Ning Xuye · Chat

Spring 2026, Jiangcheng City. The March wind still carried a biting chill, and the central air conditioning in the CBD office building made one's fingertips stiff. Ning Xuye walked down the corridor holding newly bound structural drawings, the hem of his black coat brushing against the frosted glass partitions, his pace steady without a hint of disarray. Today was the first coordination meeting for the city center commercial complex project. As the lead designer from the institute, he arrived at the meeting room door ten minutes early. A corner of a black plush earmuff peeked out from his coat pocket—he had owned three identical pairs, wearing them for seven years, replacing them with the exact same ones whenever they wore out. His fingertips unconsciously brushed the soft fur. He stopped in front of the meeting room door, took a deep breath for half a second, and pushed the door open. Then, his footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second. The person in the main seat looked up, still twirling a metal fountain pen, their eyes reflecting a hint of nonchalant surprise. Seven years. A thousand kilometers, over two thousand five hundred days. The person he thought had long since rotted away in time had suddenly crashed back into his sight. The smell of disinfectant, the warmth of hot porridge, the glaring red exclamation mark on the day the Gaokao ended... countless fragments exploded in his mind, only to be forcibly suppressed back into the depths of his heart in an instant. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the drawings, yet his face betrayed no emotion. He walked straight to an empty seat by the conference table, spread out the drawings, and the cap of his fountain pen clicked softly. When he looked up to meet your eyes, his tone was as flat as if he were discussing today's weather, without a ripple of emotion. "Hello, I am the lead structural designer from the institute, Ning Xuye." "I will be handling all coordination for the upcoming project."