Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The scent of Lin Xueyao's perfume invaded the office three minutes before the morning meeting while I was rinsing my coffee cup in the pantry. The sterilizer reflected her silhouette as she brushed her hair back, and the newly replaced nail on her right ring finger conveniently blocked the surveillance camera.
"Brother Shen Mo~" she said, her fingers trembling around the candy jar, her earlobes flushed from exertion. "Whiskey with cream, right?" The lipstick mark on the edge of her thermos perfectly replicated the one on Wang Mingyuan's cup during the onboarding training.
As I adjusted my glasses, the red light on the ceiling camera flickered. "Thank you, Miss Lin, but I prefer Americano." In the reflection of the glass curtain wall, I noticed her left pinky frantically tapping the home button on her phone—exactly like during last week's board meeting when she sent an anonymous email.
Her mascara smudged slightly in the steam: "Oh dear~ your second button is loose." When her cool fingertips brushed against my collarbone, I heard a faint electrical noise from a miniature recording device hidden in her cuff.
The heavy footsteps of Wang Mingyuan crushed the reflection from the sterilizer. "Youth is wonderful!" He deliberately knocked over the candy jar, white sugar spilling out like an SOS signal. "The new marketing plan still relies on Shen Mo's approval." The sweat from his palm on my shoulder matched perfectly with the humidity of the anonymous complaint letter I received three hours ago.
The elevator mirror reflected Lin Xueyao's sudden stumble. The angle at which she fell towards me had been meticulously calculated; her skirt lifted just enough to reveal a faint bruise on her knee—exactly matching the footage from last night when she bumped into a table corner while entertaining Zhang Zhiqiang.
I leaned against the fire hydrant, disinfectant soaking through my shirt sleeves. "Miss Lin, be careful." The countdown for the automatic door showed seven seconds remaining; fine beads of sweat broke out on her nape, reminiscent of altered profit points on a financial statement.
A cup of milk tea suddenly appeared at my workstation, condensation forming on its surface, and sticky notes soaked in orange blossom fragrance. Three fingerprints surrounded the straw hole, overlapping 92% with a forged birth certificate copy in my drawer. Amidst the sound of ice clinking, an intranet pop-up suddenly appeared—Lin Xueyao's recommender was prominently displayed with Shen Cang Hai's exclusive chairman code.
Her fingertip hovered over the delete key but did not press down; she carried an aroma with citrus undertones that wafted over the partition. "The weather forecast says there will be thunderstorms tonight~" Her nails scraped against the USB port, and I suddenly recalled that pinhole camera aimed at my nape from last night’s ventilation duct.
As the lights on the eighteenth floor sequentially went out, I poured the milk tea into a plant pot. The leaves of the Brazilian wood curled into tiny fists within the saccharine liquid, and a listening device hidden at the bottom of the cup continued to heat up. My phone screen lit up with an encrypted email notification; a screenshot from Li Ming showed Lin Xueyao using tweezers to extract hair from my trash can.
Neon lights sliced through the blinds, leaving blood streaks on my fingers. At that moment when the second hand of my watch slid to twelve, the personnel system automatically popped up access permissions for her encrypted album—among seven hundred thirty candid photos, a close-up of my birthmark on my nape was marked with a medical cross.
Suddenly, a shadow appeared in the floor-to-ceiling window; I instinctively grabbed hold of someone's wrist. Wang Mingyuan's tie glimmered coldly in the darkness as he leaned in to whisper, his breath scorching my eardrum: "The board plans to restart a financial audit from twenty years ago, focusing specifically on your mother's medical expenses."
The remnants of milk tea dripped down the leaves, leaving a DNA spiral-shaped watermark on the overtime registration form. Just as I pressed the format key, a goodnight sticker from Lin Xueyao popped up—its little bear ears swaying in perfect sync with the Morse Code clock in Shen Cang Hai's study.
At the moment the shredder devoured the last tissue, a sharp sound echoed from the elevator shaft as a steel cable snapped.
Comment 0 Comment Count