Present day - Shanghai

*almost 8 decades later*

Date: 2012/11/20

Wu Zhilan stepped off the crowded metro, her heels clicking against the polished floors as she maneuvered her way through the bustling station. It was a typical morning in Shanghai, and the city was already alive with the hurried rhythm of commuters and the hum of car engines outside. Wu Zhilan tugged her coat closer around her shoulders, feeling the crisp autumn air rush over her as she exited onto the street.

The cityscape stretched before her, a blend of sleek glass buildings and small reminders of the past century old brick facades and winding alleyways.

She worked at Rising Sun Media, one of Shanghai's prominent marketing agencies, and her days were packed with back-to-back meetings, client calls, and the occasional crisis requiring a quick, sharp solution.

Wu Zhilan took a deep breath as she neared her office building. Today, her job felt more exhausting than usual. She had spent another night tossing and turning, plagued by that same recurring dream a mysterious man, piercing eyes, whispers she could barely remember, a fog-shrouded cityscape that looked like an older version of Shanghai. She didn't know why these dreams persisted, but each time, they left her feeling haunted, like something or someone was just out of reach.

"Morning, Wu Zhilan!" The friendly voice of her coworker, Fu Mei, pulled her back to reality.

Mei forced a smile and nodded, tucking away her thoughts as she entered the bustling lobby.

She scanned her ID badge, a cheerful ding signaling her entry as she joined the throng of employees waiting for the elevators.

Up on the 23rd floor, the energy was just as vibrant. Her colleagues bustled between desks, engaged in animated discussions about campaigns, deadlines, and new clients.

Wu Zhilan settled into her small but neatly organized workspace, glancing at her monitor, which already displayed a stream of unread emails. But before diving in, she took a moment to compose herself, letting the busy energy of the office settle around her like a comforting blanket.

Her boss, Mrs. Guo, poked her head into Wu Zhilan's cubicle a few minutes later, clipboard in hand and a sharp gleam in her eye. "Wu Zhilan, we've got an exciting project for you. You're going to be handling all the coordination for Zhou Han's book launch."

"Zhou Han, the writer?" Wu Zhilan asked, intrigued.

She'd heard of him, Zhou Han was one of Shanghai's rising literary stars, known for his gripping novels with settings in old Shanghai.

"Yes," Mrs. Guo confirmed, already shuffling through her papers.

"He's publishing a new book soon, and it's generating a lot of buzz. You'll be responsible for setting up interviews, managing his PR schedule, and handling the launch event."

A part of Wu Zhilan felt an inexplicable excitement, like a familiar thrill. She shook it off as professional interest, though she couldn't deny the strange sense of anticipation building in her chest.

As she read through the project details Mrs. Guo handed her, Wu Zhilan felt the weight of her recurring dreams pressing down on her again, as if nudging her toward something she couldn't quite understand. But she was practical, grounded. She told herself it was just another job assignment one that would come and go like all the others.

Still, as she worked through the initial logistics and thought of meeting Zhou Han in person, that odd feeling lingered. She pushed it aside, focusing on the project at hand, unaware that the dreams and the secrets buried in her memories were on the verge of colliding with her reality in ways she never could have expected.