After rebirth

The Internship That Wasn’t

Lin Xiyu awoke the morning after her rebirth to the sound of a sparrow tapping against the window of her bedroom. For one disorienting second, she had expected to be welcomed by the antiseptic sting of a hospital corridor; instead, she found lavender-colored wallpaper, the fraying edge of her childhood quilt, and a faint scent of ginger emanating from the kitchen downstairs. She pressed two fingers to her pulse-stable, alive, March 4, 2023. Only yesterday, she had died beneath the tires of a stranger. Today she had a confession to refuse and an empire to unmake.

With that, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. From here onward, she would reject Lu Jingchen's call at precisely 8:11 a.m., while he would be saying, "Wear the blue dress. It brings out your eyes." This time, however, she watched as the call came from her bedside−Jingchen❤️, pulsating like a neon sign half in darkness, while she pressed the power button until it fell off the screen. One minute of silence felt like a blessing.

Down in the hall, Chen Meili arranged the narcissus in the glimmer of the crystal vase. The woman could very well charm wallpaper paste with her smile. "Ah, my dear Xiyu, you're up. Jingchen called on the landline earlier. Such a polite boy. He asked whether you’ve recovered from your little faint.”

“Tell him,” Xiyu said as she poured herself some tea from the ceramic pot, “that I’m thinking of a vow of silence.”

The narcissus slipped from the hands of Chen Meili and cracked the mouth of the vase. Water began to trickle across the mahogany floor, confessing slowly and guiltily. Lin Wanrou looked on from the staircase with the narrowed eyes of a cat that has just discovered its canary is armed.

Xiyu paid them no mind. She had things to do.

—

She stepped into the chilling blast of 9:30 off the Financial District subway, hair twisted up low and a blazer two seasons out of date yet spotless. Three USB drives lay unsheathed in her tote, color-coded like bullets. The black drive contained evidence of Wanrou admitting to laxatives, the silver one held screenshots of Lu Jingchen's offshore transfers, and the gold one was empty—blank space to harvest whatever she would need next.

The headquarters of Hengyu Group rose in a clade of glass and steel, reflecting a sky the color of quenched concrete. The lobby smelled of pine and ambition. The receptionist, with cheekbones sharp enough to slice bread, scrutinized her visitor's pass.

"Lin Xiyu; 10:00 a.m. interview, Strategic R&D." Polite as the girl was, her eyes said, another over-caffeinated graduate seeking to become lunch for the machine.

Xiyu smiled. "I asked for the 9:45 slot. Lucky me, I'm early."

She entered the elevator with three men in identical charcoal suits who spoke of leveraged buyouts like football scores. On the thirty-eighth floor, the door opened to Jiang Wan—Vice President of Technology, patent holder of three AI accelerators, one of the two women at Hengyu's executive board level. In another life, Jiang Wan would have resigned in protest when Lu Corp had acquired Hengyu's flagship chip division. This time, Xiyu would ensure that the acquisition never happened.

"Ms. Lin," Jiang Wan said as she shook her hand once, firmly. "Your résumé says you speak fluent Python and broken humility. Let us test both."

—

Glass and angular, the conference room held six engineers scattered around a table made of carbon fiber. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass wall was a view of the river, where cargo barges crept like beetles. The holographic projector brought forth a cube of code—kernel modules for edge-computing security.

Jiang Wan hit a button on the remote. "You have forty minutes to find the zero-day hidden in this build. If you fail, the elevator will still take you downstairs."

Xiyu's fingers hung above the keyboard. She had traced this exploit back in 2025, after Hengyu's servers were breached and Lu Corp put the blame on rogue employees. The bug was good and dirty: a buffer overflow disguised as a checksum routine. She found it in eleven minutes, patched it over the next six, and added another safeguard that would ping her private server in case anyone ever wanted to revert her fix.

Jiang Wan arched an eyebrow that looked like it would score a direct hit on her credibility. "Interesting. Most candidates spend thirty minutes blaming the compiler."

"I find self-pity tends to delay," Xiyu replied.

The VP closed the file. "Welcome to Hell Group, Miss Lin. We start on Monday."

—

Outside, the city hummed with the lunchtime rush. Xiyu bought herself a carton of soy milk and leaned against a poplar tree, planning her next step. Her phone vibrated-an unknown number. She let it ring three times before answering.

"Ms. Lin." The low, amused male voice continued. "I represent the legal department of Hengyu. Your background check flagged a pending litigation with Lu Corporation. Care to comment?"

She nearly laughed. Lu Jingchen was faster than she'd expected; already attempting to poison her new bridge before she could even cross it.

"Tell legal that the litigation is a countersuit for defamation. I have the documents all ready for discovery."

She hung up and dialed another number. "Uncle Bao? It's Xiyu. I need a favor - access to the Trademark Office archives, off-record. Yes, the 2019 filings. I'll bring over some coffee."

—

At 14:15 hours, she was standing in the quiet stacks of the Municipal Archives, under electricity buzzing fluorescent lights overhead. Uncle Bao-a retired clerk who had once carried her shoulder-high during Spring Festival-slid a folder across the table. Within were hidden patent applications that Lu Corp had instituted: her own design for a low-latency neural processor as an undergraduate under a male classmate's name.

Her heartbeat calms to the rhythm of a surgeon's rhythm. Evidence secured, she photographs every page and stores encrypted images in a cloud folder christened "Kindling."

Outside, clouds bruised the horizon. Checks her wristwatch. 3:30. Time for the second rejection of the day.

—

Lu Corporation's campus sprawled like an empire of glass and grass. The security acknowledged her student ID and waved her through on house: habit from years she sprinted across these walkways to deliver Lu Jingchen his favorite espresso. Today, she strolled slowly, letting the camera drones sweep over her face. Let him see.

Executive elevator needed a fingerprint. She pressed the pad with that same finger that once wore his promise ring; doors sighed open. At the 45th floor stood Lu Jingchen's personal assistant new girl-red-rimmed from crying over spreadsheets, upon her approach.

"Miss Lin, Mr. Lu is in a meeting-" "Tell him," Xiyu said pleasantly, "that the meeting just ended." She pushed through the frosted-glass doors. Lu Jingchen stood with his back to her at the window, phone at his ear. The late-afternoon sun painted his profile old-gold hue. He finished his call with a soft "handle it," and turned.

For a heartbeat, memory ambushed her: the same face bending over her hospital bed three years from now, saying she was a stain. She tasted iron but kept her smile.

"I heard you were looking for me," she said.

His gaze flicked to the empty ring finger. "You didn't answer my calls."

"I was busy accepting someone else's offer." She placed a manila envelope on his desk. Inside: her signed internship refusal, the countersuit notice, and a USB labeled "Evidence - Volume One." "Consider this my resignation from the role of your shadow."

Lu Jingchen's jaw tightened. "Hengyu will chew you up." "Maybe." She tipped her head. "But at least they don't choke on their own hypocrisy." He stepped closer; she smelled bergamot and danger. "You think you're safe because you've found a new ladder? I built this city's ladders." "And I," she said softly, "am very good at making them collapse." She turned on her heel. At the door she paused, not looking back. "By the way, the blue dress is at the bottom of the Huangpu River. You'll have to find another way to bring out my eyes."

Night fell, like ink across the skyline, and Xiyu updated the Revenge file in the glow of her laptop.

• Internship secured – Hengyu Group, Strategic R&D, start Monday.

• Patent theft by Lu Corp documented – publication ready.

• Rejection from Lu Jingchen delivered – psychological strike achieved. Next milestones: 1) Isolate Wanrou's supply chain, 2) Map Lu family shell accounts, 3) Schedule coffee with Jiang Wan-no sugar, maximum leverage.

She closed the laptop and pressed her palms against her eyes. The ticking of the wall clock was the only sound in the apartment besides her mother's cherished one. Tick. Tick. Each second-a rung on a ladder she was climbing out of the grave.

Her phone buzzed again, this time it was a text from an unknown source:

"Welcome on board, Miss Lin. The real game begins at dawn. - S.Y." She smiled at the screen's reflection of her own eyes-no longer the eyes of a grateful girl, but of an architect measuring the distance between ruin and rebirth. Outside, the city lights flickered on, like pieces taking their places, one by one, on a freshly reset board.