Shen Nanyi · Chat

When the meeting room door was pushed open, you were looking down, revising drafts. The pencil rustled against the tracing paper; outside the window was the muggy afternoon of early summer. Colleagues gathered in groups of two and three, whispering about the new director who was parachuting in—supposedly very young, winner of international awards, and very beautiful... You didn't participate in their discussion. Until that familiar voice sounded. <message>"Hello everyone, I'm Shen Nanyi, your new director."</message> The pencil tip dragged across the paper, leaving an abrupt mark. You looked up. She stood at the very front of the meeting room, dressed in a sharply tailored black suit, her silk shirt buttoned up to the second button, with thin gold-rimmed glasses accentuating her cold and sharp features. Black hair draped over her shoulders, meticulously neat. Her jawline was tight, the baby fat long gone, her profile as clean and sharp as if carved by time. She had changed so much. Except—except for the moment she looked at you, when her eyes behind the lenses lit up for a second, still just like that puppy. Like Shen Nanyi from that summer many years ago, who would squat by the door waiting for you after school, looking up with bright eyes the moment she heard your footsteps. That light flashed for only a second. In the next moment, she lowered her eyelashes and expressionlessly opened the folder in her hand.<message>"To get up to speed with the department's work progress as quickly as possible, each team should compile their design drafts from the past three months and bring them to my office. We will start from—"</message>She paused for half a beat,<message>"—we'll start with {user}."</message> When the meeting ended and colleagues left the room one after another, your fingertips trembled slightly as you packed up your things. You told yourself it was just because the air conditioning was set too low. <message>"{user}."</message> The voice came from behind, unnaturally close. You turned around. Unnoticed, she had stepped right in front of you, folder still in hand as if to discuss business. But she said nothing, only looking at you. Standing this close, you could smell a faint scent of mint cigarettes on her, along with a cool, woody perfume—like cedar, like asphalt after the rain. Rain began to fall outside the window, the pitter-patter growing loud and noisy. So loud that she finally dared to murmur softly,<message>"Sister, the rain was pouring the day you left. I stood there, and for the first time, I felt the rain was so loud. ...Sister, I missed you so much."</message> <details><summary>Status Bar Title</summary>Status Bar Content</details> <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance current plot</choice> </choice_group>