Zhenwei stood facing the world..
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across his office, framing the city like a living painting , silver towers cutting into pale morning clouds, traffic flowing like veins of light far below. The sun hadn't fully risen yet, but its glow brushed the edges of the skyline, setting the glass aglow in soft gold.
His reflection stared back at him.
Perfectly pressed charcoal suit. White shirt, collar sharp enough to cut through silence. His black tie rested neatly against his chest, unwrinkled, unbothered , much like the face he wore every day. Calm. Untouchable. CEO.
But his eyes told a different story.
"Don't you think," he said casually, hands in his pockets, "that you've overstayed your welcome this morning?"
The room answered with silence.
Zhenwei sighed. "You always do this. You wait until I'm in a decent mood before you start haunting my office."
Still nothing.
Then...
A soft thump.
A streak of red-gold fur leapt onto his desk, knocking over a pen holder in the process. A long, luxurious tail swished lazily through the air as a fox the size of a medium dog settled onto his chair like it owned the building.
Its fur shimmered like flame under sunlight, nine tails fanning behind it in slow, arrogant waves. Its eyes were sharp, knowing, and far too amused.
"Oh please," the fox said, stretching. "You'd miss me if I didn't show up. You'd just brood dramatically at the windows like some tragic immortal prince."
Zhenwei didn't even turn.
"Get off my chair."
The fox snorted. "I knew you when you ruled battlefields and commanded armies. Now you're afraid of an office chair being contaminated by divine fur?"
Zhenwei finally faced him, expression flat. "You're shedding on Italian leather."
The fox gasped, dramatically clutching his chest with one paw. "That's the cruelest thing you've ever said to me in five centuries."
Zhenwei walked forward and flicked the fox's forehead with two fingers.
The fox yelped.
"Transform. Now," Zhenwei muttered. "If someone walks in and sees a mythical creature lounging in my office, I will personally seal you in a teacup for the next hundred years."
In a shimmer of red light, the fox shifted.
Where fur once sat now stood a middle-aged man with sharp eyes, messy auburn hair, and a grin that looked permanently carved into his face. He leaned casually against the desk, arms crossed, robes replaced by a modern blazer that he clearly wore just to mock human fashion.
"You're no fun anymore," the fox-man said. "Reincarnation really dulled your personality."
Zhenwei narrowed his eyes. "You're still alive. That alone proves I haven't dulled enough."
The fox laughed. "Still insulting me after five hundred years. Some things never change."
Zhenwei exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "Why are you here, Linghu?"
Linghu's grin softened just a little.
"You felt it, didn't you?" he said.
Zhenwei froze.
The city hummed behind them, unaware that something ancient had just brushed against fate itself.
Linghu stepped closer. "The pull. The echo. The thread."
Wei Jian turned back to the window. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You always say that," Linghu replied. "And yet, here we are. Again."
zhenwei's reflection in the glass flickered, not into a CEO, but into a man in crimson robes, standing on a battlefield soaked in blood, sword dripping with destiny.
His jaw tightened.
"That life is over."
Linghu tilted his head. "Then why did she appear in your memory? you know we both share the same mind. I feel whatever you feel as I'm your spirit guide, lest you shut me out right?"
Zhenwei didn't answer.
Because somewhere, deep in a place he hadn't touched in centuries, something had stirred.
A soft knock broke the air.
Zhenwei turned sharply.
Linghu vanished in a flicker of red light just as the glass doors slid open.
Xinyue stepped in, clutching a folder to her chest.
She froze.
From her angle, all she saw was Zhenwei standing alone in the middle of his massive office ,one hand still half-raised, eyes focused on absolutely nothing.
She blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Her brain worked desperately to piece together what she'd just walked into.
Oh no.
Her heart sank.
He was talking to someone… but there's no one here…
A terrible, pitiful conclusion formed.
My boss is lonely.
And he talks to himself.
Xinyue swallowed.
Zhenwei turned, startled just enough for his composure to crack , barely.
"Yes?" he said.
Xinyue nearly jumped out of her skin.
"I— I'm so sorry!" she blurted, bowing slightly. "I didn't mean to interrupt! I can come back later if you were… um… busy."
He studied her.
Something in the air shifted.
Xinyue avoided his eyes, gripping the folder like a shield.
Great job, Xinyue. Day two and you've discovered your CEO's emotional coping mechanism.
Zhenwei cleared his throat. "You're not interrupting."
She hesitated, then stepped forward carefully, like approaching a very elegant, very powerful wild animal.
"I was asked to deliver these," she said, holding out the documents.
Their fingers brushed when he took them.
The world didn't stop.
But something inside him did.
Xinyue felt it too , a strange warmth, like standing too close to a candle she couldn't see.
He withdrew first.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
She nodded quickly. "I'l , I'll go now."
She turned to leave, then paused at the door, glancing back.
Deciding on not bothering him further, she turned and left.
Zhenwei watched her go, expression unreadable.
The moment the door closed, Linghu reappeared on the desk, grinning like he'd just won a bet.
"Oh," he said sweetly. "She's definitely the one."
Zhenwei didn't respond.
But his hand, resting on the glass window, tightened into a fist.…
Fate had found him again.