The files were heavier than they looked. Not physically, though the weathered leather binders were thick, but mentally.
Mei flipped the first one open, her eyes scanning the contents with practiced speed. Floor plans. Structural revisions. Red-ink markups from a decade ago. Then more revisions. It was a labyrinth of data: notes layered over notes, some contradicting each other, some completely unnecessary, and some… intentionally inefficient.
She turned a page. Then another. Her brows pulled together, just slightly.
"This doesn't lead anywhere," she said, her voice echoing in the quiet of the 12th floor.
Shaolin didn't look up from her own stack of vellum. "It does."
"Where? Every calculation here loops back to a structural load that was already dismissed in the 1994 audit."
"That's the point."
A pause. Mei looked at her, really looked at her. Shaolin finally glanced up, pushing her thick glasses higher on the bridge of her nose.
"Madame Shen is training for endurance," Shaolin said, her voice flat. "She wants to see if you'll stop when it gets boring."
"That's not training. That's punishment."
"In this wing, it's the same thing."
Mei leaned back slightly in her chair, crossing her legs. The lace of her slip caught faintly under the harsh desk light, unnoticed or simply ignored by the girl across from her.
"She's not even in the country," Mei said.
"She doesn't need to be. She knows exactly how long it takes a person to realize they're running in circles." Another file hit the desk, Shaolin pushing a portion of the audit toward her. "You'll fall behind if you keep over-analyzing the 'why'."
"I don't fall behind," Mei said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet register.
Shaolin gave a short, dry smile. "Everyone says that until they do."
Mei picked up the next file. She didn't respond.
Two hours passed. The office shifted around them, junior architects coming and going, the low hum of professional chatter rising and falling, but their island of two stayed the same. Quiet. Focused. Tense.
Mei moved fast. Shaolin noticed the speed. She didn't comment. She didn't need to; the competitive air between them was thick enough to choke on.
Another hour. Mei stopped. Not because she was tired, but because something clicked. She flipped back three pages, then forward again, then cross-referenced a separate file entirely.
Same structure. Same pattern. Same… flaw.
Mei let out a quiet breath through her nose. Of course not. She leaned back again. Her jaw tightened. This wasn't random. It couldn't be. A top-tier recruit being sent to a "punishment" wing her first week? It was a calculated move.
She closed the file again. "I'm going to HR."
Shaolin's pen paused mid-mark. Then it continued. "Do that."
"You're not coming?"
"No."
"Why? You're second-ranked. Don't you want to know why you are being used for manual data-looping?"
"Because I chose this," Shaolin said, her voice cutting. "I'm exactly where I planned to be. You're the one who was discarded."
A beat.
"I wasn't discarded," Mei said softly. "I was moved."
Shaolin glanced up, her expression unreadable behind the thick lenses. "Then you should probably find out why."
By the time Mei got to the HR floor, it looked exactly the same as it had that morning.
Mei stood at the desk again, her leather file in hand.
"I'd like to revisit my placement," she said, her voice a calm, professional melody.
The woman behind the desk smiled, recognition flickering briefly in her eyes. "Of course, Miss Lin. What seems to be the issue now?"
"I was reassigned without explanation."
"As mentioned earlier, Miss Lin—"
"I'm not asking for the policy," Mei cut in, her tone sweet but as sharp as a razor. "I'm asking for the reason."
"I'm afraid that's not something we disclose to junior staff. Can yu imagine every recruit complaining about their placement?"
Mei held her gaze for five long seconds.
"We're confident in your placement," the woman said finally.
Mei didn't go to HR to "revisit" her placement after then. She went to read the people in the HR team.
She spent Tuesday and Wednesday rotated through different desks, always with a different, low-stakes excuse, updating her emergency contact, asking about the corporate gym membership, or verifying her payroll tax ID.
Each time, she watched. She watched their microexpressions and body language. Most of them were stone-faced, but by Thursday afternoon, she found her "wak-link."
Laoyi, a junior HR associate who looked like she was drowning in the mid-week rush, very emotional and talkative.
At 6:05 PM, Mei was waiting by the elevator bank. As Laoyi stepped out, looking exhausted, Mei slipped into step beside her like they were old friends.
"Rough day?" Mei asked, her voice light and commiserating.
Laoyi jumped slightly, recognizing the #1 recruit. "Oh! Mei. Yes, just… the usual chaos."
"I'm heading to that new lounge across the street for a drink to wash off the week," Mei said, tilting her head with a playful, effortless charm. "You look like you need one more than I do. My treat, consider it thank you gift for helping us with our onboarding."
Laoyi hesitated. . . "Just one."