Star City—a metropolis of desire meticulously draped in neon lights and soaring skyscrapers. By day, it serves as the battlefield where finance's elite wield power; by night, it becomes a hunting ground for pleasure-seekers. The air is forever thick with the metallic stench of money and an intoxicating sweetness, enough to enrapture and bewilder any soul.
Yet for Lu Chen, the city's dazzling splendor feels like an exquisite caricature hung impossibly on the far horizon—beautiful, but wholly irrelevant to him.
It was 9:30 AM in the A Sales Division of FeiChi Group. As always, Lu Chen swiped in ten minutes early, then slipped back to the most remote, least favored corner of the open‐plan office. His desk sat beside a roaring air‐conditioning vent that belched moldy breaths—steaming hot in summer, freezing cold in winter. On the desktop lay only an old "QiHang" computer, slow as a tractor, a battered stack of product brochures that had never yielded a single sale, and a chipped ceramic mug bearing the faded company logo.
Just as he was about to hang his stiff, threadbare jacket over the chair, a faint, lily-of-the-valley–fresh fragrance—like morning dew on petals—wafted past, accompanied by the crisp tap of high heels on linoleum.
Lu Chen froze mid-motion, his peripheral vision flicking toward the source.
It was Xu Tingxia.
The office's undisputed beauty, fresh out of college, whose innocent, heart-stopping face and perfectly contoured figure—clad in a tailored pencil skirt—had already made her the center of adoration among the testosterone-fueled sales team. Today she wore a fitted off-white blazer over a silk V-neck blouse that revealed just a hint of a tempting cleavage. A knee-length black skirt hugged her curves, and her long, slender legs—encased in sheer stockings—took each step in silver seven-centimeter stiletto heels, sending tremors through the hearts of every male in her path.
Her chestnut waves spilled over her shoulders, a few playful strands brushing her smooth forehead. If she wore makeup at all, it was so subtle it seemed like none—her skin so translucent it might weep moisture, her large, clear eyes shining with innocent curiosity that contrasted sharply with her mature, voluptuous form. The deadly allure of that contrast left Lu Chen's heart pounding fiercely in his chest.
He dared only to stole a glance—and then snapped his gaze away like a startled rabbit, cheeks aflame.
To Lu Chen, Xu Tingxia was like a star in the heavens, a creature so far out of reach that even dreaming of her felt like sacrilege.
Just as her graceful figure was about to vanish through the tea room door, a crude, oily voice shattered the moment like mud churned in clear water:
"Well, well, Xia Xia, you've outdone yourself today…wow, you're looking more womanly by the day!"
Lu Chen didn't need to turn around to recognize its owner: Wang Hai, his direct supervisor and the captain of Sales Group A. His bloodshot eyes roved hungrily over Xu Tingxia's curves, filled with undisguised lust. He even thrust out his bloated beer belly, slicking back his thinning hair in a self-satisfied flourish that reeked of arrogance.
Xu Tingxia's delicate brows knotted ever so slightly, a flicker of disgust in her bright eyes, but she forced a polite, distant smile. "Good morning, Team Leader Wang," she murmured, then hastened into the tea room.
Wang Hai let out a low, throaty chuckle, eyes still glued to her retreating figure before flicking contemptuously to Lu Chen, who stood frozen in place. In an instant, the sneering glint in his eyes turned sharp and icy. He slammed a file onto Lu Chen's desk so hard that the chipped mug bounced.
"Lu Chen!" he barked, voice slicing through the air like glass. "What's this 'Hongyuan Heavy Industries' client follow-up report? Three days gone and still no deal? Are you here to sleepwalk and ogle pretty girls?"
His words left Lu Chen's face flaming with shame.
"Team Leader, Manager Liu from Hongyuan did say he…" Lu Chen began, voice trembling with a mix of indignation and humiliation.
"I don't want excuses!" Wang Hai snapped, jabbing a nicotine-stained finger at Lu Chen's nose. "I want results! If you don't close that deal by the end of this month, pack your bags and get out—FeiChi Group doesn't pay slackers, let alone fantasizing slackers!"
The office air seemed to freeze. Lu Chen could feel his coworkers' eyes on him, and stifled laughter rippled through the desks around him.
Humiliation—raw, naked humiliation.
His fists clenched so tightly that his nails bit into his palms, sending stab after stab of pain through him. He knew Wang Hai was making an example of him, punishing him for daring to glance at Xu Tingxia, someone far above his humble, ant-like station.
At lunch, while colleagues clustered by the elevator debating whether to try the new sushi place with its "sexy" waitresses or the open-air café famed for its black-stockinged beauties, Lu Chen retreated to the stairwell. From his drawer he pulled a three-yuan steamed bun wrapped in plastic and washed it down with tepid, bleach-tainted water from the dispenser, devouring each bite in isolation.
With every mouthful, he replayed Xu Tingxia's fleeting radiance and Wang Hai's repulsive leer. Two serpents—one a fierce longing for beauty, the other a venomous self-loathing—tore at his heart.
He yearned to don a proper suit, dine in upscale restaurants, cruise the streets in a sleek sports car with someone like Xu Tingxia by his side. He wanted, in those moments when Wang Hai lorded his power over him, to have the courage to fling his resignation letter in that oily face.
But reality?
His monthly salary of 3,500 yuan couldn't even buy him dignity in this gilded cage. He didn't know where he'd find 700 yuan for next month's rent. He was nothing but an ant, trampled at will by people like Wang Hai—without even the nerve to fight back.
That afternoon, Wang Hai appeared at Lu Chen's desk once more, his face split by a smug smirk that dripped with contempt.
"Little Lu," he cooed, patting Lu Chen's shoulder with a grip like a cold hammer, "the first draft of the 'QiHang Initiative' promo materials is ready. Don't just stand there—print 300 copies, full-color on top-grade coated paper, each neatly bound. I want them on my desk before you leave today, and with the director's signature no less."
Lu Chen took the thick sheaf of papers, his heart sinking. Three hundred color prints on premium stock, bound and signed, all in under two hours—an impossible demand.
Wang Hai was dead set on crushing him.
Lu Chen's lips quivered as if to protest, but only a silent sigh escaped him, swallowed by the unfeeling rhythm of keyboards and indifferent glances in this steel jungle.
He knew this urban ant was about to be ground to dust.
Yet deep in his lowered eyes, a single, almost frantic spark of defiance flickered—unnoticed by all but himself.