Chapter 1
The sky had gradually darkened, and almost everyone in the office had left. There probably weren't many people left in the entire building either.
I sat at my desk, dealing with non-urgent documents at a leisurely pace. The file in my hand didn't seem to be my responsibility, but that didn't matter—I'd long since gotten used to it. My colleagues would pile files on my desk, and I'd just handle them as they came. Sometimes I could get through all of them, sometimes I'd finish other people's work only to neglect my own.
Fortunately, the tasks I was responsible for weren't too important, otherwise a scolding alone wouldn't have been enough to resolve things.
Old softie Lao Chen said I was too lenient with my colleagues, but he was the same way—he constantly helped them too. Colleagues, after all, working together meant fate. What's the big deal about doing a bit more? Besides, I didn't have a girlfriend, and my home wasn't in this city anyway. Going home early usually meant nothing to do, so I might as well stay in the office.
And honestly, I quite liked the office after hours. Quiet, spacious, as if the entire world had been reduced to just me. It was a feeling that was a bit lonely but very comfortable.
In many movies, office buildings after hours are usually places of horror, where ghostly events often occur. To be honest, I was always a bit curious about those events. Unfortunately, I worked overtime frequently but never encountered any of them.
Hmm, that thought seemed a bit strange. Shangguan often said the same thing about me. Thinking of Shangguan, I felt like I was forgetting something. After two seconds of thinking, I just continued with my work. Forget it—if I can't think of it, then it can't be important. If it were truly significant, Shangguan would have reminded me anyway.
I picked up the next file, about to open it, when my phone rang. Chen Baqiang's voice came through—I didn't understand Cantonese, but after hearing it so many times, I knew the general meaning.
"Why does your mouth always say that same line
Why won't my heart die
I understand that when love loses everything is wrong
So why do I only like you"
Honestly, I really thought Shangguan was stranger than me. If he liked this song, he should have kept it on his own phone. What was the point of putting it on mine? And it just repeated those same few lines over and over—the person listening was really getting tired of it.
But was he calling me now because I really forgot something?
Filled with doubt, I pressed the answer button. Shangguan's fiery voice immediately blared in my ear: "Where the hell are you?"
I answered honestly: "At the company."
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" A stream of curses immediately poured through the phone. I rolled my eyes and moved the phone away, silently counting from one to ten, then back again, then picking up the receiver. As expected, the stream of curses had ended.
"You stay exactly where you are, I'm coming to pick you up now! You hear me? Downstairs in fifteen minutes. If you make me wait again, you're dead."
I hung up and started spacing out, trying hard to remember what exactly I'd forgotten. Today was November 15th, Friday. Shangguan's birthday was in February, mine was in January—both still far away. It wasn't New Year's, not Spring Festival, not Valentine's Day, not April Fools'—in short, it wasn't any holiday, so I shouldn't have forgotten anything.
I couldn't figure it out, and Shangguan had already set a time. I had no choice but to put down my files, shut down the computer, and head toward the elevator.
I absolutely didn't believe Shangguan would kill me, but there was no need to make him angry—it would be too troublesome. Why troublesome? Well... first, I work for Shangguan. This company is his. Although most people in the company don't know it, I'm just an ordinary employee, but my boss really is him. So there's no need to anger the boss, right? Second, Shangguan and I currently live together. To be precise, I live at his place, paying a small symbolic rent each month—almost like living for free.
And the meals for both of us are Shangguan's responsibility too. This was the most important point. Jobs and housing can be found again, but finding someone who'll cook for you is hard. Although I could hire hourly help, with my salary... it was better to just think about that and leave it at that.
Why was Shangguan willing to cook? He'd always done it, so I guessed he just liked it.恩, that must be the reason—otherwise I really couldn't think of another one. If Shangguan didn't run a company, he could be a great chef. His cooking skills were really excellent.
I arrived at the parking lot and spotted Shangguan's silver-gray Mercedes at a glance. I admitted I really liked the lines of this Mercedes model, but I really didn't think a sports car was suitable for driving in crowded City N. Still, since Shangguan liked it, I had nothing to say.
Everyone has some irrational hobby.
Just as I approached the car, the door opened from inside. Shangguan's eyes, which my colleagues described as ice-cold, were now shooting sparks. And that marble face was now twisted in an uncharacteristic way.
Instinctively, I took a step back and spoke first: "Sorry, I forgot." Although I still couldn't think of what exactly I'd forgotten, an apology was always the right move.
Shangguan's expression softened, and the sparks in his eyes finally extinguished.
"Get in quickly, we'll miss the next showing if you keep dawdling."
I froze. Instinctively I said: "What next showing?" After saying it, I wished I could bite off my own tongue—wasn't this an admission of guilt?!
As expected, Shangguan's expression changed again. It wasn't just sparks now—it had become a volcanic eruption. The air itself seemed to turn to magma, leaving no living thing within five hundred meters!
"You son of a bitch, did you treat my words like farts?! I sent you a text message right before you got off work! I've reminded you at least a hundred times this week! The movie, the movie! Damn it, didn't you say you wanted to watch that damn movie?"
The movie? I finally remembered. There had indeed been something like this. Half a month ago, my colleagues in the office had started talking about that blockbuster about to land from America, describing it so vividly and enthusiastically that I'd become interested too. I'd casually mentioned it during lunch. I never expected Shangguan had remembered it.
But the text message before I got off work... had I received it?
Though I had doubts, at that moment I didn't dare raise any objection. Otherwise Shangguan might go on strike and stop cooking—he often used that to express his anger.