Time to Pay, Mr. CEO

Raindrops slanted down the glass window, soaking the faded sleeves of my school uniform. I clenched my younger brother's critical condition notice, my knuckles white. Our parents' car accident was like a sudden avalanche that completely buried our already fragile life. My younger brother lay in the ICU, tubes running through his body like a fragile porcelain doll. The doctor's words were cold and harsh: without money, all we could do was wait for a miracle. I stood in the corridor of the city education bureau, waiting with a dozen other plainly dressed students for the so-called "sponsor." The air was thick with anxiety and unease, each face inscribed with a desperate hope for fate to change. Footsteps approached steadily from afar, calm and resolute. I looked up and met a pair of eyes as deep and cold as a dark pool. The man wore a well-tailored black suit, his posture upright, radiating an aura that warned strangers to keep their distance. His name was Tom Shawn, CEO of the Shawn Group, and our benefactor. His gaze swept across the crowd, finally resting on me. "Choose her." His voice was low, without a trace of emotion. I was stunned, as if I could hardly believe that fate was extending an olive branch to me at that very moment. The staff hurried over and handed me a sponsorship agreement. "Mr. Shawn is willing to cover all your younger brother's medical expenses and will also sponsor your education." Tears instantly blurred my vision, and I choked back my sobs, unable even to utter a single 'thank you.' Tom Shawn merely gave me a cold glance before turning away, his back resolute. From that day forward, my life's trajectory was completely transformed. I moved into the apartment arranged by the Shawn Group, and my younger brother's hospital room was upgraded to a VIP private suite. Watching my younger brother lying in bed with no sign of improvement, I silently vowed to seize this opportunity. Once, I was a top student in the science class, dreaming of being admitted to the physics department of a prestigious university. But Tom Shawn began his career as a designer, and the core business of the Shawn Group is high-end fashion design. As I looked at the designs released by his company, a thought quietly took root in my heart. I want to study design, to become skilled enough to justifiably stand by his side. I resolutely gave up the science subjects I excelled at and transferred to the art class. The drawing board, paints, and design drafts became the whole of my life. While others slept, I stayed late in the studio rushing to finish sketches; while others enjoyed their weekends, I immersed myself in the library researching design materials. I was like a wild grass stubbornly growing through cracks in the stone, striving with all my might to absorb nourishment. Tom Shawn would occasionally come to school to see me, but each time he only briefly inquired about my studies. He never mentioned the sponsorship, nor did he offer any extra care. But I didn't mind; as long as my younger brother could survive, as long as I could be a little closer to him, no hardship or fatigue was too great to endure. After the college entrance examination, I was admitted to one of the country's top design schools with outstanding grades. On the day I received my admission letter, I went to my younger brother's hospital room. "Calvin, I did it. Our days will only get better." I held my younger brother's cold hand, tears falling onto the back of it. When Tom Shawn heard the news, he sent me just one message: "Study hard." Three words, yet they gave me infinite strength. Throughout my four years at university, I maintained an unwavering determination. I won countless design awards and became a celebrated figure in the school. During graduation season, the Shawn Group came to our school for recruitment, and I signed up without hesitation. On the day of the interview, I wore a simple dress of my own design and answered the interviewers' questions calmly. When Tom Shawn appeared before me as the final interviewer, my heart raced, but I struggled to maintain my composure. "Why do you want to join the Shawn Group?" He looked at me, his gaze complex and layered. "Because this is the best design platform in the country, and I want to realize my dream here." I answered sincerely. He was silent for a moment, then nodded: "Come to work tomorrow." I know this isn't due to any "special relationship" between us, but because my abilities have earned his recognition. After joining the Shawn Group, I was assigned to the design department. Most of my colleagues came from strong backgrounds and held considerable reservations about me as a "paratrooper." I didn't argue; I simply let my abilities speak for themselves. I took over a project that everyone else had abandoned, working around the clock to revise the design plans. In the end, my design won the client's high praise, saving the company from a significant loss. From then on, no one dared to underestimate me.