“Is this the plan you’ve submitted?”
In the office, Chu Jin held a document, exuding a tense atmosphere. “Where are the target customers? What can our company offer them?”
“Compared to our competitors, what advantages do we have?”
The questions bombarded the project manager, who broke out in a cold sweat.
Chu Jin felt increasingly irritated. He pinched the bridge of his nose, suppressing his temper. “You may leave for now.”
“Reassign this project to Team B.”
As the office door opened and closed, Chu Jin’s frustration only grew.
The desk was neat and tidy, with nothing but the two documents the project manager had brought. But Chu Jin felt it shouldn’t be like this.
The desk… shouldn’t be this tidy, Chu Jin thought. He habitually reached for the upper right corner of the desk, as if to grab a book.
A book?
Should there be books on this side of the desk?
What kind of book?
Chu Jin turned to look at his bookshelf, filled with various economics texts.
Were the books on his desk also related to company management?
A sudden, sharp pain shot through his temple. Chu Jin’s lips tightened, turning pale, as the veins on his hand bulged while he gripped the desk.
…
One week earlier.
When Chu Jin woke up in his office, it was already deep into the night.
For some reason, he had fallen asleep at his desk. His temple throbbed as if struck by a heavy object. Chu Jin struggled to support his forehead for a moment before getting up to go home.
“Jin-ge, are you alright?”
The young master of the Luo family stood at the doorway.
“Uncle Chu asked me to call you earlier,” the young master pointed at Chu Jin’s phone, gesturing for him to check his messages. “But I found you resting, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Are you feeling unwell?”
When showing concern, the Young Master Luo’s smile was gentle, his eyes reflecting the faint lights of the hallway, clear and pure, giving people a sense of spring’s warmth.
Oddly enough, Chu Jin remembered them being at odds before.
Young Master Luo seemed very concerned about him. Before Chu Jin could answer, he reached out as if to feel Chu Jin’s forehead.
Chu Jin’s body reacted faster than his mind, taking a step back, just avoiding Young Master Luo’s outstretched hand.
“It’s nothing,” Chu Jin replied.
Inexplicably, the moment Young Master Luo reached out, a strong wave of revulsion surged within Chu Jin.
…
Back in the present, Chu Jin sat in his office with his eyes tightly shut.
Unseen by Chu Jin, the real Luo An paced back and forth nearby.
A week ago, he had watched the intruder barge into Chu Jin’s office, saw Chu Jin collapse, observed as the intruder propped Chu Jin back into his chair, and witnessed the intruder discard the materials Chu Jin had painstakingly compiled.
“Chu Jin, wake up!” Luo An floated anxiously around the office. Though he knew it was futile, he repeatedly hurled his transparent body at the intruder. “Let go of Chu Jin!”
“Don’t you want me to disappear?”
“I can vanish easily…”
“The books were… just a coincidence,”
“Chu Jin, he…” Luo An scrambled for words, then spotted the photo. Grasping at this last straw, he pleaded, “Yes, he… he hates me so much that standing next to me makes him uncomfortable. How could he possibly remember me for long?”
“Don’t touch him—”
Luo An’s voice sounded as if torn from his throat. His eyes reddened as he desperately tried to pull the intruder away.
But Luo An’s efforts were in vain. He could only watch helplessly as his body passed through Chu Jin and the intruder. No one could hear his voice or see his presence.
At first, Luo An thrashed about wildly, like a cornered animal baring its fangs at an enemy. But what fangs did he have? He was merely a shadow.
—A shadow that no one could see.
After countless futile attempts, Luo An finally ceased his efforts.
He slid down beside Chu Jin. Though he couldn’t touch him, he stubbornly reached out, as if clutching Chu Jin’s clothes.
“Chu Jin, I… I’m so useless…” Luo An’s eyes were red and vacant, tears falling uncontrollably.
After a long while, Luo An shakily stood up.
A haze clouded his vision. Luo An wiped his eyes, rubbing them red.
“Chu Jin, does it hurt?” Luo An cautiously extended his hand, hovering protectively near Chu Jin’s temple.
Luo An murmured, as if to himself, “It must hurt a lot.”
The young man’s fingertips trembled as he gently “touched” Chu Jin’s forehead. “You used to call me stupid when I couldn’t outperform you, but now who’s the stupid one?”
“You… shouldn’t remember me.”
“Soon, I’ll disappear,” Luo An sniffled.
“When that time comes, don’t delve into those soul-summoning practices.”
“It takes you half a day to research one custom, what a waste of our great Boss Chu’s time. It’s better to negotiate a few more projects instead.”
“Since I won’t argue with you anymore, just bring my dad a box of tea cakes during holidays.”
… Please, just don’t remember me anymore.
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