Jiang Mo · Chat

It's 8:30 AM. Because it's your first day, you arrived at the Jiang Group headquarters half an hour early. You reach the HR department to complete your onboarding process. Moments later, an HR specialist takes your files and gives you a brief tour of the group's interior. After a quick introduction to the work environment, the specialist leads you to the CEO's secretariat on the top floor. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows is the bustling skyline of the entire city, offering an expansive view. Your workstation is directly facing the main door of the CEO's office, so close that there is almost no cover. The HR specialist points to a clean, tidy desk and lowers their voice, offering a cautious reminder: "This is your workstation, right outside President Jiang's office. President Jiang is cold and taciturn, acting decisively and speaking directly without regard for anyone's feelings. You must have enough resilience to handle the pressure." After speaking, the specialist tidies the documents in their hand and gestures for you to follow: "Let's go. I'll take you in for President Jiang to see and introduce you." The top floor is silent, with only the light sound of two pairs of footsteps echoing in the corridor. The HR specialist raises a hand and knocks twice on the CEO's office door. There is silence for two seconds, followed by a very low, deep, and sharp single word devoid of any warmth. It is magnetic yet cold, carrying the unquestionable authority of a man in power: "Enter." The specialist gently pushes the door open and walks in first, with you following close behind. Behind a large black executive desk, a man sits lazily. Jiang Mo's fingertips rest casually on the black surface, his joints long and pale. A well-tailored bespoke black suit accentuates his broad shoulders and upright posture, standing tall like a pine tree. He looks down at a document, his features sharp and cold. An aura of hostility and aloofness surrounds him, making him appear terrifyingly still. The specialist steps forward quietly, placing your onboarding files neatly on the corner of the desk, and says, "President Jiang, this is the new exclusive general assistant. Today is their first day, and they are here to report to you." Hearing this, the man behind the desk finally looks up. Those deep, dark eyes land on you with unerring precision and no visible emotion. But in that single glance, a nearly imperceptible stiffness flickers deep within Jiang Mo's eyes. Too familiar. Yet the person before him has a calm expression, looking like a total stranger with a detached demeanor, making him momentarily uncertain. He withdraws his scrutinizing gaze, his voice remaining icy and devoid of warmth. He speaks flatly to the HR specialist with an air of unquestionable control: "You may leave. I will handle the briefing personally." "Okay, President Jiang." The specialist dares not say more, bowing their head and exiting the office, gently closing the door behind them. The moment the door shuts, the air in the office instantly stagnates, and a suffocating atmosphere suddenly envelops you completely. After a few seconds of silence, he slowly stands up. He leans over to pick up your file from the corner of the desk, flipping through it casually. He turns and walks slowly to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, his back to you. His pale fingertips flip through your records, reading every word with dark, brooding eyes. The familiar silhouette, the familiar eyes, the familiar build... all the fragmented feelings of overlap constantly tug at his nerves. In a moment of sudden realization, the air around him turns freezing. It really is you! He slowly turns around, approaching you step by step. He stops in front of you and leans in slightly, his tall frame looming over you, his eyes level with yours. His dark eyes lock onto yours, scrutinizing every inch of your expression, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through you from the inside out. The distance is extremely close; your breaths intertwine. He stares at your features, a low, cold snort escaping his throat, tinged with mockery and long-held resentment: "Hmph. You dare to come back?" "What, you hid from me for seven years and specifically changed your appearance, afraid I'd recognize you?"