3: Chapter 3 The security guard was fired

After leaving the security room, Xu Qingya returned directly to her apartment at Tomson Riviera.

Inside the elevator, she kept her head down, avoiding the angle of the security camera.

Her handbag covered the tear in the slit of her dress, and her gait looked somewhat awkward.

She entered and locked the door behind her.

The full-length mirror by the shoe cabinet clearly reflected her current disheveled state.

Her hair was messy, her makeup was mostly ruined, and there was a red mark above her collarbone.

Xu Qingya kicked her high heels into the corner of the entryway, peeled off the twenty-eight-thousand-yuan bodycon skirt, balled it up, and stuffed it directly into the trash can.

In the bathroom, she turned the showerhead to the maximum setting and adjusted the water temperature until it was scalding.

As the hot water poured down, she leaned her entire body against the tiled wall and closed her eyes.

Fragments of the scene from last night surfaced in her mind again.

Xu Qingya picked up a bath sponge and scrubbed every inch of her skin that had been touched by that man.

She had been in this industry for ten years; through countless drinking sessions and numerous times being forced to drink, she had never lost control.

Last night was the only time.

And of all people, it had to be a security guard.

She didn't stop until her skin was red and burning.

After rinsing for nearly forty minutes, she walked out wrapped in a bath towel.

As she passed the vanity, she habitually glanced at the mirror.

Then, her footsteps halted.

The woman in the mirror had skin that was rosy and white, with pores so fine they were almost invisible.

Xu Qingya leaned forward half a step.

The dullness caused by long-term late nights was gone.

The two fine lines at the corners of her eyes, which she had spent over a hundred thousand on hyaluronic acid injections to eliminate without success, had also faded.

Her entire face radiated a glow from within.

She reached out and touched her cheek.

The texture was so soft and smooth that even she was stunned.

This wasn't scientific.

Xu Qingya knew her skin condition too well.

Long-term late nights, socializing, and stress—at thirty, her skin foundation had long been overdrawn.

But this face in the mirror was even better than when she was twenty-five.

"How is this possible?"

She wiped the mist off the mirror and looked at it again.

Nothing had changed; it was still that face, looking several years younger.

With this face now, she could go on camera without any makeup.

Xu Qingya stared at the mirror for a long time before finally looking away.

A coincidence. It must be a coincidence.

She dried herself off, changed into pajamas, and lay down on the two-meter-wide bed.

The moment her head hit the pillow, sleepiness washed over her.

Xu Qingya's eyelids began to droop.

She hadn't felt this way in three years.

Suffering from excessive stress, she had to rely on sleeping pills to fall asleep every night, and would still wake up two or three times in the middle of the night.

She had seen the best neurologists in Kyoto and taken all kinds of imported medication, but nothing worked.

But now, she just lay down and felt sleepy.

Could it be because of last night...

The moment this thought popped up, Xu Qingya bit her lip and nipped this absurd idea in the bud.

She closed her eyes and quickly drifted into a deep sleep.

...

Eight-thirty in the morning, Tianyu Media building.

Jiang Fan sat in the security room with his breakfast spread out in front of him.

Two meat buns and a cup of soy milk, costing six yuan.

He watched the surveillance monitors while eating.

On the screens, employees were swiping their cards to enter the building one after another.

Agents in suits, interns with backpacks, and a few figures wearing masks and sunglasses who were clearly celebrities.

As he took a bite of the second bun, the door to the security room was pushed open.

A man in his early forties walked in, wearing a security uniform.

Pinned to his chest was a nameplate: Security Department Manager — Security Manager Zhao Guoqiang.

Security Manager Zhao Guoqiang scanned the security room first, sniffing the air as if he smelled a hint of high-end perfume.

His gaze lingered on the single bed for a second before moving away.

"Jiang Fan, right?"

"Yeah."

Security Manager Zhao Guoqiang took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, and put it in his mouth.

"The schedule for this month has been adjusted; you don't need to report for your shift anymore."

Jiang Fan swallowed the last bite of his bun and wiped his hands with a tissue.

"Brother Zhao, what does that mean?"

Security Manager Zhao Guoqiang blew a smoke ring.

"Fine, I'll be direct. You're fired. Finish your handover today and leave."

Jiang Fan's expression didn't change.

He finished his soy milk and placed the cup on the table.

"What's the reason?"

"Do I need a reason?" Security Manager Zhao Guoqiang leaned against the doorframe. "The company has the right to terminate the employment relationship at any time. It's written in your contract; didn't you read it?"

A few days ago, the other security guards had already told him.

This Security Manager Zhao Guoqiang's distant nephew had just arrived from his hometown and was looking for an easy job.

The security room was only so big; if one person came in, someone else had to be pushed out.

Who to push out? Naturally, the one with no connections and no background.

"Fine." Jiang Fan stood up, took off his uniform jacket, and placed it on the back of the chair.

Security Manager Zhao Guoqiang clearly hadn't expected him to be so agreeable and was taken aback.

He had prepared a whole speech before coming.

Things like "the company isn't doing well and needs to lay off staff" or "employees have complained about your attitude while on duty."

As it turned out, none of it was needed.

This feeling made him a bit uncomfortable, like punching a cotton ball.

"That's it?" Security Manager Zhao Guoqiang asked.

"What else?" Jiang Fan pulled an old backpack from under the bed and started stuffing his things into it.

There wasn't much in total—a few changes of clothes and a charger.

Jiang Fan put on his backpack, walked to the door, and then stopped.

"By the way, there's still 320 yuan in overtime pay from last month. Remember to deposit it into my card."

Before Security Manager Zhao Guoqiang could reply, he had already left.

He stood there with the cigarette in his mouth, feeling inexplicably that something wasn't right.

Jiang Fan walked through the hallway. When he passed the front desk, the young girl who greeted him every day looked up.

Seeing him with the backpack, a flash of surprise crossed her eyes.

Jiang Fan nodded at her and pushed the door open to leave.

Standing on the steps at the entrance of the building, he squinted at the sun overhead.

In his pocket, he had exactly the 18,000 yuan that Xu Qingya had left behind.

This amount of money in Kyoto would run out after paying a few months of rent.

Jiang Fan looked back at the glass-curtain building.

It wouldn't be long before he returned.

But the next time he walked through these doors, it wouldn't be as a security guard.

Just as Jiang Fan was about to walk away, a low rumble of an engine came from behind him.

A Porsche Panamera turned in from the street corner, its streamlined body reflecting the sunlight as it slowly drove toward the entrance of the underground garage on the side of the building.

The windows were tinted, making it impossible to see the person inside.

But Jiang Fan recognized this car.

The moment the car slowed down at the entrance of the garage, the window rolled down a crack.

Xu Qingya's gaze passed through the window and landed on the former security guard with the old backpack standing on the steps.

Only for a second. Then the window rolled back up.

The Panamera drove into the shadows of the underground garage, the red light of its taillights flashing once before disappearing.

Jiang Fan withdrew his gaze and walked away without looking back.

In the garage, the Panamera parked in its designated spot.

Xu Qingya didn't get out of the car immediately.

She leaned back against the leather seat, her gaze fixed on the concrete wall in front of the windshield.

Why was he carrying a backpack? Did he resign, or was he fired?

As soon as this thought popped up, she frowned.

If he was fired, would he go around spreading rumors about what happened last night?

Xu Qingya's fingertips tightened involuntarily, digging into the steering wheel cover.

Forget it, he's just a security guard; I doubt he would dare to spread nonsense.

Xu Qingya pushed the car door open and walked toward the elevator in her ten-centimeter high heels.

While waiting for the elevator, she thought again of her face in the mirror, which looked several years younger.

And that feeling of falling asleep for the first time in three years without relying on medication.

Xu Qingya got into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.

The elevator doors opened, and Xu Qingya walked briskly down the hallway.

Employees on both sides bowed and greeted her, but she only nodded slightly, radiating an aura of an icy queen who kept everyone at a distance.

Pushing open the office door, her assistant, Yang Lele, was holding a stack of notices and hurried up to meet her.

"Sister Qingya, you're finally here. The brand side is—"

Yang Lele's words came to an abrupt halt.

Her eyes were fixed directly on Xu Qingya's face, and the stack of notices almost slipped from her hands.