Forced by life
He forced himself to stay awake, got in front of the computer and tried to concentrate.
The jumping numbers and complex charts flew before his eyes.
He forced himself to calm down and analyze the report using a historical perspective: What was the purpose of the report? Where was the key evidence supporting the conclusions? Was this evidence sufficient and reliable? Where were the weaknesses in the existing chain of argument?
Time passed minute by minute, and beads of sweat the size of beans slid down Lin Yu'an's forehead.
He was completely focused, his fingers rapidly tapping out comments on the keyboard, his brain working at high speed, trying to carve out a path in this unfamiliar ocean of data.
He didn't even bother to wipe the sweat off his face, nor did he care about the protests in his stomach from nervousness and hunger.
Fifty-five minutes passed.
Lin Yu'an's face turned pale and his fingers trembled slightly, but he finally typed out the last comment, and quickly dragged the chart and modified the text to build a new conclusion page framework with clearer logic and more direct data support.
"Mr. Gu, the preliminary revision suggestions and framework have been marked in the document."
Lin Yu'an's voice was obviously tired and dry.
Gu Lin finally raised his head from another document and scanned the screen.
He read quickly, his fingers scrolling through the pages.
The office was eerily quiet, with only the sound of the mouse wheel and Lin Yu'an's own heartbeat like a drum.
A few seconds later, Gu Lin looked away and looked at Lin Yu'an, whose face was pale and eyes were bloodshot, but he was still trying to stand straight. His cold lips finally uttered the two most human words Lin Yu'an had heard today:
"Can."
Then, before Lin Yu'an could even catch his breath, he added, still without any warmth:
"Go eat. In half an hour, compile the background information I'll need for all my afternoon meetings and place it on my desk in order of priority."
Lin Yuan: “…”
He felt his vision go dark.
The moment he walked out of the president's office and closed the door, Lin Yu'an leaned against the cold door and let out a long breath.
He felt like he had just crawled out of a blizzard on the Siberian ice sheet, his whole body exhausted and his soul trembling.
He looked up at the high ceiling of the president's office, where the crystal chandelier reflected cold light.
First day.
Only half a day.
He had already deeply realized that working under the "living devil" Gu Lin.
What is needed is not historical literacy, but an iron will, octopus-like hand speed, and... a strong heart that is ready to explode on the spot at any time and be able to fight itself back!
The hands struggled past eight o'clock in the evening.
Lin Yu'an almost dragged his soul back to the rental house.
The key took three insertions before it found its way into the lock. I pushed open the door, and a familiar smell of instant noodles mixed with a faint milky aroma hit me in the face.
"Uncle!" Doupi rushed over like a little cannonball, hugged his legs, and his little face was full of excitement. "Grandma Zhang told Doupi about Ultraman fighting monsters! It was so awesome!"
The kind-hearted Aunt Zhang from next door poked her head out of the kitchen, spatula in hand: "Xiao An is back? Doupi is so well behaved, he ate half a bowl of rice for dinner! I even left some vegetables in the pot for you..."
"Aunt Zhang, thank you so much for troubling you!"
Lin Yu'an's voice was hoarse like a broken gong, and he forced a grateful smile, "Thanks so much to you today."
He took out a wrinkled fifty-yuan bill and stuffed it into Aunt Zhang's hand, and finally persuaded her to leave.
As soon as the door closed, all of Lin Yu'an's strength was instantly drained away.
He didn't even change his shoes, and just smashed himself into the sofa like a bag of cement, making a heavy muffled sound.
There was a pain in the joints of my bones, and my eyelids felt heavy as if they were filled with lead.
Gu Lin's icy face, his cold orders, the piles of documents, his demands that were so precise they were perverted...
It spun wildly in his mind like a kaleidoscope.
"Uncle? Uncle, get up and play!"
Doupi climbed on top of him and patted his face with his little hands.
“Be good, Doupi…” Lin Yu’an didn’t even have the strength to lift a finger, his voice unclear, “Uncle… is too tired… let uncle… sleep for a while… just for a while…”
Before he could finish his words, his heavy eyelids closed completely, and his consciousness instantly sank into endless darkness.
He didn't even have time to eat a bite of the food Aunt Zhang left for him. He just lay on the sofa in his wrinkled suit, snoring softly.
Doupi blinked his big eyes and looked at his uncle who had "turned off" his phone in an instant. He pouted his little mouth, but seemed to understand that his uncle was really tired.
He clumsily dragged his small blanket over and tried to cover Lin Yu'an with it, then sat obediently on the floor next to him, hugging his teddy bear and playing with it quietly by himself.
***
In the following days, Lin Yu'an felt like he was living in the eighteenth level of hell, and Gu Lin was the King of Hell who was in charge of torture.
"Devil's Schedule" Record:
6:30 in the morning: I was woken up by the alarm clock. With my hair in a mess, I hurriedly dressed Doupi, washed him, and fed him breakfast. It was like a war, and I stuffed him into the kindergarten bus.
8:50: He showed up on time in the CEO's office on the 28th floor. What greeted him was often the cold "beep" of the internal phone and Gu Lin's cold command:
"Lin Yu'an, XX project contract, identify all potential legal risk points and mark them. Half an hour."
"Video conference with Phaeton International at 3 pm. Background information, resumes of their core members, and our bottom-line plan will be on my desk in an hour."
"Coffee. Water temperature 89.5 degrees Celsius, crema thickness 3mm, now."
Morning: Running around in a whirlwind of "impossible" tasks. Gu Lin's demands are always demanding and time pressures are tight. Documents must be error-free, data must be accurate to two decimal places, and schedules must be accurate to the minute with ample buffer time.
Lin Yu'an felt like a high-speed spinning top, being whipped mercilessly by Gu Lin.
Noon: Precious lunch time is often compressed to 15 minutes, because Mr. Gu might suddenly throw in a document that "needs to be dealt with urgently" at 12:55. What does the food in the staff cafeteria taste like? Lin Yu'an has no time to savor it; he just wolfs it down.
Afternoon: Usually a hell of meetings. Lin Yu'an needs to prepare all meeting materials in advance, quickly take minutes during the meeting, and Gu Lin speaks fast and densely packed with information. Immediately after the meeting, he organizes and distributes the materials, and keeps track of all to-do items.
Gu Lin was full of energy and sharp words in the meeting, often asking questions that made the executives sweat. Lin Yu'an felt suffocated listening to him.
Evening: You thought it was time to get off work? Naive! Gu Lin was a renowned workaholic. Lin Yu'an had to compile and organize all the documents, emails, and minutes he'd handled that day, filing them into folders to ensure Gu Lin could get back to work the next morning. Often, he'd be so busy that by the time the lights came on, the only lights on the 28th floor were his and the president's offices.
Evening: Dragging his legs, exhausted, he squeezed into the subway home to pick up Doupi, who was eagerly waiting. With Aunt Zhang's help, he bathed Doupi, told him a story, and coaxed him to sleep. By the time the little one finally fell asleep, Lin Yu'an was exhausted, barely breathing.
Half a month later, Lin Yu'an had lost weight, had dark circles under his eyes, and seemed to be floating when he walked.
The worst thing is that payday is on the 25th of every month, and today is only the 20th.
He only had a few dozen wrinkled dollars left in his pocket, and he almost didn't have enough money to buy Doupi a new pack of bear biscuits.
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