Room 808.
Trạch Đông frowned, his gaze fixed on the fountain pen that had just been placed on his desk.
Sunlight from the tall windows slanted across the room, catching the intricate engravings on the pen's matte-black surface. The glint of silver seemed to stir something long buried in his memory.
"Hiểu Linh, this pen..." he said evenly, though something flickered behind his composed eyes. "A girl brought it?"
"Yes, sir," Hiểu Linh replied, bowing slightly as if afraid to disturb the air. "She said you dropped it."
He gave a faint nod and waved his hand, dismissing her silently.
The room fell silent once more.
Alone in the vast space, Trạch Đông picked up the pen, turning it slowly between his fingers. His fingertips brushed over the intricate engravings—delicate lines that felt, somehow, like touching memory for the first time.
A fleeting image passed through his mind—not clear, not tangible, but like a shattered fragment of a dream: a pair of jet-black eyes, long hair cascading down soft shoulders, a voice as gentle as the first spring breeze.
Yet... just out of reach.
It didn't feel like memory. It felt more like instinct—a flicker of recognition born not from the mind, but from somewhere deeper. As if a door had quietly creaked open at the bottom of his soul, letting through the first sliver of light from something long forgotten.
"Familiar," he murmured under his breath, eyes darkening. "But why?"
It wasn't memory—couldn't be. He was certain he had never met that girl before. And yet... why did something inside him stir so violently?
Trạch Đông's gaze shifted to the glass window, where his reflection stared back—cold, composed, emotionless.
But deep beneath that calm surface, something had been quietly lit.
Something small.
Something impossible to contain.
Third floor.
Bạch Lan sat before a stack of files, the scent of old paper mixed with printer ink making her head spin. She tried her best to concentrate, but her tired eyes kept wandering—until they stopped at a name that made her heart skip a beat.
"Trạch Đông."
Her eyes widened. A jolt ran down her spine like a current of electricity.
"Chief Executive Officer… Trạch Đông?"
She flipped back through the file, comparing the ID photo with the tall figure she had seen in the elevator that morning.
There was no mistake.
"So it was… him."
She muttered under her breath, frustration caught in her throat.
"Didn't even say thank you just because he's the boss?!"
But the emotions stirring within her weren't just irritation.
That name… those eyes…
They didn't just make her uncomfortable.
They made her feel—lost.
It was that strange feeling again.
Like she had met him before.
Like she had once stood close beside him...
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember where, or when.
"This is so strange…"
She shook her head, trying to dispel the fog that had begun to gather in her mind.
That evening.
The small house glowed under warm yellow lights. From the kitchen came the bubbling sound of boiling water and the soft clatter of chopsticks and dishes.
"Bạch Nhi, dinner's ready! What are you staring at?"
Thanh Nhi set down a bowl of soup on the table, eyeing her younger sister who was still sitting motionless in a daze.
"Oh—yes, coming!"
Startled, Bạch Lan quickly put away her papers and forced a smile as she rushed over.
"So? How was your first day at work?"
Thanh Nhi asked, half-curious, half-concerned.
"It was... fine. Totally fine."
"If you're saying that, the sky's probably about to fall."
Thanh Nhi snorted but didn't press further.
Late at night.
Bạch Lan lay still on her bed.
The clock ticked away the seconds.
Darkness swallowed the room, leaving only the pale glow of moonlight spilling through the window.
She couldn't sleep.
Her mind was a tangled mess.
Trạch Đông's face kept flickering in and out of focus. But what unsettled her more… was how closely it resembled the man from her dreams. And yet—not quite.
She couldn't recall his face. The features were blurred, his figure undefined.
But she remembered the feeling—warmth. A protective embrace. Eyes that looked at her like she was once theirs.
But was it him?
Was it Trạch Đông?
Or someone else entirely?
Her thoughts drifted slowly into the mist of night.
***
In her dream.
Flickering fire. Howling wind.
A small thatched cottage nestled deep in the mountains, like a haven detached from the world.
He stepped toward her, gaze gentle, placing a hand softly on her hair.
"Little Bạch..."
She turned her head, eyes shimmering with warmth.
"Why aren't you resting?"
He didn't answer—just pulled her into his arms, his breath hot against her ear.
"No matter what happens tomorrow… don't ever leave me."
A sense of peace wrapped around her like a lullaby.
But it lasted only for a moment.
Suddenly, the wind howled like a beast awakened.
The door burst open.
A thick wave of black smoke surged in from outside, cold as death's shadow.
She screamed, clinging to him with all her strength. But the whirlwind—like a living soul—ripped her from his arms in an instant.
"Tiểu Bạch!!!" he roared, panic consuming his eyes.
Her hand was torn away.
Through blurred tears, her trembling lips called out:
"Trạch… Trạch… Hiên…"
A moment of chaos.
The wind screamed. Leaves scattered.
And then— Her voice faded.
Everything vanished into the void.
***
"Ah!"
Bạch Lan jolted upright.
Sweat soaked her skin. Her chest heaved, heart racing wildly as if it were trying to escape her body.
She sat still, eyes wide, staring blankly into the darkness ahead.
Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion.
The name she had just cried out… what was it?
She clutched her head, tears streaming uncontrollably.
Why couldn't she remember?
Why… couldn't she see his face?
Only the feeling remained—an aching sorrow, a sense of loss so painfully familiar it stole her breath.
And each time she woke up, the line between dream and reality blurred a little more.
Was she mourning someone from this life… or someone from a lifelong past?
And them...
Would they still remember her?