Chu Yiran spent the entire night writing that work summary.
Six pages long, every piece of data had a source, every conclusion had its basis.
The format was rigorous, the logic clear.
Her goal was simple: to put all the information down on paper so that during the face-to-face report, she could speak less.
The best outcome would be for Shen Yu to skim through the report, ask a couple of questions, and for her to answer with a few “mm-hm”s and “yes”s, finishing within three minutes before leaving.
The next day at 2:30 p.m., she set off early.
She stood in the restroom on the 35th floor for five minutes, checked her appearance, and rinsed her mouth once more.
She didn’t carry her canvas bag, opting instead for a black document folder left by the original owner, which looked more formal.
As the elevator ascended, she mentally rehearsed the possible questions and their corresponding answers.
The receptionist on the 62nd floor already recognized her and directly called Wang Yan on the internal line.
This time, she didn’t have to wait long. Wang Yan appeared a minute later.
“Mr. Shen is in a video conference, which should end in about ten minutes. Please wait in the reception area.”
Chu Yiran sat on the same sofa as last time.
On the coffee table this time was a new magazine, its cover titled “The Battle for the Development Rights of Hecheng’s Portside New District.”
Ten minutes later, Wang Yan came to fetch her.
Chu Yiran followed him into the hallway.
Today, the door to the CEO’s office was closed. Wang Yan knocked twice.
A voice from inside said, “Come in.”
The moment the door opened, Chu Yiran caught a whiff of that woody fragrance.
Shen Yu was sitting in the same spot as last time. On the desk were an additional tablet and two cups of coffee.
One of them had clearly been sipped from, while the other was full.
“Sit.”
Chu Yiran sat down, took the bound work summary out of the document folder, and placed it on the desk with both hands.
“This is the written summary of the administrative department’s external audit coordination work.”
Shen Yu reached over and took it.
As he opened the first page, he casually pushed the full cup of coffee in her direction.
Chu Yiran froze for a second.
“Drink. It’s freshly brewed.”
Chu Yiran didn’t refuse out of false modesty. She softly said thank you, picked up the cup, and took a small sip.
A latte, not sweet, just the right temperature.
Shen Yu flipped through the report at a steady pace, occasionally pausing to examine certain data points.
Chu Yiran sat opposite him, maintaining an upright posture, her gaze fixed on her knees, avoiding his face.
After about four or five minutes, Shen Yu finished the last page.
“Well written.”
Chu Yiran gave a slight nod.
“How much longer until the external audit team issues the official report?”
“Team Leader Chen said about a week.”
Her voice was even more controlled than last time—steady, slightly low, spoken at a measured pace, each word enunciated clearly but without force.
Shen Yu closed the report and placed it on the desk, leaning back in his chair.
His gaze fell on Chu Yiran’s face.
Chu Yiran could feel that gaze; the back of her neck began to tighten.
She kept her eyes lowered, looking at the latte she had only taken one sip from.
“Did you study auditing before?”
The question came somewhat abruptly.
“No.”
Chu Yiran replied, “I simply organized the materials according to the workflow.”
“In your summary, there are two analyses of supplier price discrepancies. The perspective is quite professional, not something an administrative specialist would typically focus on.”
Chu Yiran’s heart skipped a beat.
She had indeed added an extra section of analysis when writing the summary, originally intending to make the report appear more comprehensive, but unexpectedly, it drew attention instead.
“It’s experience I accumulated while helping President Sun with venue price comparisons. After comparing a few more times, you naturally learn how to read them.”
Shen Yu gave a soft “hmm” and didn’t press further on the topic.
But he didn’t say the meeting was over either.
He remained seated there, fingers lightly resting on the cover of the report, seemingly lost in thought.
The office stayed quiet for nearly ten seconds.
Chu Yiran’s heartbeat grew faster and faster during those ten seconds.
Then Shen Yu spoke.
“Is your throat feeling better?”
Chu Yiran picked up her coffee cup and took another sip, using the action to buy herself two seconds of thinking time.
“Much better, thank you for your concern, Mr. Shen.”
Her voice was flatter and more detached than before, as if deliberately filtering out all emotion.
Shen Yu watched her drinking motion and suddenly said something that sent a chill down Chu Yiran’s spine.
“Your voice sounds a bit like a friend of mine.”
The air suddenly felt heavy.
When Chu Yiran placed the coffee cup back on the table, her hand didn’t tremble.
But the moment her fingertips touched the cup, her fingers were ice-cold.
“Is that so?”
She smiled, her voice tinged with a hint of unease. “Maybe this kind of voice tone is quite common.”
Shen Yu didn’t continue.
He simply glanced at her, then shifted his gaze away, reopening another file on the desk.
“Nothing else. You can leave the report here.”
Chu Yiran stood up, gathered her document folder, and said, “Goodbye, Mr. Shen.”
Her steps toward the door were steady, her back ramrod straight.
As her hand touched the doorknob, she clearly felt that the gaze from behind hadn’t yet shifted away.
She pulled the door open and walked out.
The hallway was empty, her footsteps making no sound on the thick carpet.
Wang Yan appeared near the elevator at some point.
“Finished?”
“Yes.”
“Did it go smoothly?”
Chu Yiran thought for a moment and said two words: “It was okay.”
Wang Yan seemed to want to say something but ultimately just smiled and pressed the elevator button for her.
The moment the elevator doors closed, Chu Yiran leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, her throat moving slightly.
“Your voice sounds a bit like someone.”
The sentence echoed repeatedly in her mind.
Shen Yu hadn’t confirmed anything, but he had already made the connection.
From now on, every time she spoke in front of him, she was handing him another piece of the puzzle.
The more pieces he collected, the clearer the full picture would become.
When Chu Yiran returned to her workstation on the thirty-fifth floor, her palms were still cold.
She opened her memo and added two lines under her self-preservation plan:
“Danger level raised. Shen Yu has noticed the similarity in voices.”
“From today onward, absolutely avoid all opportunities to speak in front of Shen Yu.”
“If reporting is required, submit everything in written form.”
After writing, she added another line:
“Must come up with a plan to end the online relationship within a week. Can’t delay any longer.”
She closed the memo, opened her work email, and prepared to tackle the backlog of messages.
At the top of her inbox was a new email, sent fifteen minutes ago.
The sender was a corporate email address she hadn’t seen before, with a domain suffix that wasn’t from Shen Corporation.
The subject line read: “Regarding Certain Facts About Hengyuan Trading Co., Ltd.”
Chu Yiran’s finger hovered over the mouse, hesitating to click.
She stared at the subject line for several seconds, a strong sense of resistance welling up inside her.
The person leaving the notes had changed their method.
They had upgraded from handwritten notes to emails.
She didn’t open the email but dragged it into a separately created folder.
Then she locked her computer, took out her phone, and sent a message to a number she had never proactively contacted before.
“Sister Zhao, do you have a moment to talk?”
Zhao Ling’s reply came quickly.
“After work, at the café downstairs from the company.”
Chu Yiran put down her phone and looked out the window at the gradually darkening sky.
She decided she would no longer passively wait for others to push her into the whirlpool.
She needed to figure out one thing first: who was watching her from the shadows, and what exactly did this person want?