The sun dipped below the horizon, and as the sky gradually darkened, Zhang Fang and the others began packing up their things a little over half an hour before the end of the workday.
Before leaving, Zhang Fang said to Zhu Yun and Li Xun: “Whatever you do, don’t be late tomorrow — there’ll be no one to save you if you are.”
“……”
Zhu Yun noticed they all seemed to be quite afraid of their boss, Dong Siyang. Judging by the overall state of the company, this Director Dong’s management abilities would have to be classified as “extremely poor” — and she couldn’t quite figure out what exactly they were all so afraid of.
“You’re not leaving yet?” Zhao Teng asked Zhu Yun. “Working overtime on your very first day — now that’s dedication.”
Zhu Yun: “I’ll wait a little longer.”
Zhao Teng: “Then let’s order some takeout.”
Zhu Yun: “Thank you, but that’s not necessary — I’m not hungry yet.”
Zhao Teng then turned to Li Xun behind her: “What about you — working overtime too? Do you want dinner? I’ve got a takeout menu here.”
Li Xun shut down his computer and left without a word.
Zhao Teng watched him go, then turned to Zhu Yun. “What’s his problem? You two knew each other before — was he always like this? Just ignoring whatever anyone says to him?”
Zhu Yun tapped at her keyboard. “He was worse than this before.”
Zhao Teng let out a soft “wow,” then said: “Alright, I’m heading out. When you leave, just lock up the door.”
Zhu Yun’s eyes remained fixed on her screen as she replied: “Got it.”
Zhao Teng paused at the doorway and glanced back. Zhu Yun was still staring intently at her computer — her level of focus and seriousness was, in this company… no, in every company he had ever worked at, extraordinarily rare. Zhao Teng had dropped out of high school and taken up programming as a hobby. He had something of a knack for it, though he was too lazy to dig deep, treating it as nothing more than a way to make ends meet — so he had little understanding of people like Zhu Yun, who threw themselves into their work with reckless dedication.
He thought back to her resume. It was nothing short of stunning — dazzling, even. He found it puzzling why she had ended up at a company like theirs. From everything he had seen on her first day, her abilities were every bit as impressive as her credentials suggested.
Was she after something fresh?
Or was she here to experience a different kind of life?
Hard to say how long she’d last…
Zhao Teng was hungry. He tossed all those questions to the back of his mind and happily headed home.
Seven o’clock.
Eight o’clock.
Zhu Yun was the only one left in the office.
She checked the time several times, as though she was waiting for something.
At half past eight, someone arrived — a same-city express courier, his face glistening with sweat from rushing to make the delivery.
“Excuse me, are you Ms. Zhu?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Your package, please sign here.”
Zhu Yun signed the delivery slip. “That’s pretty fast.”
The courier smiled. “Same-city express is basically half a day.”
After the courier left, Zhu Yun returned to her desk and tore open the package. Inside were two sets of graphics cards, hard drives, as well as a CPU and memory sticks. She went to the storage room, dug out a toolbox, and began disassembling Li Xun’s computer case.
This was her first time assembling a desktop computer.
Although she was a computer science student, Zhu Yun was well aware that she had little affinity for hardware — probably because most girls had little interest in the kind of work that involved tearing machines apart and putting them back together.
In Zhu Yun’s mind, assembling a computer should have been a simple matter. After all, there were only so many components — you just had to plug them in properly…
But that “properly” turned out to be the biggest problem of all.
After inserting the CPU and memory into the motherboard, she simply could not get the cooling fan to sit right. More than half an hour had passed with no progress, and she was beginning to feel frustrated. She squared off against the components, downloaded an assembly tutorial on her phone and propped it beside her, then knelt on the floor and got to work. Before long, beads of sweat had gathered on her forehead.
She was so absorbed that she didn’t even notice when someone came through the door.
Li Xun had gone out earlier to grab a bite to eat and smoke a couple of cigarettes. When he returned, the room appeared, at first glance, to be completely empty — because Zhu Yun was practically pressed flat against the floor as she worked, entirely hidden from the sightline of anyone standing in the doorway.
But the lights were on, and Li Xun knew someone had to be inside.
He walked over, and the first thing he saw was Zhu Yun’s rear end.
She was kneeling on the ground, her heels set aside, wrestling with jumper cables and power cords. She had on a white blouse and a grey suit skirt that made her raised backside look round and taut.
From this angle he could see the back of her head, her hair dark and glossy. Li Xun’s gaze drifted downward — her calves were fair-skinned, and her ankles had a delicate, graceful shape.
Had she always looked like this?
Li Xun stood behind her, contemplating in detached silence.
She had always been attractive, though six years ago she had nowhere near the striking allure she possessed now. Back then she kept everything hidden — her beauty hidden, her intelligence hidden, her pain and her resentment hidden too. Whatever she did, she held herself back. The rare times she ever broke through, it took months to build up to.
Zhu Yun was still bent over the computer case, struggling away, when she suddenly heard the sound of a lighter being clicked behind her.
Her body reacted before her mind could — she jerked up, and her head cracked against the underside of the desk. It hurt terribly, but she didn’t dare make a sound, and she didn’t dare touch the spot either.
Her mind swirled with four enormous words:
He — didn’t — leave?
Hadn’t he gone home already…