DBTHDCAR Chapter 4

Translator: dapotaturs
Release Date: 03/17/2024
Edited Date: 06/25/2025
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By the time Ning Xiaobei got out of the subway and walked into the company building, he was already a full half hour late for the appointment he had set with his boss.

If it had been any other time, Ning Xiaobei would definitely have been racing through the office building by now. But he had just suffered an asthma attack moments earlier, and his body was really unwell, so he could only walk slowly.

“Leader, you’re finally here. The boss is already fuming.”

As soon as he stepped into the office, Assistant Lily poked her head nervously through the door and said anxiously, “Everyone was waiting for you to start the meeting earlier. You didn’t come, and the boss was so mad he threw his pen.”

“I just came back to take a look today. Things at home still aren’t settled.”

Ning Xiaobei threw the empty inhaler canister into the trash and took a brand-new one from his drawer to put into his bag. He was afraid of having another attack on the way home. Asthma, if not treated in time, could be fatal.

“Leader, want me to make you some coffee? I can bring it over later.”

Lily clutched a folder in her arms and said pleasingly.

“No need. I’ll just say a few words to the boss and head out.”

Ning Xiaobei didn’t even plan to turn on his computer. He picked up his phone and headed down the corridor to the boss’s office.

The whole office was immersed in the atmosphere of preparing for Double Eleven¹, with the sounds of keyboards clacking, voice calls, and printers spitting out copies echoing back and forth. Occasionally, a few people looked up and, seeing Ning Xiaobei, could only nod in acknowledgment, not daring to put down their work.

Walking up to the semi-frosted glass door, Ning Xiaobei knocked on it and heard a “come in.” Then he pushed the door open.

“Hold on a sec.”

Boss Zhuo Yuhang was standing by the French-style window, one hand in his pocket, talking on the phone. Seeing Ning Xiaobei, he waved at him and gestured toward the swivel chair in front of the desk, signaling him to sit down..

Zhuo Yuhang, a native of Hangzhou, was the same age as Ning Xiaobei. When Xiaobei used to work at a foreign company, the company had sponsored him to take an Executive MBA in finance. That’s where he had met Yuhang — strictly speaking, the two were classmates.

After graduating from university, Zhuo Yuhang came to work in Shanghai. Initially, he worked for a foreign company before venturing out on his own. He married a wealthy Shanghai girl, and half of the startup capital for the company came from his father-in-law.

In the beginning, the company was short on people. Zhuo Yuhang asked around through old friends for talent, and through a mutual connection, he found Ning Xiaobei. After adding each other on WeChat, they realized they already knew each other — they were even in the same MBA class group chat. They hit it off immediately and Zhuo Yuhang hired Xiaobei at a high salary.

Now, the company was thriving day by day. Word was, Zhuo Yuhang had already bought a second villa, and his wife was preparing for their second child. But the husband was always so busy he was never home — who knew how long that “preparation” would last?

“Why are you so late? I had an online meeting scheduled with XX Company’s PR team. Since you were late, we had to delay it. They were not happy about it. Their CEO just called to complain to me.”

Both of them had backgrounds in foreign companies and were accustomed to mixing Chinese with English in their conversations, sometimes even throwing in a few lines of Shanghai dialect, which had become a common sight in the local office.

Zhuo Yuhang hung up the phone, sat across from Ning Xiaobei with a displeased expression on his face.

This man was one of the most meticulous individuals Ning Xiaobei had ever met. Even on a scorching day like today, with temperatures hitting 36 degrees Celsius, he was still impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit, with not a hair out of place, despite the humidity.

Ning Xiaobei had discussed this with Lily before, and they speculated that this must be a habit cultivated by the boss during his years in a British company. Of course, it could also be related to his cleanliness obsession.

Such a boss naturally exerted invisible pressure on everyone in the company. Fortunately, Zhuo Yuhang only had dress codes for himself. For the employees below, he only requested that they not wear any bizarre outfits. Whether it was a polo shirt or a checkered shirt, it was all up to them.

In the entire company, the only one who matched the boss’s dress code was Ning Xiaobei. During work hours, he was always sharply dressed in a suit.

For reasons he couldn’t bring himself to say, Ning Xiaobei remained single at the age of thirty-seven. When others asked, he would simply say that he was too busy with work to think about settling down. Fortunately, in Shanghai, there were plenty of people in their thirties and forties who were unmarried, and as a man, he hadn’t experienced any pressure to get married.

Zhuo Yuhang was the most outstanding man he had encountered in many years, whether it was in terms of appearance, education, or ability. However, when they met, Zhuo Yuhang was already married, and his daughter was already one year old.

Zhuo Yuhang was a typical straight man, while Ning Xiaobei’s moral code prevented him from ever interfering in other people’s marriages and relationships.

So he could only bury this feeling deep in his heart, not daring to confide a single word to anyone, while simultaneously pouring all his time and energy into his work.

Everyone said that both he and the boss were workaholics who loved the company more than their families, working tirelessly almost year-round except for the few days around Chinese New Year.

In reality, what he loved was not the work, but a feeling of longing to be by someone’s side, something he couldn’t have…

“A-Zi, why are you dressed like this for work today? Okay, forget it. The project we handed over to XX Company previously, they said they’re still not satisfied. Hurry up and lead your team to redo it. They have a meeting with the Japanese side tomorrow afternoon, so you must check it with them in the morning. This year’s Double Eleven case is related to whether our cooperation with them can continue next year. You need to pay more attention to it.”

As Zhuo Yuhang spoke, he picked up a document from the table and placed it in front of Ning Xiaobei.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Seeing Ning Xiaobei’s lack of response for a while and no indication of taking the document, Zhuo Yuhang finally sensed that something was wrong.

“A-Zi, are you okay?”

Ever since a well-known company introduced a code-name culture, almost all e-commerce companies have followed suit, including Zhuo Yuhang’s company.

“A-Zi” was Ning Xiaobei’s code name, which he borrowed from the name of his family’s former cat.

As for Zhuo Yuhang, his code name was naturally “boss.”

Ning Xiaobei rested both hands on the desk, tapping his fingertips on the black glass surface as he slowly said:

“I’m sorry for being late. Dealing with the funeral arrangements these days has been exhausting. I had an asthma attack on the subway and had to rest for a while before coming over. I’m sorry if it caused a delay in your meeting.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know,” Zhuo Yuhang said, feeling somewhat guilty as he pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose.

Ning Xiaobei had asthma. It usually flared up during seasonal transitions in spring and autumn, but it could also be triggered when his health was poor. His desk drawer was full of inhalers — everyone in the company knew that.

“It’s nothing. I didn’t even know I was going to have an attack.”

Ning Xiaobei forced a smile and coughed a couple of times.

“But, Boss…”

He pointed to the blue folder and said with a bitter smile, “I should still be in mourning right now. I only came back to the company today to take a look. You should assign this case to someone else. I haven’t sorted out things at home yet, so I can’t work normally in the short term.”

“What do you mean by ‘just coming back to take a look’?”

Possibly aggravated by client entanglements, Zhuo Yuhang’s tone suddenly shifted, lacking his usual composure.

“The clients you’re handling are all top brands for Double Eleven. You know how much our company’s revenue dropped last year because of the pandemic. This year’s performance hinges entirely on this period. And now you’re telling me you can’t come back to work?”

Faced with Zhuo Yuhang’s aggressive questioning, the anger that had been stifled by the grief of losing his father exploded out of Ning Xiaobei all at once.

“Boss, the Labor Law stipulates that when immediate family members pass away, employees are entitled to three days of bereavement leave. And when I took leave before, I even took ten days of annual leave. I want to wait until everything at home is settled before coming back to work slowly. At least let my father’s seventh-day funeral ceremony pass, can’t I?”

“You’re not wrong, but how do you expect me to explain this to the clients? Do you want me to tell them that the main handler of the project couldn’t push forward because his dad died? Is that what you want me to say? And you’re not handling just one client, you’re responsible for the three biggest clients in the entire company! A-Zi, this is a matter of life and death!”

Zhuo Yuhang banged the table as he spoke. “How about this — come back now and help me finish things until Double Eleven. Once it’s over, I’ll give you an extra half month off. End of the year, you can take as much time off as you want. OK?”

“Zhuo Yuhang, do you even hear yourself? We’re talking about my dad here! Do all you capitalists have no conscience?”

Ning Xiaobei was furious. He stood up, grabbed Zhuo Yuhang’s collar, and pointed to the bustling office lobby outside.

“When my dad was sick, I was working overtime with you. When my dad collapsed, I was working overtime with you. Now that my dad’s dead — burned into ashes and stuffed into a tiny box — you still want me to work overtime with you? He was my dad, not your dad, not your father-in-law. That’s the only reason you can talk like this, isn’t it? Isn’t it?!”

Their argument was so loud that it could be heard outside through the glass.

Seeing their big boss and team leader nearly at each other’s throats, several junior employees looked on in shock, completely forgetting to type

“A-Zi, calm down, calm down.”

Having known each other for so long, Ning Xiaobei had always been a gentleman, but Zhuo Yuhang was stunned by the rage in his eyes.

He slowly freed himself from Ning Xiaobei’s grip, walked to the window, and tapped on the glass, startling the junior employees who scattered like birds.

Zhuo Yuhang pulled down the blinds, cutting off the curious stares, then walked back to Ning Xiaobei and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“A-Zi, forgive me. I spoke out of turn. You know the company is preparing to go public next year — the pressure on me is intense too…”

“Anyway, I won’t be coming back to the office anytime soon. Hand off those cases to someone else. The company will survive without me.”

Ning Xiaobei shrugged off Zhuo Yuhang’s hand and scoffed.

“And as for the vacation you mentioned… Every year after the big promotions, you promise to give me a long break. But in these past few years, aside from two years ago when I took three days off to accompany my father to Suzhou to pay respects to our ancestors, when have I ever had a break? Adding up the fifteen days of annual leave for leaders each year, I must have accumulated at least three months by now.”

He stood up as he spoke. “I’ll go to my office later and apply for leave through the system. I’m taking all three months at once. I hope you’ll approve it, Boss.”

He spoke with exhaustion written all over his face.

“A-Zi, are you serious? I admit I was wrong earlier, I didn’t understand your feelings, but three months is a bit…”

Zhuo Yuhang said, looking troubled.

Double Eleven would soon be followed by Double Twelve, and then the year-end sales. It was the peak battle season for e-commerce. And now Ning Xiaobei wanted to take a full three months off? He might as well be putting Zhuo Yuhang directly on the grill

“If Boss doesn’t want to approve it, then have HR send me a termination letter. Just fire me. I really… can’t do this anymore.”

Ning Xiaobei leaned against the door, holding back tears as he spoke.

“And stop calling me ‘A-Zi’. My name is Ning Xiaobei. ‘A-Zi’ was the name of my cat — the one that passed away. Please use my real name from now on…If there even is a ‘from now on.’”

He said, turning the doorknob and striding out. Seeing the red-rimmed eyes and unfriendly gaze of their leader, his colleagues all avoided him.

“Xiaobei… I…”

Watching Ning Xiaobei’s retreating figure, Zhuo Yuhang slumped into his leather chair, staring at the folder in front of him and closing his eyes in regret.

He had rushed to the office in a flurry, and now he returned home in just as much of a storm.

The moment he stepped inside the door, Ning Xiaobei finally let out a long sigh.

He washed his hands and returned to the living room, which still bore the same appearance as when he left in the morning. The Ning family didn’t hire a housekeeper; for many years, Ning Jianguo had been the one to tidy up the house. Now that he was gone, just three days in, the house was already starting to gather dust.

Ning Xiaobei walked into his room and picked up the adoption certificate lying on his desk, weighted down by a paperweight.

“It wasn’t there last time I saw it…”

He touched the area stained by ink and spoke softly.

The ink didn’t look fresh — more like it had been there for years.

“I did knock over the ink bottle in my dream… but that was just a dream…”

Ning Xiaobei furrowed his brow in frustration.

He looked up at his bookshelf.

Neatly arranged on the shelf were the books he had collected over the years, from Liu Cixin’s 《The Three-Body Problem》, Asimov’s 《The Foundation Trilogy》, to Frank Herbert’s 《Dune》, and even the complete set of 《Wisely Series》 science fiction novels he bought in high school, all categorized by author and neatly displayed on the shelf.

Ning Xiaobei was a science fiction enthusiast. He had loved reading various science fiction novels since junior high school, exploring works from ancient and modern times, from both domestic and foreign authors. This was the only hobby he had retained after starting work.

As he looked at these books, a bold idea formed in his mind.

Could it be… a parallel world?

And not just any parallel world, but one where every change in one world would affect another?

Ning Xiaobei sprang to his feet, pacing his room in circles like a trapped bear in a zoo.

His gaze finally landed on the metal box beneath his bed — the place where he kept his most treasured belongings growing up, much like the five-drawer cabinet his father used to have.

He crawled under the bed and dragged the small metal box out.

The metal box wasn’t locked, but a thick layer of dust on top nearly triggered his asthma again.

Using a damp cloth to wipe away the dust, Ning Xiaobei opened the box with trembling hands.

What caught his eye were various kinds of diaries. Cartoon ones, blue ones, gray ones, brown ones—there were more than ten of them stacked on top of each other.

Ning Xiaobei had a habit of writing diaries since he was young, which he maintained until he graduated from college. He would use up one diary every year. After finishing writing, he would carefully lock them away in this box, preserving them as lifelong memories.

After entering the workforce, the diaries became planning notebooks, and eventually he transitioned to jotting everything in his phone’s note app. Over time, the habit faded away.

Aside from the diaries, the metal box held a collection of trinkets others might’ve seen as junk, but to Ning Xiaobei, they were cherished memories. Normally, he would’ve taken them out and examined them one by one — but not today.

He needed to confirm one thing—a matter related to that “dream.”

The diaries were stacked in chronological order, with the second-to-last one being the one he wrote in the fourth grade of elementary school, with the cover featuring {Hyoga} , one of the five bronze saints from the animated series 《Saint Seiya.》

Hyoga was Ning Xiaobei’s favorite character when he was a child because, like him, he didn’t have a mother. Except Hyoga’s mother was lying at the bottom of the sea in Siberia, while Ning Xiaobei had never even seen his mother.

Ning Xiaobei touched the cover and took a deep breath, then opened the diary from the middle.

There, he found a white pigeon feather sandwiched in the middle of the book. He looked at the content on that page— ⟦August 13, 1996, Sunny⟧

It matched up!

Ning Xiaobei dared to swear to the sky that in his original memory, he had never done the act of sandwiching a feather in his diary.

That wasn’t a “dream”! That world truly existed!

Ning Xiaobei clenched his teeth tightly, took two steps back, and sat on the edge of the bed.

If the things he did in “that place” could affect this world now…

Did that mean—he might be able to extend his father’s life after all?

……………………………

Author’s Note:

Zhuo Yuhang, that guy — just a cannon fodder. Don’t worry, he and Xiaobei have no romantic entanglements.

Alright~~ see you all tomorrow~~