Chapter 6: Project Fated
It was only the second week since Wei Jie returned to the company, and yet, the universe already seemed to have a wicked sense of humor.
"Final project assignments for Q4 have been confirmed," said the HR director, her voice crisp through the office-wide announcement. "All lead staff, please report to Meeting Room B at 10 a.m. for the kickoff briefing.
Wei Jie didn't even glance up from his screen. His coffee was already cold, and the dark circles under his eyes were the product of another night spent pacing his apartment. He hadn't spoken to Wen Xuan Qi since their accidental encounter at the lobby three days ago. But the air hadn't been quiet either—he could feel it every time he stepped into the same building. The shift. The static. Her presence.
At 10:01 a.m., he stepped into Meeting Room B—and froze.
She was already there.
Wen Xuan Qi sat at the far end of the conference table, back straight, fingers clasped neatly in front of her. Her gaze met his for a half-second—cool, unreadable—and then shifted back to the presentation slides.
Wei Jie's jaw tensed as he slowly made his way to a seat diagonally across from her.
The room filled quickly with murmurs and shuffling chairs. No one seemed to notice the invisible wire pulled taut between the two of them.
Until—
"Team Alpha will be led jointly by Wei Jie and Wen Xuan Qi," said the director. "This is a flagship product launch, and I expect full cooperation from both sides."
Wei Jie's head turned. "Jointly?"
Xuan Qi's brows barely lifted. "That's what she said."
"I thought I was leading independently—"
"Not anymore," she replied smoothly, not even looking at him. "Things change."
Like how people change, Wei Jie thought bitterly, fingers curling on the table edge.
"Any objections?" the director asked.
There were a thousand. But none he could say aloud.
"No," he said tightly.
"Good," the director nodded. "You'll be working closely over the next two months. Weekly progress reports. First presentation next Friday."
Wei Jie barely heard the rest. His pulse had started to drum in his ears.
That Afternoon
Their new project room was smaller than expected. Too much glass, too little space.
"I'm not doing this over email," Xuan Qi said, placing a stack of folders on the desk. "Let's lay out the core timelines now."
Her tone was professional. Efficient. Almost cold.
Wei Jie nodded stiffly and pulled out a chair. "Fine."
They sat. Minutes passed in tense silence, broken only by the sound of rustling papers.
She spoke first. "This launch is important for both our teams. So whatever happened before—"
"Is still happening," he interrupted.
She glanced up sharply. "What?"
Wei Jie leaned back, jaw tight. "You act like we can just erase five years like a whiteboard."
"I'm not erasing anything," she said. "But I'm not dragging personal history into this either. We're professionals."
He chuckled, but it held no humor. "You always were good at compartmentalizing."
Xuan Qi stood abruptly. "I don't have time for this."
"Then make time," he said, standing too. "You think you're the only one who got hurt?"
Her lips parted in surprise—but no words came out.
The moment stretched thin.
Finally, she said, "This isn't about us anymore."
But her voice wasn't as steady as before.
Wei Jie stared at her, the space between them dense with everything they didn't say.
He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and sat back down.
"Fine," he muttered. "Let's get the timelines done."
She hesitated—then sat again, silently sliding the documents toward him.
The rest of the meeting passed in clipped tones and brief nods, like they were building a fragile ceasefire with office supplies and professionalism.
But neither of them mentioned the way their fingers brushed when they both reached for the same pen.
Or the silence that followed when their hands lingered a second too long.
That Night
Wei Jie sat in his apartment, fingers drumming against the table.
He had memorized every line of her project outline. Not out of necessity—but because it was hers.
He should have moved on. Should have forgotten.
But the truth was, she never left. Not really.
And now, fate was forcing them together again.
He picked up his phone. Typed a message.
Let's finish the remaining tasks tomorrow morning. I'll bring coffee. No sugar, two shots of espresso—still your style?
He hovered over the send button. Then deleted the last sentence.
He hit send.
Five seconds later, three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then came back again.
Finally, her reply popped up.
Fine. 8 a.m. sharp.
Wei Jie stared at the screen, heart beating faster than it should.
Tomorrow would come fast.
And he wasn't sure if he was ready.
But ready or not—
They were already in it.
Together.
Again.