quirks, that kind of thing. But none of it prepared me for him.

He showed up two days after the incident, looking like he owned the damn place. Black sedan, sharp suit, face so serious he could've carved granite. Manager said he was 'Mr. Zhang,' visiting from the main branch. Didn't say anything else. Didn't need to.

My shift started at nine. By eight fifty, Mr. Zhang was already leaning against the counter by the entrance, watching the street like he was mapping it out. Sun hit him just right, making the lines on his face seem deeper but also... sharp? Like cut glass.

"Can I help you?" I asked, trying not to sound like a spooked gruntle.

He finally looked at me then. Eyes were a dark, intense color - I guessed brown, but you couldn't be sure from that distance. "You're Qingyan, right?"

How did he know my name? The manager only mentioned my last name. "Uh, yeah. Hi." My stomach did this weird flip.

"You can close up early today." He didn't offer explanation, didn't ask permission. Just stated it like it was fact. "I'll be handling things from here on out."