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From Spoiled Rich Kid to Corporate Intern: Earning Respect
墨書 Inktalez
The cold, pale light from the monitor reflected off my workstation as I adjusted the cheap black-framed glasses I had bought on Taobao, the lenses smudged with fingerprints.
The central air conditioning above me hummed as it blew out cold air. I stared at the computer screen, my fingers tapping away at the final section of the competitive analysis report.
Suddenly, a hand with blood-red nails appeared in my line of sight. The sound of her long nails tapping against my plastic folder was as jarring as shattered glass.
The strong scent of Dior J'adore perfume invaded my nostrils, making my throat tighten uncomfortably, forcing me to subtly shift away.
"Young Master Shen's breakfast is so simple~," she said, leaning in closer to my sandwich with her lips painted in a striking shade of red. She playfully peeled back a corner of the plastic wrap, her tone dripping with obvious sarcasm.
"Whole wheat bread with lettuce? Should I share half of my Wagyu sandwich with you~?" She elongated the last syllable enticingly, her diamond-studded manicure brushing away the last crumbs on my document.
Laughter came from the adjacent workstation as Zhang Zhiqiang sauntered over with his thermos cup always filled with goji berries and chrysanthemum tea.
His hand slapped down on my shoulder—rough and hot, slick with a layer of sweat. "Hey, Xiao Wang, remember that connection in the marketing department from last year?"
Zhang Zhiqiang spoke loudly enough for the entire office to hear. "He doesn't even know how to use the PPT zoom shortcut. I heard his dad gifted Manager Wang a BMW—"
Suddenly, the copier emitted a loud jammed paper sound, cutting him off mid-sentence.
I silently walked over to pull out the jammed sheet, inadvertently brushing my sleeve against some toner.
Zhang Zhiqiang's laughter abruptly halted, as if someone had choked him. "Xiao Shen, is that shirt from Uniqlo's sale?"
Lin Xueyao suddenly bent down, leaning close to my collar, the expensive Swarovski swan pendant swaying in front of me, nearly brushing against my chin.
"There's a coffee stain here," she said, her breath carrying the scent of perfume, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.
"What are you chatting about so lively?" a deep voice came from behind.
The sound of polished shoes striking the floor stopped right behind me, and the clattering of keyboards in the open office suddenly intensified like raindrops falling.
Lin Xueyao's lace skirt flared out over half a meter, creating a whirlwind of fragrance, while the mahjong sound effect from Zhang Zhiqiang's phone was abruptly cut off, as if someone had snapped its neck.
Wang Mingyuan's long fingers tapped out a rhythm on the partition of my workstation, as if he were calculating something.
He picked up my competitive analysis report marked with red and blue annotations, and a glint of cold light flashed behind his glasses. "The confidentiality level of last week's acquisition case is A-level."
He rolled the document into a tube and lightly tapped it against his palm, his tone carrying an undeniable authority. "This report shouldn't be appearing at an intern's workstation unless..."
As I turned my neck, I heard a faint crack from my cervical spine, as if something had snapped.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the glass facade of Jin Mao Tower sliced the midday sunlight into sharp daggers, piercing my eyes painfully.
Manager Wang had a corner of a fountain pen peeking out from his suit pocket; the pattern on its cap was a totem recognizable only by board members.
"I'll see you in the printer room." As he passed by me, he elegantly removed the pen and tucked it into his breast pocket. "Make sure to bring your USB drive."
The central air conditioning whined as it carried away the last trace of perfume. I felt the metal USB drive with a checkered pattern in my pocket, and the beads of sweat on my throat had already turned cold.
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