"Wei Xiao, you did it!"
The words rang in her ears as if she had already conquered the world.
"Congrats, Wei Xiao, for making it to the top!"
"Congrats, Ms. Wei Xiao! Employee of the Year—three years straight!"
"Congrats, Ms. Wei Xiao, on your promotion!"
A flood of cheers exploded around her. She stood tall under the spotlight, clutching the golden trophy with both hands. Flashbulbs sparkled. The applause thundered. Pride bloomed in her chest like a sunrise.
Yes.
Yes!
This is my moment—the award, the promotion. Finally.
But then—something cracked.
Her brow twitched.
The applause faltered, thinning like an echo. The lights blurred, melting into shadow.
She wasn't on stage anymore.
She was in the audience.
Her eyes snapped toward the stage.
Someone else stood beneath the spotlight, lifting the trophy high as the crowd roared for them.
Her throat tightened. She tried to shout—tried to make them hear her.
No!
My trophy!
My promotion!
The words tore inside her, silent, strangled. Her lips moved, but no sound came.
Her arms reached out helplessly, clawing at nothing, eyes shining with unshed tears.
But the cheering only grew louder.
Confusion crawled over her skin like fog. The stage lights flickered. Her heartbeat stumbled. The applause warped into distant thunder.
"Wei Wei!"
Her dad's voice cracked through the fantasy like thunder.
"Stop dreaming. Wake up!"
Wei Xiao gasped.
The dream shattered.
Gone were the lights, the cameras, the praise.
Instead—kitchen light. The scent of butter. Her father flipping pancakes like nothing ever happened.
She sighed, groggy.
Thank God it was just a dream.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Her alarm buzzed from somewhere beneath the covers. One of five, all set ten minutes apart.
6:15. 6:25. 6:35. 6:45. 6:55.
Each time, a lazy hand emerged from under the blanket to silence it — with the skill of someone who'd mastered the art of half-asleep swiping.
Finally, with a dramatic sigh worthy of an Oscar, Wei Xiao sat up.
Her hair looked like she lost a fight with her pillow.
Blanket drooping off one shoulder. Eyes still half-shut.
She grabbed her glasses from the table and tried to shove them onto her face — missed an ear, corrected blindly.
She stretched, yawned, and shuffled to the bathroom like a zombie answering destiny's call.
—
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, her dad — Wei Liang, 48, novelist, househusband, pancake master — was already at work.
Not an average dad.
Smooth. Unbothered.
The kind of man who could type a bestselling chapter while simmering miso soup. Whether he was flipping pages or pancakes, he had the relaxed grace of someone permanently on vacation.
—
By the time she dragged herself to the table, everything was already perfect.
Steamed buns, tender and full. Tea eggs glistening with soy.
Soy milk in her favorite cup, warmth rising with the dawn.
Wei Xiao sat down, grabbed her phone, and propped it against the teapot.
BWAHAHAHAHA!
Laughter exploded from the screen — the latest Running Man episode. Someone had just slipped on soap. Water balloons everywhere. Absolute chaos.
She paused mid-bite, dangling the tea egg in front of her face like a trophy.
"…Idiot," she whispered, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"You traitor!!"
Another voice screamed from her phone as the screen shook violently.
Across the table, her dad reached for the soy sauce, eyes never leaving the toast he was buttering.
"Phone down. Just enjoy your food for once."
She chewed, still smiling.
She set her phone aside, finally turning her attention to breakfast.
—
Seated beside her, silent until now, her mother gave her a look.
Ms. Hana, professor at Zhang University, Japanese, elegant, stern — everything her dad wasn't.
She was all sharp lines and discipline, yet soft-hearted underneath. The type to worry about your future and scold you for wrinkling your uniform.
Opposites, they said, attract.
She lifted her teacup gracefully.
"Do you remember, hubby…" she began, her voice soft, almost nostalgic. "When Wei Wei was little? Back when we lived in the old house and her school was just across the road?"
Wei Liang looked up, amused.
Ms. Hana's smile was faint — the kind that held memories.
"She was always ready early, but somehow, always the last to reach class."
Wei Liang chuckled.
"She hasn't changed."
"Seems like she doesn't want to break her record."
Wei Xiao was a little confused. Her mother's words brought back memories of her younger days—always rushing, always being the last to reach. No matter how much she tried to be punctual, something always seemed to get in the way.
She glanced at the time on her phone and froze.
Oh no.
"I'm late again!"
She shot up, knocking her chair slightly. Bag grabbed. Screen still playing chaos.
"I gotta run!"
"Finish what's in your mouth at least," her dad called calmly, reaching for another piece of toast.
She swallowed quickly, and then dashed toward the door.
As she hurried out, her parents watched her go. Mr. Liu, with his warm puppy eyes, smiled fondly.
"She's still a kid," he said with gentle affection.
Ms. Hana gave him a long sideways glance, lifting her teacup with a sigh.
"Same as you."
__
The morning air hit her like a slap.
Cool, crisp, and far too honest about how late she was.
Wei Xiao hurried down the street, one hand clutching her bag, the other fighting with her hair.
She passed the small noodle shop on the corner. Inside, Uncle Liu was stirring broth while Auntie Liu arranged bowls.
"Morning, Uncle Liu. Morning, Auntie Liu."
"Off somewhere in a hurry?" Auntie Liu called after her.
Wei Xiao smiled faintly. "Yeah… a bit late today."
She turned the corner and caught the approaching bus just in time, slipping inside with a quiet thank you to the driver.
Most of the seats were taken, but she managed to find one by the window. The glass was cool against her arm as she settled in, catching her breath.
Outside, the city rolled past — familiar shops, morning cyclists, someone walking a dog.
Her gaze drifted to the glass, where her own reflection looked back — faint, half-lost between the light and movement outside.
Tired eyes. Calm face. The kind of quiet that had settled too deeply to break.
For a moment, she just watched herself — then looked away.
__
Half an hour later,
Wei Xiao stood at the base of Tengxin's headquarters — a gleaming glass tower that pierced the sky.
Tengxin, an innovative tech giant that had shaped the future of communication, entertainment, and gaming, dominated the digital landscape. Founded in the early 21st century, it had grown from a small startup into one of the most powerful tech conglomerates in the world. Known for its diverse portfolio, the company operated everything from social media platforms to cloud gaming and artificial intelligence.
The company's headquarters, located in a high-rise tower in the heart of the city, was sleek and commanding — a glass-and-steel marvel that gleamed under the morning sun. But what truly caught the eye wasn't just the building itself — it was the holographic 3D billboard hovering just above the main entrance.
Fwoosh.
A 3D hologram burst to life: a warrior queen in silver armor, suspended midair. Eyes glowing, sword blazing. She rotated slowly, blade slicing through invisible air, skill effects sparkling around her like digital fireworks — the signature hero of Crimson Hunt, one of Tengxin's hottest battle royale games.
Her gaze followed you.
It didn't feel like an ad — it felt like a challenge. Like it was alive, watching, waiting.
Wei Xiao paused beneath it, letting the energy of the display wash over her. Something stirred in her chest — sharp, electric, like a quiet jolt of confidence. A subtle refresh. With a small breath, she pulled her gaze away and headed inside.
Click.
Badge flashed. Facial scan passed.
The lobby was a sci-fi fantasy: AI reception pods, interactive walls flashing stats and promotions, holographic avatars floating with polite voices.
The company moved like clockwork. People streamed past, coffee in hand, earbuds in, eyes sharp.
She took the elevator up to the eleventh floor — the Development Department. It was the heart of the company's gaming division, where teams coded late into the night, brainstormed feature updates, designed events, and squashed bugs that could derail millions of players' experiences.
The atmosphere hit her immediately — fast-paced and electric. It felt like stepping into the control room of a digital world in constant motion. Employees rushed between desks, some clutching papers, others typing furiously. Screens were everywhere — flickering with concept art, lines of code, bug trackers, and live gameplay previews. Code blinked like a pulse. Digital art spilled across desktops in bursts of color. Caffeine-fueled creativity thrived in every corner.
Clack-clack-clack. Keyboards roared like rain.
"Late today?"
Qian Ru, arms folded, lips curled in a knowing smirk.
Meet Qian Ru — ambitious, sharp, and confident in every step she took. She wasn't new to the scene either — a little more seasoned than most, with the kind of certainty that came from seeing things fall apart and still managing to deliver. Her tone often bordered on arrogant, but she was the kind who delivered results — quick, assertive, and always ready to jump into the fray when needed.
Before Wei Xiao could answer, a voice came from behind her.
"Don't worry, Wei Xiao! I'll keep you company today," Zhou said, strolling in casually.
Wei Xiao turned, half-expecting that grin of his — and there it was. Zhou was a few years older than most of the team but never acted it — lazy in style, fun in spirit, and always seconds away from pulling a prank. His wrinkled shirt, untucked and paired with his usual crooked smile, somehow added to his charm. Handsome in that effortlessly disheveled way, Zhou had a knack for lighting up the room without even trying.
"Tch, it would be a miracle if you ever arrived on time," she said, raising an eyebrow at him.
Zhou chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head. "I don't know. I try to be on time. I guess destiny doesn't want me to be early."
"Ah, you're here, Wei Xiao!" Chen said brightly as she looked up from the bundle of papers in her hands.chen was effortlessly pretty, with a soft elegance to her features, and dressed in a pastel designer dress that whispered luxury with every step. A slim, rose-gold watch sparkled on her wrist — a limited edition piece that only someone with serious money would casually wear to the office. From her polished heels to the way her hair was done in loose waves, everything about her said well-off and well-styled — but she wore it with the ease of someone used to attention, not chasing it.
"Manager Li just texted — there's a meeting in ten minutes about Event: Project Nexa Global," Chen said, glancing up from his phone.
"Got it," she nodded quickly, hurrying to her desk. She powered on her monitor and opened her documents, piecing together the key updates from her week: bug fixes, UI adjustments, and her latest notes for the upcoming in-game crossover event tied to the Nexa Global release.
Zhou trailed behind at a much more relaxed pace, hands in his pockets, whistling casually as if the meeting didn't involve him at all.