“Mom, I’m heading out,” Xia Wei shouted to her mother who was busy in the kitchen.
“Not eating breakfast?” Zhou Ci chased after her.
Xia Wei opened the security door, turned her head and said, “Not eating, it’s getting too late.”
Last night she dreamed of her ex-girlfriend again, and once she woke up she couldn’t fall back asleep, tossing and turning in a state between hazy and lucid until dawn.
Zhou Ci hurriedly ran back to pack the eggs and milk for her, stuffing them into Xia Wei’s bag.
On a spring morning, the sunlight was exceptionally gentle, and the breeze was not dry.
Xia Wei took a deep breath, hmm—car exhaust. She lowered her head and walked briskly toward the subway entrance.
The subway was packed with people. Xia Wei leaned against the corner, swiping on her phone, then quietly put her phone back into her pocket. Her gaze swept over the name of the next station—only two stations left.
Following the crowd out, Xia Wei stood downstairs at the building, looking up.
She walked to a corner to check her attire: a white shirt, black suit pants, light makeup that couldn’t hide her superior facial features, and holding a black leather business bag in her hand.
Her printed resume was inside the bag. She stepped forward and entered the interior of the building with the flow of people, registered, and went upstairs.
Xia Wei thought she had arrived early enough, but two young people were already waiting in the lounge.
After a brief nod of greeting, Xia Wei sat in the corner, waiting for the interview notice.
“Your university is just an ordinary undergraduate degree, huh?” The interviewer sat across from Xia Wei, his hairline in a dangerous zone, smiling until the corners of his eyes blossomed into wrinkles. He picked up Xia Wei’s resume, glanced at it twice, and casually put it down.
Xia Wei looked at him, nodded slightly, the corners of her mouth curling up with a light smile: “Since your company went through the resume screening stage and still gave me this interview opportunity without directly eliminating me just because I graduated from an ordinary university, that means what your company values is my practical experience and ability.”
Having said this, Xia Wei paused. She knew the other party wanted to suppress her and test her stress-resistance, so she continued: “I think my personal ability matches your company’s position.”
The interviewer looked at the confidence on Xia Wei’s face, frowned slightly, and glanced outside.
The glass door was not fully closed, and a glamorous figure flashed past.
When Xia Wei left, she glanced at the lounge she had just been in; another five or six people were sitting inside waiting.
The moment her finger was about to touch the elevator button, the tip of her nose twitched. A faint fragrance drifted from her side—not a strong perfume scent, but more like the cool, clean residual scent of fabric softener.
A hand appeared before her eyes, reaching over from her side and pressing the elevator button ahead of her.
That hand was bony and distinct, the joints slender yet not thin, and the skin so transparent it was close to translucent, with the light cyan veins on the back of the hand faintly visible. The fingernails were trimmed very short, round and clean, without any polish.
The movement was crisp and decisive, and the moment her fingertip touched the button, she exerted a tiny bit of force, making a very slight “click” sound.
Clearly, it was just pressing an elevator button, yet it carried an unquestionable briskness.
Xia Wei’s gaze was involuntarily drawn by that hand until it retracted to her side, and only then did she snap back to reality, subconsciously taking half a step back to widen the distance slightly.
She turned her head to look and met the gaze—stunning, cold, four words flashed through her mind.
Does this person walk without a sound? Xia Wei’s gaze moved down slightly: high heels, no sound…
Stepping into the elevator, the two of them stood on opposite sides.
Through the elevator reflection, Xia Wei silently observed the woman, accidentally caught her eye, and instinctively looked away.
This outfit and aura didn’t look like an ordinary employee, and clients certainly wouldn’t come this early, so she could only be senior management.
“Ding”—the first floor had arrived.
Xia Wei paused slightly, letting the other person leave first, but instead she heard: “I’m going to the basement level.”
The voice was clear, but not soft, and she could even sense a trace of difficult-to-get-along-with oppression.
Xia Wei glanced at the basement button that was still lit, gave an awkward smile, and quickly stepped out of the elevator.
She didn’t notice the gaze the other person dropped on her.
Those beautiful eyes carried a trace of exploration and a hint of interest. Song喬 (Song Qiao) long-pressed the basement button, and once it went dark, she pressed the floor she had just come down from back on.
“Director Song, the coffee you wanted has been bought.” As soon as she stepped out of the elevator, someone came out of the neighboring elevator carrying a coffee bag.
“Thank you.” Song Qiao took the coffee and turned to walk toward her office.
The subordinate looked at Song Qiao’s back, then looked at the elevator. Why did Director Song come out of the elevator? She had just watched her walk into her office earlier.
Xia Wei exited the building, didn’t go straight home, and found a park instead; she didn’t want to go back and listen to Zhou Ci nagging.
She opened her phone, jumping back and forth between several apps, not even knowing what she wanted to look at, and finally closed her phone, tilting her head back to feel the warmth of the sunlight shining on her face.
It’s just that this peace didn’t last long before her phone rang.
“Hello, Mom, what’s up?” It was Zhou Ci calling.
“Coming back for dinner?”
“Coming.”
Xia Wei looked at the time; it was almost time to go back.
Hanging up the phone, Xia Wei walked toward the nearby subway station, her intuition telling her that this interview was a bust.
In the afternoon, feeling drowsy, Xia Wei changed into pajamas, lay on the bed, cut off all external noise, and closed her eyes to rest.
Song Qiao looked through the list of prospective assistant candidates sent by Human Resources, flipping through them expressionlessly, one by one.
“Just these?” She raised her eyes.
HR replied softly, “Mm, these few stand out more.”
Song Qiao let out a light hum, placed the documents back on the desk without being too heavy or too light, and looked down her nose at him: “Bring me the resumes of everyone who came for an interview today.”
“This…” HR showed a look of difficulty.
Song Qiao’s gaze scraped over like a knife. She didn’t speak, just quietly stared at him.
Cold sweat seeped from HR’s temples, and he braced himself to say, “There’s no need to look at those, right, Director Song? You can trust how our HR department does things…”
“Tsk.”
Song Qiao impatiently interrupted him. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was as cold as freezing ice: “Since Director Wang fell ill, the people under him can’t even be managed anymore.”
She pushed the documents in front of her forward slightly—the movement wasn’t big, but HR instinctively took half a step back. “I said all of them.”
“Yes, I’ll go get them right now.” HR hurriedly replied, quickly retreating.
Song Qiao leaned back into her chair, raised a hand to support her forehead, a trace of coldness flashing in the depths of her eyes.
The people HR recommended? How could she dare use them again?
A moment later, someone else walked in carrying a thick stack of resumes.
Song Qiao stood up, picked them up one by one, glanced at them, put them down, picked up another, her movements crisp and decisive, without a shred of hesitation.
Until Xia Wei’s photo appeared before her eyes.
Song Qiao’s fingertips paused, she pulled out that resume, her gaze landing on the ID photo, and the corners of her mouth twitched imperceptibly.
“Xia Wei.” She handed the resume out, her voice as flat as if she were talking about the most mundane thing in the world: “Have her come to work tomorrow.”
The person who took it was about to open their mouth to respond when Song Qiao had already sat back down, her gaze falling onto the computer screen. They had no choice but to silently pack up the resumes on the desk, lighten their movements as they left, and only realized after coming out that their back was covered in cold sweat.
No wonder she had an intern deliver the materials; this Director Song truly lived up to her reputation…
Jade-faced Rakshasa.
A gentle breeze passed through the window and blew into Xia Wei’s bedroom, spun around, and went back out.
Xia Wei stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. A few minutes ago, she had been woken up by Zhou Ci’s phone call.
She could vaguely hear her mother’s conversation on the phone with her aunt, which was nothing more than saying she had been idle at home for half a year, had become quiet, spent all day at home without going out, and was practically going to grow mold.
Xia Wei covered her ears, wanting to hide back under the blanket.
Two years after graduating, she had successively experienced job loss and heartbreak—no, it should be said she suffered heartbreak first, then job loss.
Because of a relationship, she stayed to work in the university city, and because of a breakup, she left that city.
“Weiwei… Weiwei, say something. It doesn’t look right for you to stay at home all day doing nothing. Now that it’s spring and flowers are blooming, it’s just the right time to fa—to fall in love,” Zhou Ci said on the phone, not caring whether Xia Wei in the room was awake or not, shouting directly while banging on the door.
Xia Wei pulled the blanket over herself and rolled over to hide.
That’s right, when she first came back, Zhou Ci had sensed something was wrong. After several rounds of interrogation, Xia Wei spilled everything.
Zhou Ci accepted it quite well; only her father, Xia Yiyuan, was so angry he ended up hospitalized for two days, looking up to the sky and sighing, crying that there was a problem with the family genetics.
Her aunt had eloped with a woman back then, literally scaring her grandfather to death.
Of course, Xia Wei didn’t believe that, especially since she found her grandfather’s medical record at home, which clearly stated late-stage lung cancer.
“Weiwei… Weiwei, say something. Your aunt said there’s a pretty lady on her side who also likes girls. Do you want to go meet her?” Zhou Ci kept banging on the door while talking.
Xia Wei couldn’t take it anymore and was just about to get up to fight back when her phone suddenly rang.
An unfamiliar landline number.
She glanced at the screen, hesitated for two seconds, and still answered it.
“Hello, is this Ms. Xia Wei? This is the HR department of Shengheng Group. Congratulations on passing the interview. Please bring the relevant materials to the company tomorrow to complete the onboarding procedures…”
The voice on the other end mechanically read through the process. Xia Wei froze for a moment, instinctively wanting to say something, opened her mouth, but then felt there was nothing much to ask.
“Okay, thank you. I’ll be there on time tomorrow,” she heard herself say.
The other side politely said goodbye and hung up the phone.
Xia Wei stared at the phone screen for a few seconds; that unfamiliar number had already gone dark.
She couldn’t describe what she felt—it wasn’t joy, nor could it be considered disappointment, feeling just like someone throwing a pebble into a calm body of water, rippling twice before returning to stillness.
Fine then, having a job is better than not having a job.
Outside the door, Zhou Ci was still chatting with her sister while smilingly patting Xia Wei’s door: “Weiwei, say something. Your aunt said the other person is still an older sister, and Mom sees on the internet that you guys all like older sisters…”
Xia Wei stood up holding her phone and pulled open the door.
Zhou Ci’s hand, which had been patting the door, almost landed on her shoulder.
“Mom,” Xia Wei said, “you don’t need to find me a partner.”
Zhou Ci froze. Before she even had time to ask, she heard Xia Wei lazily append the second half: “I got a job, I don’t have time to date.”
After saying that, Xia Wei walked past her toward the living room, her steps unhurried, showing no trace of excitement.
Zhou Ci hung up the phone and chased after her. Xia Wei was standing in front of the dining table, tilting her head back and gulping down water.
“You passed your interview today, then? Weiwei?” Zhou Ci leaned in close, her tone testing.
Xia Wei put down the water cup and nodded.
“Then you came back looking all gloomy, making me not even dare ask you.” Zhou Ci raised her hand and slapped Xia Wei on the back, the force neither light nor heavy.
Xia Wei was pushed forward, the water in her cup sloshing as well. She twitched the corners of her mouth and didn’t respond.
She clearly felt that the interviewer was dissatisfied with her, or rather, today’s interview was just a formality to fill a spot as a foil for someone else.
Well, whatever, she’d just go check it out first.
Sleeping that night, Xia Wei remarkably didn’t dream of her ex-girlfriend, but she did dream of the woman from the elevator during the day.
However, it was certainly not a good dream; in the dream, that pretty woman turned into a female ghost, haunting her persistently and refusing to leave.
Before dawn, Xia Wei woke up—to be exact, she was scared awake. Wiping the sweat from her neck, she threw off the covers and got out of bed.
Zhou Ci wasn’t up yet. Her father, Xia Yiyuan, had taken her grandmother out visiting relatives. Zhou Ci originally planned to go too, but worried about Xia Wei being home alone, she stayed behind.
Hearing movement, Zhou Ci thought a thief had broken into the house, hurriedly got up, picked up a broom from the corner, and crept along the wall toward the kitchen.
“Ah—” Xia Wei’s hand holding the plate shook, almost dropping the fried egg.
“Mom, what are you doing?” Xia Wei’s heart was pounding wildly.
“I should be asking what you are doing. Not sleeping in the middle of the night, what are you coming to the kitchen for?” Zhou Ci put down the broom.
Xia Wei swallowed: “Look at what time it is, the sky is almost bright, and you call this the middle of the night.” With that, she carried the plate out.
While Zhou Ci washed up, Xia Wei sat at the dining table eating breakfast.
By the time Zhou Ci came out again, Xia Wei was already putting on her shoes. Walking over, Zhou Ci gently exhorted, “When you get to the new company, work hard…” Then feeling this put too much pressure on her, she changed tune: “If you can’t hack it, you don’t have to work. Anyway, the family can afford to support you.”
Xia Wei was hooking her foot into her shoe, and hearing Zhou Ci’s words, her eye sockets turned sour. She sniffed: “Mom…” dragging out her ending syllable.
“Go on, don’t be late on your first day of work.” Seeing that Xia Wei genuinely looked like she might not go, Zhou Ci hurried and pushed her out, closing the security door.
Xia Wei looked at the tightly shut door, blinking her eyes. As expected, mothers are still great at tricking kids.
On her first day of work, someone from the HR department met Xia Wei downstairs, took her upstairs, processed her employee ID badge, and then introduced her direct supervisor, Director Song Qiao.
“Director Song is quite rigorous when it comes to work, so her demands are high. You need to prepare yourself.” The person who showed Xia Wei around the company was yesterday’s intern, kindly offering a warning.
Xia Wei naturally heard the subtext and nodded slightly.
After briefly交代 (giving a couple of instructions), the intern led Xia Wei toward the product promotion department.
When the department colleagues saw someone from HR leading in a tall girl with exceptionally superior facial features, they all raised their heads.
As soon as Xia Wei entered, the older employees outside immediately slid their chairs over and whispered in discussion.
“How long do you think this little girl can last?”
“Ever since that previous person backstabbed Director Song, four or five people have come and gone, and none of them lasted even three days.”
“This one looks like she just graduated not long ago, probably won’t cut it.”
“I bet a pack of spicy strips, one day.”
“A lunch meal, I bet three days.”
Xia Wei could no longer care about the discussions outside.
She only saw the female ghost she had chased in her dreams all night long, overlapping with the figure of the woman sitting opposite her, and her heart began to flutter with fear.
This is way too coincidental.
Song Qiao’s gaze moved from the computer screen to Xia Wei.
Not just looking, but sizing her up.
From top to bottom, then from bottom to top, finally stopping on Xia Wei’s face as if confirming something.
Xia Wei was looked at until her spine felt cold, and she instinctively stood up straight.
“This is Director Song. Director Song, this is your new assistant,” the intern said, after which the air fell quiet for two seconds.
Song Qiao didn’t answer. Her gaze still lingered on Xia Wei, her fingers lightly tapping the desk—not heavy, but exceptionally clear in the quiet office.
The intern tactfully retreated and closed the door behind her.
The moment the door closed, Xia Wei felt the air pressure in the entire office drop by several notches.
Her brain was still spinning with the absurd thought of “Why is the female ghost from last night’s dream sitting right here?”, and the expression on her face was probably less than natural.
Song Qiao finally spoke.
“Xia Wei.”
When she uttered this name, her tone was flat, like she was reading an insignificant manuscript.
But Xia Wei noticed her gaze linger on her face for an extra second.
“Present,” Xia Wei replied.
Song Qiao didn’t speak again, just tilted her head slightly; the corners of her mouth seemed to move, or perhaps they didn’t.
That expression couldn’t be called satisfied or dissatisfied, looking more like some kind of… confirmation.
Confirming what? Xia Wei didn’t know.
She only knew that the oppression coming from this woman in front of her was even stronger than yesterday in the elevator.
Yesterday they were separated by two steps; today they were separated by a desk, but that desk might as well not have existed.
Song Qiao withdrew her gaze, looked back at the computer screen, her tone as flat as describing the weather: “Your workstation is outside. Go find HR to pick up your computer.”
Xia Wei froze for a moment, realizing this meant instructions were over.
“Okay.” She turned to walk out. Just as her hand touched the doorknob, the voice came from behind again—
“By the way.”
Xia Wei looked back.
Song Qiao didn’t raise her head, her gaze still fixed on the screen, fingers tapping on the keyboard as if mentioning it casually: “Your answers during the interview the other day were pretty good.”
It sounded like praise, but there wasn’t any praise to be heard in her tone.
Before Xia Wei could figure out how to respond, Song Qiao was already back to typing on the keyboard, clearly not intending to wait for her answer.
Xia Wei pulled open the door and stepped out.
The moment the door closed behind her, she let out a long breath.
The surrounding air pressure had finally returned to normal.
Inside the door, Song Qiao stopped typing and raised her eyes to look at the closed door.
She thought of that face in the elevator yesterday—standing in the corner, quiet and still, carrying an indescribable air of weariness.
She didn’t look like someone coming for an interview; she looked more like she was just going through the motions.
Yet the things she said during the interview didn’t sound like something someone just going through the motions could say.
Song Qiao withdrew her gaze, continued tapping the keyboard, the corners of her mouth curling up imperceptibly.