Shen Yuqi arrived at the building ten minutes early.
She stood across the street, staring up at the towering glass structure that reflected the morning sky, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. People walked past her—employees with confident strides, heels clicking, phones pressed to ears, conversations flowing easily. Everyone looked like they belonged.
She didn't.
At least, that was how it felt.
She took a deep breath and crossed the street, stepping into the building that would decide the direction of her life from this day onward. The lobby swallowed her whole—vast, quiet, gleaming with marble and steel. It smelled faintly of coffee and something expensive she couldn't name.
She adjusted her badge nervously.
First day, she reminded herself. Don't mess it up.
The receptionist barely glanced up when Shen Yuqi introduced herself, only pointing her toward HR with practiced politeness. The efficiency was intimidating. Everything here moved with purpose, and she could already feel the pressure settling onto her shoulders.
Orientation passed quickly, but none of it truly entered her mind. Her thoughts kept drifting—to the office on the top floor, to a man with calm gray eyes, to the way he had looked at her during the interview as though he were seeing through her instead of at her.
Or worse—seeing nothing at all.
When HR finally handed her a slim folder and told her she'd be reporting directly to the CEO, Shen Yuqi's heart gave a sharp, nervous beat.
So soon.
Her desk was placed just outside the executive office—clean, minimal, intimidatingly close. She sat down carefully, smoothing her skirt, afraid that even breathing too loudly would draw attention.
"New assistant?"
She looked up quickly.
The woman standing beside her smiled openly, eyes kind and curious. "I'm Wang Zihan. Don't worry—you look less terrified than I did on my first day."
Shen Yuqi let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "I'm Shen Yuqi. It's nice to meet you."
"You'll survive," Wang Zihan said cheerfully. "Just remember—don't take things personally. Especially him."
Him.
As if summoned by the thought, the door to the executive office opened.
Shen Yuqi's breath caught.
Li Wei stepped out.
He wore a dark suit, tailored perfectly, his expression calm and distant. Conversations around them seemed to quiet instinctively, as if the office itself reacted to his presence. He didn't look around. Didn't pause.
His gaze slid past Shen Yuqi like she wasn't even there.
Not a flicker of recognition.
Not a trace of memory.
Her heart sank so suddenly it almost hurt.
He really doesn't remember me.
Or maybe—
He's pretending not to.
She couldn't tell which possibility unsettled her more.
At exactly ten thirty, her work phone vibrated.
Come to my office.
No greeting. No explanation.
Her fingers stiffened as she stood. She smoothed her hair, straightened her shoulders, and walked toward the door with steps that felt too loud, too uncertain.
She knocked.
"Come in."
The office was larger than she expected, flooded with light from floor-to-ceiling windows. Li Wei stood near the desk, reviewing documents, posture relaxed yet commanding. He didn't look up immediately.
The silence stretched.
Finally, he spoke. "You're Shen Yuqi."
Not a question.
"Yes, CEO Li."
He nodded slightly, as if acknowledging a fact of little importance. "Sit."
She did.
He flipped through a file, movements unhurried, almost lazy. Each page turn felt deliberate. Shen Yuqi sat stiffly, hands folded in her lap, heart pounding against her ribs.
"Your resume is adequate," he said at last. "Your interview answers were… acceptable."
Acceptable.
The word stung more than she expected.
"You'll manage my schedule, meetings, and correspondence. Efficiency matters more than intention. I don't tolerate repeated mistakes."
"I understand."
He finally looked at her then.
His eyes were exactly as she remembered—cool, steady, unreadable. But there was something else now. Distance sharpened into formality. Whatever brief connection she thought existed between them before was gone, buried beneath layers of professionalism.
Or carefully hidden.
"You seem nervous," he said casually.
Her lips parted before she could stop herself. "I just don't want to disappoint—"
"That's irrelevant," he interrupted calmly. "Results matter. Not feelings."
Her throat tightened.
"Yes, CEO Li."
He handed her a folder. "Prepare the agenda for this afternoon's board meeting. Thirty minutes."
She accepted it with both hands. "I'll do it right away."
As she stood to leave, his voice stopped her again.
"Shen Yuqi."
She turned.
"For clarity," he said, tone neutral, "we haven't met before."
The words landed heavier than they should have.
"…Yes," she replied softly.
She walked out with her back straight, but the moment the door closed behind her, her breath trembled.
He remembered.
He had to.
And yet, he chose to erase it.
She worked through lunch, double-checking every detail, correcting herself before anyone else could. The pressure didn't ease—it sharpened her focus instead. She refused to be seen as incompetent. Refused to be dismissed.
Wang Zihan peeked over the divider. "Survived your first meeting?"
Shen Yuqi managed a smile. "Barely."
Across the office, Chen Xiaotong watched quietly, her gaze sharp and measuring. Shen Yuqi felt it but chose to ignore it. She had no energy for office politics—not today.
When she delivered the completed agenda, Li Wei scanned it silently.
A pause.
Then, "This is fine."
Relief washed through her so strongly her knees nearly weakened.
As she turned to leave, he added, almost absentmindedly, "You adapt quickly."
Her heart skipped.
"Thank you, CEO Li."
He didn't respond.
But as she closed the door, Shen Yuqi felt it—an unmistakable sensation at her back, as if his eyes lingered just a second longer than necessary.
And in that quiet moment, one truth settled deep in her chest:
This wasn't indifference.
It was distance—chosen distance.
And whatever lay behind it… was far more dangerous than simple forgetfulness.