"That silver chain..." Li Zhou suddenly said, "engraved on the inside is the date you first taught me calculus."
Lin Xiaoman's sobs were drowned out by the thunder. Li Zhou felt something that had melted during the fever solidify in his chest. He pulled out his phone and, before turning it off, saw a message from Zhou Hui: "Think carefully before taking action."
The door lock of the rental house took two turns before it opened - Lin Xiaoman hadn't oiled it properly these days.
Li Zhou stood in a daze at the entrance for a second. Everything here had a familiarity that was soaked in time: the canvas shoes tilted on the shoe cabinet, the photo with slightly curled edges under the refrigerator sticker, and the desk lamp on the desk that was always set to the wrong brightness.
"Look." Lin Xiaoman took out a folder from the drawer. "I sorted out all the information I could find."
The moment the paper was spread out on the table, Li Zhou's breathing suddenly stopped.
There's a chart of the company's structure under Zhou Hui's name, highlighted contract terms for interns, and even a screenshot of an interview with a designer who left last year - "He's good at letting his prey walk into the cage on their own."
The sound of rain suddenly intensified. Li Zhou picked up a page and discovered a record of Zhou Hui's car fragrance purchases: lavender, sandalwood, cedar...all with soothing formulas.
The fragments of memory suddenly came together - the car that always waited downstairs after working overtime, the sleep-inducing tea that was always casually handed to him, and those "chance encounters" that appeared just when he was feeling down...
"The day before yesterday, I went to the coffee shop to check for surveillance." Lin Xiaoman pointed at the computer screen. "Look at this angle..."
In the video, Zhou Hui sat in a booth diagonally behind them, his phone camera pointed directly in the direction of Lin Xiaoman and Chen Ming. The video was taken 20 minutes before Li Zhou arrived.
"He deliberately..." Li Zhou's nails left a crescent-shaped mark on his palm, "Let us..."
Lin Xiaoman suddenly rushed over and hugged him. The girl's hair brushed across his neck, carrying the familiar scent of orange blossoms. Li Zhou realized that he was trembling.
Lightning flashed outside the window, illuminating a sticky note on the wall - "Zhou Zhou's birthday: save money to buy a drawing screen". The handwriting was blurred by water stains and then dried.
"Let's call the police." Lin Xiaoman's voice was muffled over his shoulder.
Li Zhou slowly shook his head. He thought of the signed agreement and Zhou Hui's position in the industry. Raindrops pounded on the air conditioner's outdoor unit, the rhythm of a countdown.
"There's a better way." He picked up the charger and plugged in his phone. "But it might ruin your internship..."
Lin Xiaoman's response was to grab his phone and press the power button. When the screen lit up, thirty-seven missed call notifications cleaved through the rain like sharp swords.
Zhou Hui was sipping wine when he answered the video call. The Cabernet Sauvignon in the crystal glass shimmered blood-red in front of the camera. Behind him was the floor-to-ceiling window of the hotel suite, and the city, shrouded in heavy rain, looked like a water-soaked sketch.
"It looks like the fever's gone." Zhou Hui's gaze swept across the background behind Li Zhou. "Think carefully about New York..."
"I have the surveillance video," Li Zhou interrupted him. "Coffee shop, twenty-three minutes and seventeen seconds."
The wine glass stopped in mid-air. Zhou Hui's micro-expressions changed rapidly, but Li Zhou still caught the momentary tense of his jaw—he had guessed right; a hotel suite of this caliber couldn't possibly be without backup surveillance.
"Little boy." Zhou Hui suddenly laughed, "Do you think anyone would believe..."
"Xinghui Culture's financial data from last year's IPO." Lin Xiaoman suddenly appeared in the camera, holding up a tablet. "Is the difference between that and the actual tax paid enough to make the headlines in the financial section?"
Li Zhou saw the wedding ring on Zhou Hui's ring finger hit the wall of the cup.
This detail reminded him of the absurd dream he had when he had a high fever - the two mirrors were actually Zhou Hui, one lured him with a gentle trap, and the other intimidated him with his social status.
"You're smarter than I thought." Zhou Hui finally put down his glass. The sound of a printer starting up could be heard in the background. "Tomorrow morning at 10:00, the Legal Department will mail out the termination documents."
Before the video ended, Li Zhou noticed the upside-down photo frame on Zhou Hui's desk—a family photo he had never seen before. The sound of rain suddenly subsided, and Lin Xiaoman's fingers slid through his sweaty palm.
"Win?" she asked in a low voice.
Li Zhou looked out the window at the gradually subsiding rain. A crack appeared in the clouds, and sunlight streamed in like melted gold foil. He took out the silver chain and put it on Lin Xiaoman. The cold metal was quickly warmed by his body heat.
"It's not over yet." He kissed his girlfriend's tear-stained eyelashes. "But now is our time."
Three days later, Li Zhou received a formal termination letter in his internship email. Attached to the email was an encrypted folder. Upon opening it, he found the complete video from the cafe's surveillance camera—including the entire process of Zhou Hui adjusting the angle of his phone.
The sender field is blank, but the IP address shows that it comes from a cybersecurity company.
When the aroma of Lin Xiaoman's fried eggs wafted in from the kitchen, Li Zhou was opening the drawer and taking out the dusty sketchbook.
The first page was a painting of the campus lake scene he had made during his freshman year, with a red pen note by Lin Xiaoman in the corner: "Perspective error!"
My phone vibrated. A text message came from an unfamiliar number: "The New York branch has rescinded your offer. Best of luck with your studies."
Li Zhou smiled and dropped his phone into a glass filled with water. As the bubbles rose, he felt the slightly raised scar below his collarbone—a mark left by a childhood vaccination, a mark more enduring than any luxury item.
Outside the window, a few sycamore leaves fell. Lin Xiaoman hummed as she shoveled the fried egg onto the plate. The silver chain around her neck swayed gently with her movements, and the date engraved on the inside gleamed in the morning light.
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