The receptionist at the Xinhua News Agency's front desk frowned at the large box left behind her desk. She had almost tripped on it twice.

There was no one listed as a recipient on the box. Just Xinhua News Agency. In a fit of annoyance, she opened the box with a jerk.

Papers. It was filled to the brim with carefully labeled files. Laid neatly on the top was an envelope.

She removed the letter and began to read.

Within this box is accounting information regarding the human trafficking Jin Guangshan, Mayor of Beijing, is actively protecting and participating in.

Her hand started shaking.

She had been the receptionist for fifteen years. Over that time, she had seen a wide variety of anonymous information dropped at her desk. Ranging from alien take overs of the government to the cover up of deaths caused by poor constuction, she had seen it all. It didn't matter that she wasn't a reporter. She had a good eye for solid information.

She took out the first file. Page after page of carefully documented information.

This was legit.

She placed the letter back in the envelope and gently closed the box.

"Chen-chen? Can you get me a dolly**, please? I need to take this up." Her voice was almost too casual. She didn't dare leave the box for even a second.

"I can take it up." the young man said with a smile.

"No, I need to get my steps in. Move around a bit or I'll turn into a lump!" she laughed. It sounded a little forced. A little odd.

He had laughed in return anyway. "You could never look like a lump!"

But he went to get it for her.

She was beginning to sweat as she took the dolly to the main elevator bank. It was against policy but it was the closest and most public way to do it. Less chance of someone trying to take the information back and hurt her in the process.

She waved off the few people who wanted to join her in the elevator. Smiling apologetically and indicating the dolly.

'Fifteen stories. Fifteen stories and I can drop off this time bomb.' she thought.

The Xinhua News Director's office staff was quite surprised as the receptionist maneuvered her way in with the dolly.

"I need to see the Director." her voice was quite firm. "Now would be best."

"Excuse me?" the secretary asked, flabbergasted at the request.

"I do not ask this lightly. He needs to see this." the woman was dead serious.

The secretary was just shaking her head.

"Then would you give him something? Ask him to read it immediately. It is quite short." the receptionist was beginning to sound desperate.

She opened the box and removed the letter.

"Just ask him to read this. If he doesn't want to see the rest, I'll deliver the box anywhere he wishes."

The secretary checked the time. There was fifteen minutes before the Director's next meeting.

"I'll take it in and see what he has to say." the secretary was still reluctant but what if it really was important?

A soft knock, a muffled voice from within and the secretary slipped into the office.

Three minutes later the Director himself was at his office door.

"Bring it in immediately and tell me everything you know."
-----

The Taxation Administration did not have anonymous packages delivered very often much less boxes of this size.

Tax collectors being a conservative lot, they decided it might be a bomb.

Three hours of frantic police, bomb disposal units, building clearing and dogs sniffing everything they could get a nose into, culminated in the bomb squad slowly opening the box to reveal... papers? Neatly ordered files. With a letter on top.

The bomb squad officer snorted. "Looks like you are good to go. No bomb. Just filing."

His team stripped off the heavy, hot protective gear and filed out with a distinct sense of disappointment leaving a security team looking at the box in curiosity.

One of them picked up the envelope on top and drew the letter out slowly.

His eyes widened as he read the contents. Looking at his fellow security guards, he whispered, "We need someone with a much higher pay grade than us."

It took another hour to get someone to come and even look at the letter.

She was a low level accountant in her second year with The Administration. Her supervisor had sent her down so the security guards would stop calling. She wasn't excited about the prospect but what could she do?

Opening the box protected by several very unsettled security guards, she carefully read the letter. It took a moment to digest the contents.

She removed the first file. Impeccable documentation. Whomever put this information together was an accountant and a damn good one.

Carefully, she returned the file and the letter to the box.

Her mind was whirling. This information needed to go to her immediate supervisor and then to the next - she paused.

'Or directly to Forensic Accounting and their department head.' whispered in her thoughts. This would need to be hush-hush until it was revealed for prosecution.

Working her way up the chain would insure everyone would know within twenty four hours. How long after that until it was spilt to the news?

Feng QiNuo seriously weighed her options. Her direct supervisor was lazy and more than willing to take the credit for his underlings work. Any chance she had of being involved with this case would disappear the minute the box was on his desk.

If the head of Forensics didn't agree with her on the information's importance and kicked it back down to lower levels, her supervisor would make her life hell.

She chewed her lip. 'But if he doesn't then I have an opportunity of a life time. Is it worth the risk?'

When she had been in college, there had been old accountant who taught lower level courses. In every classroom he used there was a sign.

Fortune favors the Brave.

Harsh dark lines in the writing. Bold and clear.

Most students had laughed at it. Accountants? Brave? Nonsense! Why would accountants need to be brave?

She had hesitantly asked one day why the sign was always there.

He had looked at her with tired eyes full of quiet desperation.

"It is something I wish I had known at your age." His voice was resigned to whatever failure had made of him.

"Thank you, sir." she had whispered and fled.

She never forgot that moment. Now, it whispered to her.

She straightened her shoulders.

"Would you carry the box for me, please?" she asked.

"Of course. Where are we going?" the guard said as he hefted the box up into his arms.

"Forensic accounting." she said firmly and led the way.
-----

The China News Agency's main receptionist was sick the day the box was dropped off.

Unnoticed by staff, the temp worker had put it in the main floor work room on a table with a note attached to it with the day and time it came in.

He told one of the people working the desk at the end of his shift where the box was and that it had a note on it when they were ready to open it.

The woman had nodded and said thank you with a wave without actually listening to what she was being told.

So the box sat for over twelve hours. Unattended. Ignored. There was a good chance it would have just been lost if not for a desperate search for more coffee at two in the morning.

A night desk journalist was prowling the dark main floor break room looking for more coffee. They only had one can left. If he took it, they'd realize someone was stealing their coffee.

Maybe the work room had some more stashed inside. He had stumbled through several box piles until he almost dumped one off a table. The top fell off and a letter fluttered to the floor.

Journalists are nothing if not curious.

Within moments, the coffee was forgotten and he was lugging the box back up to his department.

He and the Night Desk Editor drank together. They weren't necessarily friends but found they were comfortable around each other. A glass of bijou in one hand. A cigarette in the other. Not really talking until they were drunk enough to sing karaoke. Badly. They tended to sing sad love songs in the most maudlin manner. Neither ever discussed it with the other.

Or anyone else for that matter.

However, he knew he could take this to the man and he would at least listen.

He thumped the box on the editor's desk.

"You are never gonna believe what I just found."
----

Over two days time, the respective agencies had run the information through the wringer**.

All three unknowingly racing against each other.

The State Taxation Administration had placed agents to keep watch over the mayor and make sure he didn't try to leave while they processed the files at record speed. They had watched in confusion as the mayor's bodyguards had dragged his youngest son out of his building but they had dutifully followed the mayor as he slunk back to his residence.

He hadn't left since.

They took careful note of the servants quietly leaving with suitcases and boxes. Of the journalists and reporters gathering in front of the beautiful building that was The Mayor's Residence. Everything was reported in a timely and precise manner.

The China News Agency had begun the race far behind the others. It took time to call in the right people to ascertain the value of the information as well the accuracy.

They could only watch, as stunned as the rest of Beijing, as the Xinhua News Agency made it's broadcast.

~♡~♡~♡~

A dolly is a device that helps you move heavy boxes. The box is placed on a flat piece at the bottom and the whole device is leaned back so it can be rolled on wheels.

Running something 'through the wringer' indicates it has had everything extracted from it. It started with laundry being put through a wringer to remove as much water as possible so it would dry faster. In my case, they are extracting all the information from it they can.

Thanks for the read through and opinions ChristinaMoldenhauer HUGS! ❤️

Hope all of you are happy, truly happy, with at least one thing today.

HUGE HUGS and Sincerest Thanks!

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PS: If you get the chance, go see Wang Yibo in Hidden Blade. He was amazing!