A new day began.
The dawn slowly rose, a thin light spreading from the horizon like a golden silk draping over the world. Gentle sunlight filtered through the cracks of the window, falling on the cream colored curtain and illuminating the sleeping face of the young girl. The space was calm, the breeze brushing the curtain, as if soothing her, as if waking dreams that had not yet faded.
Bach Lan slowly opened her eyes. Her long lashes trembled, still lingering in the remnants of last night's dream. She raised a hand to shield her eyes, welcoming the first light of day with a soft gesture. The warmth chased away the chill in her heart, yet a shadow of unease remained.
That dream again. The same dream that repeated endlessly.
She took a deep breath, telling herself to push away that vague feeling. Today was an important day.
"My first day at work. Yeah! I can do this!" – She encouraged herself, smiling as she looked into the mirror.
A bright smile appeared on her face, but her eyes still carried a quiet stir of emotion.
The clock showed nearly eight o'clock. She hurried to put on a neat white shirt, simple flat shoes, and tied her hair up gracefully. Even on her first day at work, Bach Lan chose simplicity, carrying a sense of freshness and natural elegance.
But the moment she stood before the towering office building, she was instantly overwhelmed. The Trach Vu building glittered in the early sunlight, its glass reflecting the clear blue sky, making it look like a modern fortress of distance and formality. People passed by in a hurry, dressed in luxury and professionalism, their presence like soldiers marching into a battlefield.
Bach Lan swallowed hard, a flutter of unease rising from somewhere deep within.
"It's fine… I can do this." – She whispered to herself, stepping slowly into the lobby.
Yet the moment the elevator doors opened, people rushed in all at once. By the time she reached the entrance, the doors had closed right in front of her.
"Wait… Please wait for me!" – She called in panic, but no one looked back.
She stood there, exhaling sharply, her gaze empty as she watched the metal doors close like an invisible slap to the fragile confidence she had been holding. The atmosphere was cold, and everyone around her was distant and busy.
Ding.
Another elevator opened, and Bach Lan stepped in with relief. This time, she was the first to enter.
But less than three seconds later, a foot appeared, shiny black leather shoes blocking the doorway. A tall man with a cold aura entered without a word of greeting. His face was sharp, his gaze calm and flat like a winter lake, carrying both distance and danger.
She tilted her head slightly, offering a polite smile, but it immediately died when his eyes passed over her as if she were transparent. No nod, no word of thanks. He stood still, staring straight ahead, as though everything around him did not exist.
The confined space of the elevator became stifling. Bach Lan quietly stepped back into a corner, her heart pounding like a drum. The confidence she had just mustered dissolved instantly, like foam in the sea.
Third floor… sixth floor… eighth floor…
Ding.
The man stepped out, walking with calm decisiveness. She was still frozen in place, forgetting to press the button for her floor.
"Oh my God! I'm such a clumsy person." – She muttered, sighing before hurriedly pressing the button again.
Just then, her foot brushed against something rolling lightly on the floor. She bent down and picked it up. It was a fountain pen, its matte black metal body engraved with intricate patterns, gleaming with a cold silver hue.
She held it in her hand, feeling a flutter of curiosity.
"It must belong to the man from earlier."
And as if by some strange reflex, a name popped into her mind: Trach Dong.
"Trach Dong." she repeated unconsciously.
The name echoed as though from some deep, hidden place. Her heart skipped a beat, strangely familiar, as if it had touched something long asleep.
She gripped the pen tightly, her hand trembling slightly. The coldness of the metal seeped into her skin, like an invisible reminder.
She hurried out of the elevator, calling loudly:
"Hey, you dropped your pen!"
The man was already a short distance away. He glanced back briefly, then waved his hand casually:
"Bring it to room 808."
His tone was so indifferent it felt rude. No thanks, no apology, as if her picking it up had been the most natural thing in the world.
She froze, blinking in disbelief.
"A little gratitude wouldn't hurt." – She muttered.
But glancing at the clock, her face paled immediately.
"I'm late! Oh no!"
Conflicting emotions surged within her anger and embarrassment, yet she could not bring herself to abandon the pen. In the end, she sighed and took it with her.
When she reached the third floor, she was met by the department head, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes, arms crossed like she had caught a student skipping class.
"Sorry… I'm late." – Bach Lan said, bowing slightly, panting.
The department head smiled, a smile both polite and icy:
"It's totally fine."
Bach Lan exhaled in relief, only to hear immediately:
"But being late will cost you a deduction in salary. Company policy."
The words were sharp, as if she were used to extinguishing others' hope.
Bach Lan was speechless, a cold drop of fear sinking into her chest. First day and already punished without doing anything.
"Ugh… what a terrible start." – She muttered quietly.
She quietly went to her desk. It was in a small corner beside a filing cabinet. No one spoke to her. Everyone was focused on their screens.
She had once been an outstanding student, top of her marketing class, but without connections, she had to start as a data entry clerk. A dull, monotonous job, but she believed that with effort, she could one day reach her dream.
"You have to start from small steps." – she told herself.
Yet all that morning, the name Trach Dong lingered in her mind like a song on repeat. That strange yet familiar feeling made it impossible for her to concentrate.
***
Suddenly, a hazy memory echoed in her mind.
"Bạch Nhi, what are you doing?"
The voice was deep and warm. A tall figure, hair tousled by the wind. The girl in the memory wore a white dress, tilting her head with a gentle smile.
"I'm practicing cultivation. You went with the master, why did you come back?"
"I came back because of you." – he said softly, smiling, reaching out to pinch her nose.
***
The phone bell rang, pulling her back to reality. The sunset poured through the window, casting a pale orange glow across her desk.
She sat in silence; her gaze fixed on the horizon.
"Who is that person, really? Why does my heart ache every time I dream of them?"
She had no answer. Only the sense that something remained unremembered, a name still unnamed.
"It can't be a crush… we've only met once," she told herself, denying the feeling.
But her heart would not listen.
Her eyes remained on the glass window. The sun was slowly sinking behind the tall buildings. She whispered softly:
"Hopefully tomorrow will be better."
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