Naughty Puppy Will Be Eaten by a Bad Woman - Chapter 1

“Right leg amputated above the knee, shrapnel remains in right shoulder.”

It was winter, and the Sarawi War Zone was ablaze with conflict.

Lu Zhao crouched on one knee behind a shattered wall, holding a wireless microphone.

The camera lens beside her swept across the rubble-strewn landscape, a scene of devastation.

“Reporter Lu, the active combat zone is just ahead,” Camille, her camerawoman, warned, hoisting the camera with one hand and tugging at Lu Zhao’s backpack with the other.

“Mm, you can hand me the camera,” Lu Zhao said, reaching out to take it.

Camille bristled. *Does this young foreign reporter think she’s better than me? Is she planning to abandon me and rush ahead alone?*

With a defiant twist, Camille refused to relinquish the camera. *Not a chance!*

Lu Zhao smiled, her youthful face smudged with dust. Though her delicate features were grimy, her smile remained warm and reassuring.

Beneath her bulletproof vest and camouflage gear, her slender frame radiated strength. Her spine stood straight as a bamboo stalk, inspiring confidence.

Camille sighed. She was at a loss for how to handle this reporter who seemed utterly fearless.

Then Lu Zhao’s gaze locked onto something.

She pointed to three children huddled beneath a truck in the distance, signaling Camille to capture the scene.

Camille swiftly aimed the camera at the children. She was long accustomed to Lu Zhao’s reckless habit of venturing deep into the front lines, single-mindedly focused on capturing the truth. She knew these raw materials would be transformed into unparalleled, authentic reports, telling the world the realities of the war’s front lines, exposing its brutal cruelty and pain.

Many war correspondents had been dispatched to work alongside her, but none had lasted long. Even burly men, who towered over her in stature, would cower on the battlefield, hiding behind her as if they were entirely different people.

Initially, Camille had dismissed the idea of collaborating with this young foreign reporter, assuming she was one of those who dared only to shrink back and shoot from afar with telephoto lenses.

After all, the reporter looked delicate and fair-skinned, her slender frame seemingly ill-suited for hardship.

But reality proved her wrong.

Every time shrapnel and smoke roared past, Lu Zhao would charge forward with her recording equipment, as if courting death, nearly merging with the soldiers. Camille had no choice but to grit her teeth, shoulder the camera, and follow.

She had no doubt that if the camera weren’t so heavy, requiring a second person to carry it, her partner would have single-handedly carried both the camera and recording equipment, charging ahead without hesitation.

Camille’s camera captured a small girl trembling, clutching a grimy teddy bear. The bear’s right button eye was missing, making it look like it was crying.

“Article 38 of the International Convention on the Protection of Children mandates the priority evacuation of children from war zones. But here, that hasn’t happened,” Lu Zhao said coldly, her voice calm.

She glanced up at the distant roar of helicopters, still some distance away.

She stood up. “We need to get them to the International Red Cross vehicles.”

As she spoke, the sharp whistle of incoming projectiles suddenly grew closer. The helicopters were approaching with unnatural speed.

“Move quickly!”

Lu Zhao narrowed her eyes, watching the rapidly approaching helicopters. She darted forward, exchanged a few quick words with the children in the local language, and led them toward the nearby ambulances.

Camille, camera slung over her shoulder, continued to faithfully record everything. This was Lu Zhao’s instruction before every mission:

“No matter what happens, you must film it. Capture the full picture as accurately as possible, and protect the camera. If you absolutely can’t, at least save the memory card. It’s crucial…”

Lu Zhao was pushing the last few children into the ambulance when a bomb, accompanied by a howling wind, came hurtling toward them.

“Watch out—!” Camille’s scream was swallowed by the explosion.

Lu Zhao reacted instantly, lunging toward the last girl who hadn’t boarded the ambulance yet and shielding her with her body.

The camera was flung into the mud by the blast’s heatwave, its lens shattering into a spiderweb of cracks, pointing skyward.

The final frame captured before the screen went black:

The one-eyed teddy bear soared into the sky, rising like a slow-motion star.

The fluorescent lights in the hospital were different from the stars above. Though both emitted a cold glow, the hospital lights were far more glaring.

“Amputation above the right knee. Shrapnel fragments remain in the abdominal cavity.”

“Prepare for defibrillation. Be careful not to compress the patient’s injuries!”

The doctors’ voices, tinged with regional accents, were barely audible through the lingering anesthesia.

A phantom pain surged through her right leg.

The scene shifted to Director Wei Ning of the News Center, berating her:

“I told you not to rush to the front lines! Were you trying to get yourself killed? Do you think you’re some kind of savior? Will those news clips bring back your leg?”

She sat in a wheelchair, her face expressionless, head bowed as she endured the criticism in silence.

She was no savior, of course. Her capabilities had always been limited.

But… she glanced down at the empty right leg of her pants.

Now, she couldn’t even do the very limited things she used to.

Even during her afternoon nap, she was dreaming.

Lu Zhao sat up on the sofa in her Provincial Television Station office, the thin blanket sliding off her shoulders.

Though it was winter, beads of sweat dotted her forehead, yet her body felt cold.

Haunted by the nightmare, phantom pains pulsed through her missing limb in relentless waves.

She closed her eyes, giving herself a few seconds to recover.

She had never taken afternoon naps before, her boundless energy earning her supervisor’s admiration.

After graduating from Capital Media University, one of China’s top institutions, she joined Qingcheng Provincial Television Station as a grueling investigative reporter. Her relentless pursuit of truth exposed a series of corruption scandals, resulting in several groundbreaking reports that shook Province A.

Corrupt officials fell from grace, and the entire system was reshuffled, making Lu Zhao a national hero. Yet just as Wei Ning, then Director of the News Center, sought to promote her, Lu Zhao volunteered to cover the Sarawi War Zone.

When asked why, she replied calmly, “Has anyone else at the station volunteered?”

Wei Ning was momentarily speechless.

Indeed, no one else had.

The Sarawi War Zone was one of the most conflict-ridden regions in the world. Though the compensation was generous, the young staff at the Provincial Television Station valued their lives too much, while the older ones had families and couldn’t afford to take such risks.

Even the station’s few experienced investigative reporters shook their heads.

“What if I refuse?” Wei Ning persisted, unwilling to give up.

Ever since taking Lu Zhao in from the orphanage, she had treated her like her own daughter.

Lu Zhao met Wei Ning’s gaze, saying nothing more, but she knew the other woman would agree.

A year ago, fresh out of school and burning with idealism, she had joined the Provincial Television Station as a People’s Livelihood Reporter—a grueling, dangerous job. It wasn’t just about upholding the school motto, “Truth is Goodness,” but also because…

In the orphanage, where she and her peers had only each other to rely on, she had witnessed caregivers abusing deaf and mute children.

She took photos with her pocket camera and showed them to the director, who pocketed the evidence, patted her head, and said, “Xiao Zhao, sometimes it’s best to stay silent, even when you know the truth.”

“But why is it always the voiceless who suffer?”

Was it because, like her, they were weak and had no one to protect them?

Twelve-year-old Lu Zhao watched as the orphanage director retrieved the stack of photos and the camera, locking them back in the drawer. Her small hands clenched into fists.

The director remained silent, unable to provide Lu Zhao with a satisfactory answer or stop the caregivers from continuing to abuse their deaf and mute companion.

Lu Zhao could only spend limited time with her friend, unable to protect them around the clock.

The caregivers’ cruelty was subtle yet brutal, primarily psychological. They would “accidentally” break the child’s beloved toys, write cruel words on their arm with a finger, leaving no trace. Or they would inflict invisible wounds on the child’s still-developing mind, venting their own frustrations from work and life.

After all, the child was a voiceless, unwanted orphan—the perfect punching bag.

Lu Zhao couldn’t understand: Why?

Was it because they were weak that they deserved to be bullied?

Unable to comprehend it, she stopped trying.

She began to act. While her peers endured in silence, she quietly plotted the most dangerous form of resistance.

After all, she had nothing to lose. At worst, she’d face more abuse at the orphanage or be abandoned altogether.

Using her secretly saved allowance, she purchased a used cell phone and began documenting crucial evidence.

During the day, she covertly recorded evidence with the phone. At night, she hid it inside the zippered pouch of her teddy bear.

Finally, at the age of 15, she had gathered enough material to submit a comprehensive report to the Provincial Television Station. The station was stunned and immediately published a sensational exposé that rocked Qingcheng:

Qingcheng Orphanage Director Embezzles Donations; Caregivers, Driven by Unpaid Wages, Abuse Deaf-Mute Children to Death

Wei Ning, then the head of the editorial department, was the first to receive her submission and materials. She immediately launched an investigation and expedited the report’s publication.

Who could have imagined that the most critical evidence for this groundbreaking news story had come from a 14-year-old child?

Wei Ning immediately sought her out and offered to sponsor her education.

In the aftermath, the orphanage was ordered to shut down for rectification, and public attention turned to the welfare of children and corruption within welfare institutions.

Living up to Wei Ning’s expectations, she secured a full scholarship to study at the most prestigious media university in the United States.

It could be said that without Wei Ning’s recognition and support, Lu Zhao wouldn’t be who she was today.

Wei Ning had every right to stop her from going to the smoke-filled war zone.

But Wei Ning knew there were some things she couldn’t prevent.

“Teacher Wei, I want to see a bigger world,” Lu Zhao said, her usual warm smile on her face, her eyes shining with fervent determination.

Having raised Lu Zhao for so many years, Wei Ning understood her character well. Once Lu Zhao set her mind to something, she would see it through, no matter what. Whether it was silently studying to earn a full scholarship to Capital Media University, then working tirelessly throughout college to avoid asking Wei Ning for a single penny, or secretly applying for a job at the Provincial Television Station and only revealing her employment after reporting for work, Wei Ning had been excluded from every major decision in Lu Zhao’s life. Lu Zhao always quietly accomplished everything first, then announced the “good news.” This time was no different.

Wei Ning sighed, knowing she couldn’t stop this martyr to her ideals.

Lu Zhao blinked, the dream triggering a flood of memories that played like a movie in her mind.

But those glorious, tumultuous days were long past. Now she was just a People’s Livelihood Reporter, content to get by.

When she returned from the war zone, her reputation soared. The First News Channel, the station’s flagship department for high-profile investigations, extended an olive branch. Even the International News Department fought to keep her.

Then Wei Ning intervened, unilaterally transferring her to the People’s Livelihood Channel. No one could sway her decision.

Everyone at the station knew about Wei Ning’s connection to Lu Zhao, but no one dared accuse Lu Zhao of being a “connections hire.” Her relentless dedication and exceptional talent were undeniable, especially after her groundbreaking, in-depth reports on thankless assignments that had brought the station so much acclaim.

So when Wei Ning erupted in fury in her office that day, no one dared voice any objections.

“You still want to be an investigative reporter? I’m telling you, it’s not happening! The station can’t afford your workers’ compensation!”

Lu Zhao held the transfer notice, a formal document assigning her to the position of Minister of the People’s Livelihood Channel.

Her fingertips had gone white from gripping the paper too tightly, but she maintained a polite smile.

“Why, Director Wei… Teacher Wei? Is it because I lost a leg?”

Wei Ning glanced at her, frowning. “Spare me the act, Lu Zhao. The Minister of the People’s Livelihood Channel was just reassigned. So many people are clamoring for that position—don’t be ungrateful. With your accomplishments, securing that role is practically guaranteed.”

Lu Zhao fell silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the floor.

Wei Ning sat behind her desk, watching her. The area where her right leg was concealed by her trousers appeared noticeably thinner.

Wei Ning felt a surge of irritation. She hadn’t forgotten that she had personally approved Lu Zhao’s transfer to the Sarawi War Zone.

“I want to go to the First News Channel,” Lu Zhao said softly.

“No discussion. The First News Channel is full of young, healthy reporters who can handle the grueling hours. Would you really want to burden them further?” Wei Ning delivered the most cutting words without a flicker of hesitation.

Besides, you still have severe psychological issues, Wei Ning thought, but suppressed the urge to say it aloud.

Wei Ning was being deliberate. She knew her adopted daughter’s stubborn nature better than anyone. Without such harsh words, Lu Zhao would never give up.

The station had no prejudice against employees with disabilities. Even if Lu Zhao couldn’t work as a frontline investigative reporter, she was an excellent editor.

But Wei Ning knew Lu Zhao’s character: she insisted on doing everything herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of her daughter enduring another trauma like the one in the Sarawi War Zone.

Hearing Wei Ning’s words, Lu Zhao’s ramrod-straight posture faltered slightly. She bowed deeply to Wei Ning before silently leaving the office.

In the end, Lu Zhao was appointed Minister of the People’s Livelihood News Department.

This outcome shocked everyone, yet it was also logical. People’s Livelihood Reporters covered the daily lives of local residents, from Aunt Li’s dumpling shop earning praise for maintaining its prices for years to Uncle Zhang reporting his upstairs neighbor to the police for practicing piano too loudly.

The upside was that there would always be stories to report, and from another perspective, Lu Zhao had even been promoted.

But this wasn’t what she wanted.

Lu Zhao stood up, poured herself a glass of water, and sat back down at her desk. She rubbed the connection point between her thigh and prosthetic leg, feeling a dull ache.

Lifting her pant leg, she noticed the socket wasn’t fitting properly against her thigh, and the residual limb had been chafed raw.

Looks like I need a new prosthetic leg, she thought.

A knock came from the door.

“Come in,” Lu Zhao said, forcing a warm smile to her face, shedding the indifference in her eyes to appear approachable and harmless.

It was Fang Lin from the editorial department.

“Xiao Lu, Director Wei wants to see you in her office.”