The Morpho's Flight

2023. July. North City was sweltering in the midsummer heat, having just been scrubbed by a torrential downpour.

Outside the glass walls of the CBD high-rises, the sky was a deep, cloudless blue. Sunlight poured unchecked into the thirty-ninth-floor office, brilliant and blinding as it spilled across the rows of cubicles.

"Vanny, have you really been buried in client files all through lunch? Did you even eat?"

"..."

A head popped over the partition of the window-side cubicle. A young intern, who had joined just before the summer break, leaned over with a look of pure admiration.

Aria Addison looked up from the mountain of English documents at the sound of the girl's voice. She slid off her thin-rimmed glasses, her slender wrist appearing almost translucent in the harsh glare of the sun. She glanced down at the burgundy leather strap of her watch.

"Oh. It looks like I lost track of time," Aria said. She tilted her head back, her almond-shaped eyes curving into a gentle, approachable smile that crinkled at the corners. Her dark pupils held a soft, harmless shimmer. "Thanks for the reminder."

"It’s nothing, really! I just noticed when I got back... but honestly, Vanny, you work so hard. No wonder you’re already a team lead at your age."

The intern made a face of mock despair. "I’m only a few years younger than you, but I still trip over basic interpretation, let alone simultaneous work."

"Don't worry about it. It just takes time. Give it a few years of practice and you'll get there."

"I hope so! Anyway, you should go grab something to eat quickly. Lunch break is almost over. I’m heading back to my desk, okay?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

"..."

Aria watched the intern walk away before lowering her head, the curve of her pale neck elegant and slight.

She pressed her fingertips to the space between her eyebrows, her smile fading into a look of quiet fatigue. She reached down to organize the foreign language materials on her desk, which were covered in a rainbow of highlighter marks.

Before she could finish sorting the files into their respective stacks, her phone vibrated on the desk.

Her long, pale fingers swiped across the black glass screen. She leaned her head to the side, catching the notification out of the corner of her eye.

It was Riley Rose.

Riley was one of Aria’s few friends from high school—essentially her only confidante. They had stayed in touch for over seven years since graduation, though their conversations were usually reserved for holidays. It was rare for her to call during work hours.

Aria was surprised, but she tilted her head to pin the phone against her ear with her shoulder, keeping her hands free to continue sorting papers.

"Riley? What’s going on? Why are you—"

Aria didn't even get halfway through her sentence before Riley’s high-pitched voice cut her off.

"Have you heard?! Miles Masters is coming back to China!"

The finger reaching for the next page froze mid-air.

For a single, breathless second, Aria went rigid as if struck by a physical blow. Then, just as quickly, she recovered. She looked down, noticing a thin white line where the edge of the paper had sliced into her fingertip.

A moment later, a bead of crimson blood welled up from the cut.

Aria pressed her thumb over the wound, her expression unreadable. "Miles Masters? Never heard of him."

"???"

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. After a few seconds, Riley’s voice returned, sharp and indignant. "Stop playing dumb! In our whole class—no, in the whole school—you’re the one person who doesn't get to say that, okay?"

"What do you want from me? You’re talking like I’m still in high school."

Aria’s voice was lazy and nonchalant, but her fingers failed several times to pick up a single sheet of paper that had drifted to the floor.

Her brow furrowed. Finally, she gave up and leaned back into her chair.

The black leather chair swiveled half a turn, facing her toward the floor-to-ceiling window and the relentless, beautiful sunlight.

Aria closed her eyes, her voice sounding drowsy from the warmth. "High school was a lifetime ago, Riley. Who even remembers that stuff?"

"Fine, fine. Keep playing the fool."

Aria could practically hear Riley rolling her eyes. "We can drop the subject of Miles, then. But what’s this about you?"

"What about me?"

"What do you mean, 'what about you'? I’m twenty-eight kilometers away and even I heard my colleagues gossiping today. They’re saying the great beauty of the simultaneous interpretation world is about to become her boss's wife."

Aria sighed, rubbing her temples in exasperation. "We worked together on one project. Your colleagues are clearly bored."

"What else are people supposed to do at work?" Riley countered with fake sternness. "Don't change the subject. Confess! Little Butterfly, have your wings grown so strong that you’re hiding a relationship from your best friend?"

"I’m not. Harvey’s family is pressuring him to get married, so he’s using me as a shield."

"Of all the excuses he could use, he picks you? I told you when you joined that translation firm—your senior definitely has ulterior motives!"

After her critique, Riley’s tone shifted.

"But honestly, your senior is a decent catch. He’s got money, and while he’s no Miles Masters, at least his face is... reliable. Not like Miles. That guy was born with the face of a home-wrecker. No wonder he’s your ex-husband... oh wait, you dumped him before you even got to the altar. So, ex-boyfriend."

Aria felt a headache coming on. "Don't talk nonsense, Counselor Rose. You know better than anyone that slander is a crime."

Not giving Riley a chance to elaborate, Aria pretended to hear something in the office. "We’re about to start a meeting. Talk to you later."

"..."

Having successfully escaped the call, Aria let out a breath of relief. Her arm dropped to her lap, phone still clutched in her hand.

The sunlight was so bright that when she closed her eyes, halos of light danced behind her eyelids.

Miles Masters.

The most breathtaking person of her youth. A person no one could ever truly forget.

During the year they studied abroad together, she had once teased him while curled in his arms. She told him the other students called him a 'cold sun' behind his back. Hanging in the sky, icy, untouchable, yet radiating a blinding light.

He had been utterly dismissive of the remark, but he’d listened to her finish with a scowl before catching her hand and pressing it to his heart. He would lean in, whispering a low 'threat' in her ear: "Aria Addison, who are you calling inhuman?" Then, just as he did every night, he would bow his head, his long neck curving down to kiss her brow, her earlobe, and her throat with a tenderness that was always perfectly restrained.

Aria knew the rumors were right. In their student days, Miles Masters had always been the most arrogant, solitary sun in any crowd.

But eventually, that arrogance had broken. In a downpour so heavy it felt like the sky was falling, his black hair and white shirt had been soaked through. He had looked utterly pathetic, yet he hadn't cared. He had simply gripped her hand with a stubborn, desperate strength, his voice raspy.

"Five years. Give me five years at most, and I'll give you everything you want."

"..."

"Just wait for me, okay?"

"..."

Aria sighed and opened her eyes.

The sunlight was a steady pour; the curtain of rain from her memories had long since vanished.

She turned her head, looking toward the whitest wall in the office space.

Posters were plastered one after another across the surface, all bearing the same bold heading: Helena Tech: Technical Seminar on Optimal Design of Ablative Thermal Protection Materials.

Every single poster featured the same man’s profile under the spotlight.

He no longer looked like a boy. His black hair was still styled in that same loose, slightly messy way. His white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, was tucked casually into a black leather belt, emphasizing a lean waist and long, powerful legs.

He was still the same. No matter where he stood, he commanded the light.

And then there was that face.

Miles had always possessed extraordinary features, but years of worldliness had carved them into something sharper. His youthful arrogance had matured into a deep, heavy sexuality.

Aria thought that Riley’s description—the face of a home-wrecker—was perhaps the most irreverent way to put it, yet also the most accurate.

Two male interpreters from the firm walked past the posters, clutching their water mugs.

"Tsk. This is supposed to be an aerospace materials seminar hosted by Helena Tech, but look at these posters. You’d think it was a Miles Masters fan club."

"Looks are capital, especially when you look like that."

"True. No wonder the girls in the office are going crazy along with Mr. Hudson. But look at Helena Tech’s standing in the private aerospace sector—why would they choose a small shop like ours for an international seminar?"

"..."

"A person has to have dreams."

A playful voice drifted into the quiet of the lunch hour.

The two men stiffened. "Mr. Westmoreland."

A chubby, middle-aged man leaning against the glass door of his office didn't seem to mind. He peered across the office toward Aria, who was trying her best to look like part of the furniture. "Aria."

With a resigned sigh, Aria stood up under the increasingly nervous gaze of the two male colleagues.

Mr. Westmoreland waved his phone. "Harvey just called. He’s on his way back. Get things ready. We’re having a strategy meeting at two o’clock in the conference room regarding the Helena Tech project."

"Understood. I'll notify the team."

"..."

Half an hour later, inside the conference room.

"Vanny," the intern whispered, stopping beside Aria as she set out bottles of mineral water. "Is Mr. Hudson really still dead-set on the Helena Tech seminar?"

Aria took a bottle and offered a faint smile. "I suppose he has his reasons."

"I don't think it's a reason, I think it's a delusion," Daphne Donovan, the leader of Team Two, said with a cold smirk. She sat across the table, spinning a pen between her fingers. Aria and Daphne had never seen eye to eye. "We’re a blade of grass trying to reach for a giant redwood like Helena Tech? Vanny, even if the young Mr. Hudson is your future husband, you don't need to defend him this hard, do you?"

The 'joke' prompted a wave of snickering from half the room.

It was mostly Daphne’s team, backing their leader. Aria’s team, composed of younger interpreters, looked indignant, a few of them on the verge of snapping back.

Aria spoke first, her tone calm and steady. "Team Leader Donovan, we don't mix personal matters with professional ones. I thought that was a basic standard of our career."

"Oh?" Daphne straightened her chair with a sneer. "Then why don't you put aside the personal and tell me this: Helena Tech is the unicorn of the private aerospace industry. They’re a media darling. This seminar is their CTO's first public appearance since returning to the country. Every major translation firm in the country is fighting for this contract. What exactly do we have to compete with?"

Just as Aria was about to respond, her phone buzzed on the table.

She glanced down.

A message from Harvey Hudson: "Today's meeting is crucial. Make sure every interpreter from the project department is there."

Aria typed back a quick "Understood."

By the time she looked up, the interpreters around the table had picked up on Daphne’s question and were deep in discussion.

"I think Daphne’s right. Mr. Hudson is still young. He’s only been running the firm for two years; he doesn't understand the market. We aren't even in the top twenty. It really is a bit of a pipe dream."

"Word on the street is that Transpeak and Dream-link have already made their moves. They’re playing for keeps."

"Helena is a subsidiary of the Masters Group, after all, and it was founded by the Crown Prince himself. Anyone with eyes can see he’s the future of the entire conglomerate. Who wouldn't want to latch onto that?"

"Exactly. We could work ourselves to death for a month and not even get a scrap of the leftovers."

"..."

As the conversation spiraled, Aria didn't bother trying to settle scores with Daphne.

In truth, she didn't believe their firm could land the Helena Tech project either. Aside from the logistical gaps the others mentioned, she had her own reasons. Given their history, the last thing Aria wanted was to be involved in this project.

But someone was determined to drag her in.

"I almost forgot, we can't say there’s no hope at all," Daphne said, eyeing Aria sideways. "Our firm does have the 'First Beauty of Interpretation,' Vanny Addison, sitting right here. Who knows? Maybe that Mr. Masters will find her a refreshing change of pace and pick us just for her, right?"

"............"

Aria was momentarily speechless at Daphne’s sheer gall.

After a few seconds, she looked up and returned a perfectly sweet, harmless smile. "Not at all. My looks are quite ordinary. Perhaps you should lead the charge yourself, Team Leader Donovan."

"—"

The pen Daphne was spinning clattered onto the table.

One of the interpreters from Team One, trying to stifle a laugh, quickly jumped in to smooth things over. "Unlikely. You think Miles Masters is like our Mr. Hudson? Back when Helena Tech first exploded onto the scene, the media dug up everything they could on him. Apparently, he was badly burned by a past relationship. He doesn't let women—or anyone—get close. They say his return this time, besides the new materials project, is to finalize an engagement with the daughter of the He family—the finance tycoons."

"..."

Aria’s eyelashes fluttered as she turned to the next page of the file in front of her.

Unlike her, the room was now fully ablaze with the spirit of gossip.

Even the members of Team Two forgot their rivalry, leaning in curiously. "Burned? The Crown Prince of the Masters Group? What kind of person could hurt someone like him? Tell us!"

"Can't say if it's true or not, but the foreign press dug it up ages ago. They said he had a 'white moonlight' first love who took a few million in a breakup fee and dumped him without a second thought."

"Hahaha, seriously? Just a few million? Forget his father’s industrial empire—even his own startup, Helena, was worth hundreds of millions years ago. That ex-girlfriend was incredibly short-sighted."

"Exactly. With a guy that handsome, I’d pay him to stay."

"She must be dying of regret right now. Probably plotting how to crawl back to him and beg for a second chance."

"..."

The professional terminology she knew so well suddenly felt like a foreign tongue. She recognized the words, but their meanings refused to penetrate her mind.

Aria squeezed her palm and closed the folder.

She picked up her phone and checked her private messages. She saw Riley’s text from ten minutes ago.

[Riley]: I just had a thought.

[Riley]: Do you think Miles Masters came back because he heard about the "wedding news" between you and your senior?

"—"

Aria’s perfect smile nearly shattered.

She knew it was impossible, yet her mind went blank for a heartbeat.

"...Vanny, don't you agree?"

The intern gave her arm a light nudge, pulling her back to reality.

Aria blinked, turning her head. "Agree with what?"

"About Miles Masters's ex-girlfriend."

In her distracted state, Aria failed to notice the members of Team Two across the table. They were staring at the conference room door behind her, their faces turning pale as if they’d seen a ghost.

She rested her chin on her hand and gave a dismissive shrug. "Who knows? Maybe his ex-girlfriend is off living her best life with those millions. Maybe she'll only go back to beg for him once the money runs out."

Just as the last syllable left her lips—

*Click.*

The conference room door shut behind her.

Immediately after, it felt as though an invisible, freezing wind had swept down from the northernmost glaciers of Siberia.

Aria’s heart skipped a beat. She turned around.

Standing at the front of the room was a young man in dark sunglasses. He stood motionless, his tall, lean frame cutting a sharp silhouette in a black pinstriped casual suit. His features seemed unchanged—still that same bored, haughty look that dismissed the world, yet unable to hide a face that was devastatingly handsome even in its coldness.

But the deep, boundless affection he used to have for her was gone. Now, Miles Masters looked at her with heavy, tired eyelids, as if looking at her for even a second longer would soil his sight.

Only two icy words fell from his lips:

"Move."

---