Chapter 10
880words
Professionally, I led my team to successfully secure several well-known major projects in the industry, achieving outstanding results, and my reputation in the company rose accordingly.
Vincent Wells didn't give me any special treatment because of our personal relationship; he simply acted as a supervisor and friend who appreciated me, providing the most professional advice and solid support when I needed it.
The relationship between us also naturally warmed up within this unspoken understanding.
He would invite me to watch newly released art films, and afterward we would argue endlessly about the plot and characters; he would take me to discover specialty restaurants hidden in corners of the city, showing an indulgent smile when he saw me eating contentedly; he would also quietly keep me company during late nights when I worked overtime, until I finished my work, and then send me home.
He never said "I like you," but everything he did expressed his affection.
This is a kind of healthy, respectful feeling that I have never experienced before. My heart is also gradually melting in this gentle tenderness that moistens silently.
Just when I thought I was about to take root completely in the warm city of Nancheng and start a brand new life, a sudden transfer order disrupted all plans.
Because of my outstanding performance in the Nancheng branch, the senior management at the Shanghai headquarters highly recognized me. The group CEO personally issued a transfer order, hoping that I could return to the Shanghai headquarters to serve as the deputy manager of the newly established and crucial "Brand Strategy Department."
This was undoubtedly a once-in-a-lifetime promotion opportunity, a leap that all professionals dream of.
However, when I saw the two characters for "Shanghai" on the transfer order, my heart still involuntarily contracted.
Shanghai.
The city that carried my five-year nightmare.
The city with people and things I most wanted to escape from.
The heartbreaking place I had sworn never to set foot in again.
I fell into an intense ideological struggle.
On one side was a bright career future within reach; on the other side was a bloody wound that might be reopened.
Should I go or not?
In the evening, I took a walk along the river with my only good friend I had made in South City. I confided my troubles to her.
My friend cut straight to the point: "Jessie, tell me, are you afraid of that city, or are you afraid of that person you dumped two years ago? If it's the former, we won't go; but if it's the latter, I think you should go even more. Because running away will never solve the problem. Only when you stand in a higher place than him, letting him see how brilliantly you're living without him, that's when you've truly won."
My friend's words were like lightning, splitting the fog in my mind.
Indeed, I'm no longer the Jessica Johnson from two years ago who needed to rely on him to survive. I have my own career, an independent personality, and the courage to cut off the nightmares of the past. Why should I be afraid?
Shouldn't he be the one who's afraid?
Vincent Wells also learned the news. He invited me to the coffee shop where we first met, remained silent for a long while before speaking.
"Jessica, I hope you can go," his gaze was incredibly sincere. "Your talent shouldn't be limited to this small place like South City. The Shanghai headquarters is the phoenix tree that will allow a phoenix like you to truly undergo rebirth and soar high."
He paused, looking at me, his voice carrying a solemn gentleness I had never heard before.
"If you go back, don't do it for anyone else, just for your own career and future. Whatever decision you make, I will support you."
Then, as if he had made some kind of resolution, he revealed news that shocked me.
"Also, due to strategic adjustments in the group, I will be transferred back to Shanghai headquarters next quarter." He looked at me, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "So, if you go back, at least you won't be facing everything alone."
Vincent's words were like a powerful warm current, instantly dispersing the last trace of gloom in my heart.
I looked at him and nodded firmly.
I replied to the company executives, accepting the transfer.
A week later, I once again boarded the flight to Shanghai.
As the plane traveled through the clouds, I looked out at the rolling sea of clouds, my feelings complicated. Two years ago, I had fled hastily from this city, like a disheveled deserter; two years later, I was returning voluntarily, like a warrior about to head into battle.
This time, I wasn't doing it for anyone else.
Only for myself.
I thought that Shanghai was so big, with a population of over 20 million, that as long as I deliberately avoided certain areas, I would never have any more encounters with Francis Foster.
But I forgot that fate sometimes acts like a scriptwriter who enjoys playing pranks.
Its specialty is making you cross paths with your past when you least expect it.
