Shen Yuqi's phone buzzed just as she was filing the last document of the morning.
She glanced at the screen—and stiffened.
Mom.
She rarely called during work hours.
Yuqi stood, moved toward the quieter end of the corridor, and answered softly. "Mom?"
There was a pause on the other end. Then her mother's voice, careful, restrained.
"Yuqi… your uncle came by this morning."
Yuqi's grip tightened around the phone. "Which uncle?"
"The one from your father's side."
That narrowed it down too much.
"What does he want?"
Her mother hesitated. "He's asking again. About helping your cousin with tuition. He says you have a good job now. That it wouldn't be difficult for you."
Yuqi closed her eyes.
Of course.
"I'll talk to him," she said finally. "Please don't argue with him."
Her mother sighed. "I didn't want to distract you at work."
"It's okay," Yuqi replied, forcing calm into her voice. "I'll handle it."
She ended the call and stood there for a moment longer than necessary, breathing in slowly, steadying herself.
Family matters were never simple.
They didn't follow schedules. They didn't care about deadlines or professionalism. They showed up uninvited and demanded answers you didn't always have.
When she returned to her desk, her focus slipped.
She reread the same paragraph three times without absorbing it.
"Yuqi."
She looked up.
Li Wei was standing there.
Not summoned. Not passing by.
Just there.
"Yes?" she said, straightening instinctively.
"You've missed two reminders," he said quietly.
"I'm sorry. I—"
She stopped herself.
She hated excuses.
"I'll correct it immediately."
He didn't move.
Instead, he said, "Something's distracting you."
It wasn't a question.
Yuqi hesitated.
She could say no. She could deflect. She could keep everything neatly boxed where it belonged.
But the truth pressed against her ribs.
"My family," she said finally. "Nothing urgent. Just… persistent."
Li Wei nodded once.
"I won't ask," he said.
Relief flickered through her.
"But if it affects your work," he continued, "you tell me."
"I will."
He turned to leave—then paused.
"For what it's worth," he added, not looking at her, "you don't owe anyone explanations for success."
She stared at his retreating back.
That wasn't something a boss usually said.
The rest of the day moved quickly.
Meetings. Emails. Tasks stacked and resolved.
But Yuqi felt split—half in the office, half at home, where expectations waited quietly but heavily.
That evening, she went home early.
Dinner was tense.
Her junior brother pretended not to notice. Her mother moved carefully around the subject. And when her uncle finally called, Yuqi excused herself to the balcony.
"I can't pay," Yuqi said calmly. "Not right now."
"You earn well," her uncle pressed. "You live comfortably."
"I earn responsibly," she replied. "And I have obligations."
"To family," he scoffed.
"Yes," she said. "Including myself."
The call ended badly.
She leaned against the railing afterward, city lights blurring below, chest tight.
Back at the office the next day, Li Wei noticed the change.
Not in her performance—she was precise as ever—but in her silence.
At noon, he handed her a file.
"Walk with me," he said.
They moved down the corridor together, side by side, steps measured.
"You're quieter today," he remarked.
She smiled faintly. "I suppose I am."
"Distractions don't disappear overnight."
"No," she agreed.
He stopped near the window.
"You handle pressure well," he said. "But you carry it alone."
Yuqi looked at him, surprised.
"I'm not asking you to share," he added. "Just… don't underestimate how visible silence can be."
She considered that.
"Thank you," she said. "For noticing."
He nodded.
That afternoon, she worked with renewed focus.
Not because her problems had disappeared—but because she felt, strangely, less alone with them.
As she packed up to leave, she caught sight of Li Wei through the glass walls of his office—still working, still composed, still carrying his own weight quietly.
For the first time, she wondered—
What did he leave at the office door every night?
And who noticed when he did?