Chapter 35: I Admit It, I Have Lost!

Day three of going undercover.
The final day.
Jin Chengan stood at the windy mouth of the valley, the brim of his hard hat pressing against his sweat-drenched bangs. The air was filled with the scent of earth and grass, mingled with the low, rhythmic roar of heavy machinery operating in the distance. This was the environment he was most familiar with, yet the one he once despised the most.

Three days ago, he had imagined this place as a quagmire teeming with lies and vice. Now, standing on this very ground, he felt a sense of stability rising from beneath his feet all the way to his crown.

A drone hovered three meters in front of him, its cold lens aimed directly at him. Its red indicator light blinked steadily, like a tireless eye. Through this eye, millions of gazes were fixed upon him.

He remained silent. On the screen, countless comments began to scroll by.

"Why isn't Teacher Luo talking? Is he mute?"
"It's the last day, is the big reveal coming? Get your dirt ready!"
"He definitely didn't find any evidence and is trying to figure out how to spin it! I know his type."
"Trying to find a scandal in three days? Too naive."

Jin Chengan looked at these malicious speculations, but the sense of being offended he had felt three days ago was gone. He only found them absurd, laughable. It wasn't the netizens who were ridiculous; it was the version of himself from three days ago.

He slowly raised his hand, not to adjust the camera, but to remove his hard hat, revealing a face weathered and roughened by the mountain wind and the scorching sun. Then, facing the lens and the millions of eyes behind it, he bowed.

It was a standard ninety-degree bow. There was no hesitation, not a hint of performative artifice. He held his spine taut like a drawn bow, his head lowered deeply, as if to kiss the earth he had once scorned.

Time stretched in that moment. The chaotic stream of comments in the livestream came to an eerie halt; everyone was stunned by this sudden, profoundly solemn gesture.

One second.
Two seconds.
Five seconds.

Jin Chengan slowly straightened up and looked into the lens again.

"Brothers, I've been here for three days."

His throat was bone-dry, the first syllable carrying a texture like grinding metal. He cleared his throat, but his voice remained undeniably hoarse—a mark left by three days of shouting on the construction site and breathing in dust. Yet, every word was filled with a sincerity he had never possessed before.

"I must admit, I came here initially with the utmost prejudice and malice."

He did not evade his motives; instead, he stripped them bare, displaying them for all to see.

"I believed that behind every act of kindness in this world, there lay hidden calculations and pretenses."

This belief had been his creed for the past decade as "anti-fraud crusader" Luo Bin, the weapon he relied upon to survive. Now, he had broken that weapon with his own hands. A bitter smile touched his lips—a smile of self-mockery, relief, and a certain bewilderment born from having his worldview completely overturned.

"But in these three days here, everything I saw has completely shattered my perceptions."

Images began to surge through his mind uncontrollably.

On the first day, he walked into the four-person dormitory; the sweat and clutter he had anticipated were nowhere to be found. Instead, there were crisp, clean sheets, uniforms folded into perfect squares, and a small, nameless flower blooming vibrantly on the windowsill.

On the second day, he stood in the cafeteria, looking at the endless buffet line. The glistening braised pork, the fresh steamed fish, and the free, perfectly chilled watermelon. He saw with his own eyes a foreman being sternly reprimanded by a cafeteria worker for wasting half a bowl of rice, eventually finishing it out of shame.

Last night, he watched a young worker, overwhelmed by an argument with his family, being invited into the psychological counseling room. An hour later, the young man emerged with red-rimmed eyes, bowing deeply to the teacher.

"I saw clean, tidy dormitories, ate better buffet food than at a five-star hotel, and witnessed free medical care and psychological counseling. I saw genuine smiles and heard songs sung from the heart."

He spoke slowly, as if counting off precious jewels.

"Most importantly, I saw the ultimate respect afforded to every ordinary laborer."

He emphasized this word heavily. *Respect.*

He had heard this word countless times at high-end forums and business galas, uttered by elites in suits and ties, where it sounded airy and weightless, like a pretty slogan.

But here, he saw "Old Cannon" slam his hand on the table at the project manager because a worker had suffered heatstroke. He saw Academician Qian Liqun patiently explaining the principles of mechanics to a steel worker with only an elementary school education. He saw He Yu, that legendary young man, squatting on the ground eating a boxed lunch with the workers, remembering the name of every construction captain and even knowing which grade their children were in.

This respect was melted into every meal, permeated every safety inspection, and was reflected in every paycheck issued in full and on time.

It was not a slogan. It was reality.

"There is no scandal here, no exploitation, no deception."

"There is only a group of simple, honest people working hard for the future of Nanhe Province."

He looked into the lens again. In those eyes that had once been overly sharp, always searching for flaws, there remained only openness and conviction.

"So, I admit, my 'anti-fraud' mission here has been a complete failure."

"I lost, and I admit my defeat wholeheartedly."

The moment the words left his lips, he felt a sense of lightness. Admitting defeat did not bring shame; instead, it felt like shedding a heavy shackle he had carried for ten years.

The comments in the livestream, after a brief silence, erupted with a volcanic, terrifying density.

"Holy crap... what did I just hear? Teacher Luo is conceding?"
"I'm crying, really. I don't know why, I just want to cry."
"This is a real man! Taking responsibility for his actions! Luo Bin, I respect you as a man!"
"I've gone from a hater to a fan! From today on, I don't care who you criticize—if you praise them, I'm following!"

Jin Chengan ignored the praise. In his chest, a surging emotion that had been suppressed for three days was seeking an outlet.

"If this is what people call 'hype' and 'PR stunts,'" his voice rose sharply—no longer a calm statement, but a powerful cry, his vocal cords trembling with the intensity of his effort, "then I, Luo Bin, hope that such 'hype' can happen more, and then more, in our society!"

He shouted the last few words. This desperate, impassioned cry, transmitted through the drone's microphone, rang clearly across the entire internet.

The eardrums of millions of viewers buzzed, their hearts pounding violently. The screen was completely covered by two characters:

*Moved!*
*Admire!*
*Support!*
*Longhai University is amazing!*

The torrent of words converged into an unstoppable storm, sweeping across every social platform. The reputation of Longhai University, because of this "failed" anti-fraud mission that was perfect in its own right, was pushed to a new, unprecedented peak.