Rise After the Fall

The moment I walked in, the noisy office suddenly fell silent.

One glared at me like needles stabbing, filled with undisguised ridicule, curiosity, and gloating.

“Well, look who still has the nerve to show up.”

The one speaking was the boss’ niece, the same Veronica who had been the first to show off her fifty-thousand-dollar bonus.

She deliberately carried a cup of coffee as she walked past me, her voice just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

“I thought after taking those hits yesterday, you’d be lying at home for a few days.”

I didn’t look at her and walked straight to my desk.

I turned on my computer. My inbox was already filled with unread emails.

The company group chat was still being flooded with photos from last night’s gala and records of the bonus payouts.

I closed it immediately and opened a new document titled “Resignation Letter”.

The content was brief and cold.

There were no words of gratitude, no reflection on the past.

Just one sentence: [Due to personal reasons, I hereby request to resign effective immediately.]

Then I opened an encrypted folder on my computer.

After entering the password, an eighty-page document unfolded on the screen.

[Core Client Relationship Maintenance Manual.]

Every single word in it had been earned over the past eight years through countless sleepless nights, endless travel, and drinking sessions that had nearly ruined my stomach.

It wasn’t just simple contact numbers or contracts.

It recorded things like which executives disliked each other, whose son wanted to get into which elementary school, and what specific detail would make someone finally give in at the last moment of a negotiation.

These were the details that actually made deals happen, and partnerships continue.

It wasn’t company secrets, but the result of eight years of my effort.

Calmly, I exported the file, encrypted it, and uploaded it to my private cloud storage.

Everything left on the computer was irrelevant.

After finishing all of that, I finally stood up.

I printed the resignation letter, signed my name, and then walked toward Daniel’s office.

I knocked and went in.

Daniel was leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed while talking on the phone.

When he saw me, he didn’t hide the disgust in his eyes.

He said a few perfunctory words into the phone and hung up before leaning back in the large leather chair and looking me up and down.

“So, you figured it out? Came to apologize?”

He let out a mocking laugh.

“Yesterday you were still thinking about calling the police to arrest—”

Before he could finish, I placed the resignation letter on his desk.

He glanced at it, and the smile on his face froze.

He didn’t pick it up.

Instead, he slowly lit a cigarette.

“Lily, what I said yesterday might’ve been a little harsh, but that was for your own good. Sometimes you need a wake-up call so you can understand your place.

“Go ask around outside. What company would hire someone from a second-tier college like you? And still pay you six thousand a month? Keep dreaming!”

“I’m not here to argue about that,” I said calmly. “Please approve my resignation.”

“Approve it?”

He exhaled a ring of smoke and flicked the ash.

“According to the contract, you need to submit a written request thirty days in advance. During those thirty days, every bit of work you’re responsible for stays the same. You think you can just walk away? It’s not that easy!”

I understood what he meant.

He wanted to make things difficult for me during those thirty days.

Just then, the phone on his desk rang sharply.

Daniel picked it up impatiently.

“Hello? …What? The system crashed? Data loss?”

His expression changed instantly, and his voice rose.

“Their boss specifically asked for Lily to handle it? Useless! A bunch of useless idiots!”

He slammed the phone down hard. His chest rose and fell as he glared at me, his expression complicated.

There was anger, reluctance, and a trace of embarrassment he couldn’t quite hide.

…

“Apex Technology’s system ran into trouble. Mr. Johnson spoke up personally and asked for you by name to handle it.”

He gritted his teeth, every word squeezed out between them.

“As you’re still an employee of this company, you have to fix this problem for me.

“If you mess it up and cause losses, you’ll take full responsibility.”

I looked at his furious face and suddenly found it a little ridiculous.

When they needed someone to put out fires, I was the firefighter. However, when it came time to share the rewards, I was the disposable extra.