The man a few steps away hadn’t actually done anything. He was just lounging in a leather chair, posture not even properly upright, and he hadn’t adopted a single threatening stance.
But simply by sitting there, he shattered the calm of this bright, orderly office—turning steel and concrete into a wild, dangerous jungle. He was like a predator who could leap forward at any moment and snap someone’s neck clean through.
No ordinary young man raised in a peaceful environment carried an aura like that. Even the infamous “Mad Fist”—said to have killed two people with a single knee strike—had never made Qi Ji feel anything close to this level of threat.
Qi Ji thought, This man has definitely seen blood.
His unusual past had sharpened his instincts. Only someone who’d fought for his life—who’d struggled against men with nothing to lose—could sense this suffocating, bone-deep killing intent. The kind that burrowed straight into the spine and scraped it raw. Even keeping up his usual obedient façade felt nearly impossible.
He almost bit through the tip of his tongue just to suppress the trembling and force himself back into calm.
Clawing reason back from the mud of fear, Qi Ji finally noticed there was also a short-haired, slightly plump woman standing by the desk.
He had seen photos of the design director before—so he wasn’t in the wrong office.
Director Wu had been here the whole time. Qi Ji had simply been so overwhelmed by the young man that he hadn’t noticed her at all.
His voice came out respectful—with a stiffness he couldn’t fully hide.
“Sorry to interrupt. I’m here to see Director Wu.”
Director Wu stood beside her own desk, while the young, dangerous man sat in her large office chair. When Qi Ji worked with HR earlier, he’d skimmed the employee database—but had never seen this face.
Thinking back to what his seniors mentioned at lunch, a guess began to form.
This must be the newly parachuted CEO.
Except he looked nothing like the rumors described. Not a trace of the spoiled, idle arrogance—just crushing pressure that stole the air from Qi Ji’s lungs.
He belatedly realized the back of his neck was cold—he’d broken into a thin layer of sweat without noticing.
What confused him most was that he was certain he had never seen the man before—yet the man seemed to have been watching him from the moment he came in.
Which was why that oppressive weight was focused squarely on him, while Director Wu remained oblivious.
That gaze—silent and unwavering—never once lifted. Even with his eyes lowered, Qi Ji could still feel exactly where it rested on him.
Only when Director Wu finally spoke did the tension break.
“And you are?”
She looked him over, clearly puzzled.
Some of the pressure eased. “Hello, I’m Qi Ji from Operations Team D.”
His voice was naturally soft, and now that he’d steadied himself, he sounded even more polite and well-mannered.
“Oh, right. It’s three already?” Director Wu blinked.
She’d scheduled another appointment.
The brief exchange dissipated the stagnant air in the room. Everything was finally returning to normal—when the back of Qi Ji’s neck suddenly tightened again.
Then he heard that low, magnetic voice—this time with a hint of amusement.
“So…” The man curved a slight smile, the first trace of the rumored playboy nonchalance showing between his sharp features. “We’re hiring minors now?”
It was clearly a teasing jab, but even Director Wu seemed to waver.
She asked, “Qi Ji, right? I remember your résumé saying you’re already an adult?”
With that face, anyone would double-check.
Qi Ji nodded, lowering his eyes in a polite gesture. “Yes, Director. I’m a senior in college.”
Director Wu relaxed. “Good.”
Then she turned to the man. “Mr. Pei, all our hires follow proper contract procedures.”
Qi Ji kept his head down and didn’t see the man’s expression. He only heard Director Wu turn back to him. “Qi, I still have things to finish. Come back in a bit.”
But before she finished, the man cut her off.
“No need.” He rose from the chair. “I should get going. You two carry on.”
Qi Ji had deliberately looked away, but the moment the man moved, his attention snapped back uncontrollably.
And when the man stood, Qi Ji realized he was even taller than he’d assumed.
Taller men often lacked stability—more looks than power. But seeing this one rise didn’t ease Qi Ji’s guard at all.
In fact, Qi Ji couldn’t find a single flaw on him. He’d grown used to scanning every person for weaknesses—he did it unconsciously, even with coworkers.
But this man was different. Impossible to read.
And that made the pressure worse.
Director Wu made to see him out, but he stopped her.
He walked alone toward the door—wearing a charcoal-grey suit that fit perfectly, the fabric carrying a sheen Qi Ji could tell at a glance he couldn’t afford. As he approached, a faint scent drifted over.
Qi Ji didn’t know anything about colognes. But the moment he caught that scent, one thought flashed through his mind—
fire.
They passed each other. The man lowered his gaze, his look falling soundlessly.
He was so much taller that from this angle he could clearly see the crown of Qi Ji’s head—the soft hair, lighter in color, catching the light like fine strands of silk.
It looked… touchably soft.
His leather shoes clicked against the polished floor. A few long seconds later, the distant sound of the office door closing echoed behind him.
Clack.
Qi Ji’s tense body finally unclenched. Then he noticed—even Director Wu had quietly let out a breath.
Apparently, dealing with the newly arrived CEO wasn’t easy for anyone.
“You brought your portfolio?”
The leather chair creaked slightly as she sat. Her soft, round arms rested on the armrests, and suddenly the office felt normal again.
“I did.”
Qi Ji stepped forward and handed over the thick portfolio.
“Come, sit.”
She gestured to the small sofa beside her.
Chen Zixuan was right—Director Wu really did have a great personality. Warm, smiling, and gentle. As she flipped through the pages, she chatted with him casually.
Qi Ji majored in software engineering. Visual design was something he taught himself. Even as a hobby, his three compiled volumes of work included plenty of commercial projects.
Director Wu was clearly pleased. After reviewing the portfolio, she asked about his skills and design philosophy—essentially a mini interview. When they finished, she made the decision on the spot.
“We just took on a new project and we’re short on people. I might transfer you over. I’ll talk to HR. For now, head back and wait for updates, all right? We should have a decision in three days.”
He wasn’t officially onboard yet, so transferring him would be easy.
Qi Ji accepted the portfolio with both hands. “Okay. Thank you, Director.”
Leaving the office, he checked the time.
3:40 PM.
Not even an hour.
The hallway was quiet as he returned to the half-open window. Late-autumn wind swept in, the gray-white sky thick like unbroken fog. Skyscrapers towered beneath him, traffic crawling endlessly through the gloom.
The wind hit his dried cold sweat, raising a shiver from deep inside.
Qi Ji gripped the metal window frame. The cold edge pressed sharp red marks into his palms.
That man—
the one they called Mr. Pei…
It felt like he had ripped open Qi Ji’s disguise with a single glance, and the unease had been spreading wildly ever since.
Nearing four, Qi Ji returned to the operations office. The moment he stepped inside, he found his coworkers preparing to order afternoon tea.
Yuntu’s benefits were excellent—monthly food stipends and fully covered tea-time expenses. Not long after they placed the order, the delivery call came.
“Alright, I’m heading down now.”
Delivery workers couldn’t enter the building freely, so staff had to retrieve the orders themselves. Today was Qi Ji’s turn. He grabbed his jacket and was about to go when the colleague at the next desk stopped him.
“Wait, Qi, I’ll go with you.”
Qi Ji asked, “Got something downstairs, Lin?”
“No.” Lin laughed. “I’m just afraid you won’t be able to lift it alone.”
Others overheard and chimed in. “Yeah, Qi, the whole box is heavy.”
With those slim arms and long legs, he looked like he’d snap in half.
Qi Ji hesitated, then murmured a thank-you. Together, he and Lin carried the packed box of drinks and pastries upstairs.
After the distribution, everyone got exactly what they ordered. A colleague across from him, already handing him something without checking, let out a dramatic gasp.
“Qi Ji! How’d you know what I ordered? Be honest—do you secretly like me? Have you been watching me?”
The guy was always theatrical. He even leaned over the divider, reaching out as if to sling an arm around Qi Ji’s neck.
Seeing that hand about to touch him, Qi Ji’s fingers tightened around the last two slices of cake.
“What nonsense,” another coworker cut in, smacking the dramatic one on the back of the head. “If that were true, Qi would have to like everyone in this department.”
After teaching the guy a lesson, Lin turned to Qi Ji.
“Need any more help?”
“Thanks, Lin-ge. That’s everything. Here—this one’s yours.”
Qi Ji handed him the drink, his movements already back to their usual calm, the stiffness from earlier nowhere to be seen.
Once everything was distributed, the last items he pulled from the box were his own—strawberry cream and a strawberry chiffon roll.
His anemia always made him a bit lightheaded, so he tried to eat sweets when he could. Honestly, if the company didn’t reimburse these, he wouldn’t buy them for himself at all.
He went downstairs to return the delivery box, and by the time he came back up, the office was buzzing. The air felt almost heavy with the smell of sugary pastries.
A few girls were chatting together. One was complaining:
“Let me tell you, my boyfriend is unbelievable. He said he’d buy flowers for my desk—great, right? Last time he got me this plain-looking bunch of jasmine, and I scolded him for it. So this time he buys pink roses. Fine. But the store added baby’s breath and greenery, and he told them to take all of it out. He even cut off the leaves. Then he delivered this bald bunch of roses and claimed, ‘See? It’s all flowers now, not plain at all.’ I swear, I can’t deal with him!”
In front of her sat a vase of blooming pink roses—gorgeous color, but the bare stems sticking up made the whole thing look oddly stark.
She huffed a laugh. “Seriously, does this look good to anyone?”
The group broke into giggles. Someone tried to comfort her.
“At least he bought you flowers—he’s trying. Straight guys, you know… maybe he honestly thought it looked better this way. You can’t really blame him.”
The girl shook her head. “Nope. Can’t pin this one on straight-man logic.”
Qi Ji happened to walk by just then, and she called out immediately:
“Xiao Qi, look at this bouquet. Do you think it’s pretty?”
He glanced over. “The roses themselves are nice… but um, they look kind of… bald?”
The group burst out laughing. The girl gave a triumphant “See? I told you!”
Qi Ji thought for a second, then walked over and picked up the vase to take a closer look.
“Wei-jie, do you still have the jasmine from last time?”
“It’s in the bag the roses came in. I was about to throw it out. Why?”
“Mind if I use it?”
She brought the bag over. Qi Ji opened it and found exactly what he expected—green leaves still intact, several stems even had unopened buds. Jasmine was hardy; give it water and it could last ages.
He sorted through the bundle, set aside the wilted stems, plucked off any spent petals. Then he separated the remaining jasmine and roses, trimmed the stems with scissors, and reassembled the bouquet from scratch.
Arranging flowers wasn’t hard, but it was easy to get wrong—especially with two solid colors like this, which tended to look stiff. Qi Ji’s steps weren’t complicated, but his hands were steady and sure. In no time, a new bouquet took shape—varied in height, balanced in density, lush green leaves framing soft pink roses, with delicate white jasmine peeking through.
Compared to the sad, bare roses from before, it was instantly brighter and more refined.
When he handed it back, the girl almost didn’t recognize her own flowers.
“Oh my god, Xiao Qi! If I hadn’t watched you do this, I’d think you bought a brand-new bouquet of pink roses!”
The others were just as surprised.
“You know how to arrange flowers?”
“No,” Qi Ji rubbed the tip of his nose, looking a little embarrassed by all the praise. “It’s just some simple color matching. Nothing hard.”
He added, “By the way, Wei-jie—if you’ve got a vitamin C tablet, drop one into the vase. It’ll help the flowers last longer.”
She nodded quickly. Someone else chimed in, “Xiao Qi, you know so much.”
Qi Ji gave a soft smile. “I used to design exhibition booths for a florist company. They told me a lot of this stuff.”
“Ai…” the girl sighed as she rummaged through her bag for vitamin C. “How can the difference between straight men be this huge…”
Qi Ji didn’t get a chance to reply. His phone vibrated in his pocket.
He checked the screen, expression unchanged. “Sorry, I need to take this.”
Everyone waved him off. “Go ahead, you’re busy.”
Qi Ji stepped away, heading into the break room attached to the office.
The room was small. The slanting afternoon sun cut the space cleanly into light and shadow.
He answered the call. A rough, gravelly voice came through:
“Final match starts at nine-thirty tonight. Ring Four.”
“Car will pick you up an hour earlier. Send me your address.”
Qi Ji lowered his eyes and answered quietly.
Then the line went dead, leaving the break room in silence again.
Outside the door, laughter exploded—his coworkers talking and joking, the sound warm and bright. Qi Ji stood with his back to the door, that thin panel separating him from the world outside—two stark, irreconcilable halves.
He stood where the sunlight didn’t reach, his tall, slender frame swallowed up by shadow. Head bowed, he watched the line between light and dark blur in his vision. The grey-black shade thickened, turning into icy water that surged up around him, soaking into his bones.
Every match meant a new venue. It was the fourth time he’d received this kind of call.
This was the final one.
If he could win tonight… the prize money would keep him afloat a little longer.
His fingers felt stiff from the cold tension. Moving slowly, he pulled out his other phone.
A clunky old brick model—big buttons, scuffed edges, every inch of it showing its age. The only good thing about it was its oversized text.
But today, the yellowing screen looked monstrous, the characters huge and almost feral—like they were clawing at the glass, ready to break free.
[Unknown Number: Debt Collection Notice]
Twenty floors above, another tall, sharp-figured man was also taking a call.
“Mom, I’m here.”
“Mm. I’ll come home for dinner tonight. And I’ll bring that plush toy Xiaoxi wanted.”
He hit speakerphone, stood up, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.
From here, half the glittering, sleepless city stretched beneath him.
A soft, elegant voice drifted through the phone.
“Yusheng, how do you feel about the company?”
At the same time, a faint rustling came from the ornate cat crate nearby.
Inside, a ragdoll kitten had woken up, letting out two tiny, milky mews.
“Miuw~”
Pei Yusheng turned his gaze. Through the mesh of the crate, all he saw was a little ball of white fluff.
She was a female ragdoll kitten, bred from two show champions. Flying her in alone cost a small fortune—the perfect gift for a child.
Yusheng never had much interest in overly delicate creatures. But right now, in the fading light, the little puff of fur sat bathed in gold, soft and warm, glowing gently in the sunset.
The white fluff shimmered with a pale, honey-toned sheen.
It looked… uncannily like the texture of that boy’s hair from this afternoon.
“The company?”
Pei Yusheng’s lips curved, a faint smile touching the edges. His light-colored eyes gleamed, sharp and clear in the evening glow.
“It’s interesting.”