Settlement Confirmation for Wages and Bonuses”
Below those came the densely packed core clauses.
Wages folded into co-creation profits.
Performance pay folded into co-creation profits.
Reimbursements folded into co-creation profits.
The employment relationship changed to a project-based partnership.
Claiming a red envelope counted as completion of the interim settlement.
No further claims could be made for wages, bonuses, overtime, compensation, and so on.
I stared at the screen, my scalp prickling.
I didn’t tap Confirm.
I saved three copies of the screen recording.
Then I messaged Xia He:
“Get everyone into a small group. Don’t add Ms. Zhou, HR, or Admin.”
Ten minutes later, the new group was up.
There were more than twenty people in it.
Editors, ad buyers, technicians, commerce staff.
As soon as they joined, messages started flying.
“Is there any way out of this?”
“We already signed electronically.”
“Ms. Zhou says making a fuss is useless.”
“Boss Shao says we voluntarily joined the co-creation plan.”
“If my parents find out I’ve lost months of wages, they’ll kill me.”
Someone else accused me.
“Lin Zhao, did you know there was a problem from the start?”
“Why didn’t you warn everyone last night?”
“You didn’t come, fine—but why didn’t you say anything in the group?”
After those messages appeared, the group went quiet for a few seconds.
6
I looked at the screen without getting angry.
I typed:
“I didn’t know exactly what he was planning. I only knew something felt wrong.”
“I told Xia He not to claim the red envelope at one in the morning, but the messages were already flying through the group. I had no proof.”
Xia He spoke up immediately.
“Zhaozhao warned me. I was the one who didn’t listen.”
The person who’d accused me said no more.
I continued:
“Now is not the time to argue.”
“If we want our money back, there are three things everyone needs to do starting now.”
“First, save everything: the red-envelope page, screenshots of what you claimed, signature history, the original agreement, payment status, and photos or videos from the dinner.”
“Second, gather your own records of wages, performance pay, reimbursements, overtime, and project bonuses the company still owes you.”
“Third, stop discussing this privately with HR. Don’t sign any additional documents. Don’t admit in the group that the ‘voluntary settlement’ was yours.”
“If they call, say only this: ‘There was a serious misunderstanding during the signing process. We’re preparing to report the matter to the regulators and labor arbitration.’”
When I finished, I dropped my screen recording of the red-envelope page into the group.
Everyone fell silent.
A few seconds later, Lu Chuan sent a message:
“I can check the admin system.”
Lu Chuan worked in tech.
He was usually quiet and easy to overlook.
But the moment I saw those words, I sat up straight.
I asked, “What can you find?”
“Event configuration history, template links, edit times. As long as my access hasn’t been revoked.”
“Check now. Don’t save anything on a company computer. Export it to a personal device.”
“Okay.”
At nine the next morning, I went to the office.
The reception desk was empty.
The slogan they’d put on the glass door a few days earlier was still there:
“Create the future together. Share in the profits.”
Now it only looked ridiculous.
The meeting room was packed.
No one had slept well after that night.
Xia He’s eyes were swollen like walnuts.
A Kun had cursed the entire way over.
Xiao Song was deathly pale. The company still hadn’t reimbursed her for the studio rental and props she’d paid for herself, and her credit card was about to come due.
Lu Chuan sat in the corner with his laptop open.
The moment I walked in, he looked up.
“I found it.”
The projector came on.
The admin system’s logs were right there on the screen.
Event name:
“Cash Red Envelope Fund: 888,888.”
Created:
Three days ago.
Creator:
Boss Shao’s administrator account.
Template link:
“Mass Settlement Plan for Employees with Unpaid Wages V4.”
The room erupted.
“Employees with unpaid wages?”
“He knew they were unpaid!”
“V4? There were three versions before this?”
Lu Chuan scrolled down.
“There’s also a revision history.”
A note appeared on the screen:
“Remove the prominent warning about converting employment relationships from the public page to avoid affecting the claim rate.”
The meeting room fell completely silent.
A few seconds later, Xia He covered her mouth and began to cry.
The boss knew that if the webpage said plainly, “Tap here and your wages, performance pay, and reimbursements will be considered settled,” no one would tap it.
So he hid the language inside the “Event Rules.”
Then he tucked the rules away inside the red-envelope page.
Everything was designed to keep people from having time to think.
7
I told Lu Chuan to export all the screenshots from the admin system, the original log files, and the website source code.
He nodded.