Naughty Puppy Will Be Eaten by a Bad Woman - Chapter 33

Gu Xianyue had almost certainly slept with Lu Zhao and now didn’t want to take responsibility, leaving her hanging.

The group reunited, and Gu Xianyue returned Fang Lin’s coat.

“Your coat,” Gu Xianyue said, handing it over.

“Oh… thank you, President Gu,” Fang Lin replied, still packing her things. She hadn’t noticed she was holding Lu Zhao’s coat until she heard Gu Xianyue’s voice.

Hmm? Fang Lin realized something was off.

Lu Zhao gave an awkward smile and quickly changed back into her own clothes.

Fang Lin glanced back and forth between them, her mind racing. A bold hypothesis formed in her mind:

Could it be that her friend and colleague’s crush was… Gu Xianyue?

The more Fang Lin observed, the more plausible it seemed. She had never seen Lu Zhao so close to anyone before, and the atmosphere between the two women always felt strangely charged.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on what was off. There were no overtly inappropriate gestures; everything could be explained as the behavior of close friends. Yet Fang Lin sensed an undercurrent, a subtle tension simmering beneath the surface…

Especially when the two women locked eyes. Their gazes seemed to linger too long, almost clingy. But by the time Fang Lin tried to examine them more closely, they would quickly break eye contact.

Fang Lin shook her head, thinking, This is ridiculous. The recent popularity of a drama featuring two female leads must be messing with her perception of people.

Lingxi, standing beside her, wasn’t surprised in the least. With her years of experience navigating the dating scene, she even suspected the two had already slept together. Otherwise, she couldn’t explain their sickeningly sweet behavior.

She ruthlessly urged them, “We should head to Shengye now.”

Lu Zhao nodded, gave Zhou Muting and the others a few instructions, and left with Gu Xianyue.

“This is our production workshop, equipped with the latest technology to ensure efficiency and meet deadlines…” Sheng Huaixing led the group, his face beaming with pride as he gave the tour.

Lingxi pretended to listen attentively, occasionally asking questions to feign interest.

Gu Xianyue chimed in with a few remarks from time to time, but she was actually keeping a close eye on the time.

It was almost time for the security guard shift change.

Lu Zhao, sitting in her wheelchair, suddenly looked troubled. “Um… President Sheng…”

“What is it?” Sheng Huaixing asked.

Lu Zhao frowned. “My wound seems to be getting inflamed. I might need to clean it… Is there a restroom nearby?”

“Yes, follow me this way…” Sheng Huaixing began.

Lingxi interrupted, “The restroom might not be suitable. I might need to change my bandages. Is there a lounge?”

Sheng Huaixing hesitated. The lounge was adjacent to the warehouse, and with the security guard shift change underway, it was practically unguarded.

Inside… were things that absolutely couldn’t be discovered.

He glanced down at Lu Zhao. Her face had paled slightly, and she clutched her amputated leg, her fingertips white. Despite the freezing weather, beads of sweat dotted her forehead, a clear sign of unbearable pain.

Forget it… he thought. She’s just a woman with a prosthetic leg, and she can’t even stand without it.

More importantly, he needed to make a good impression on Lingxi and secure this collaboration. He had to show results. Otherwise, his increasingly ambitious younger sister, Sheng Yunshu, might seize the inheritance from him.

Forcing a smile, he said, “Of course, Reporter Lu. The lounge is this way. Go straight for a hundred meters, then turn right…”

Lu Zhao nodded, her face pale, and maneuvered her wheelchair away.

To convince Sheng Huaixing, she had initially considered physically harming her prosthetic limb, but Gu Xianyue stopped her.

Since physical pain was out of the question, she had to resort to mental anguish. She opened a hidden album on her phone, filled with documentary photos from the Sarawi War Zone: crumbling ruins, ravaged landscapes, and the devastation of life. Staring at the images for a minute, she successfully triggered her stress response. Within seconds, she was drenched in sweat, her body trembling slightly.

Now she looked utterly convincing, even Gu Xianyue cast her a concerned glance.

Fortunately, this level of stress was still manageable. She took a few deep breaths and managed to regain control.

Earlier, Lu Zhao had obtained the floor plans of Shengye’s production department. Later, Zhou Muting used some clever tactics to acquire the company’s access control system map.

She had already memorized the warehouse route. Passing the break room, she glanced inside and, as expected, found it empty.

Entering the room, she pulled out her phone, pointed it at the security camera, and ran a frame-skipping injection program. This caused the surveillance footage to loop the previous five seconds repeatedly.

She had memorized the locations of all the surveillance cameras in advance, repeating the same maneuver before each corner. This was a simple trick she had learned during her time in Sarawi, and it cost next to nothing. After explaining it to Zhou Muting, Zhou helped her replicate the technique.

Finally, she arrived at the warehouse. The layout matched Lu Zhao’s mental map perfectly. The main entrance featured steps and facial recognition access control for daily use by management personnel. The side entrance, however, had been built with an accessible ramp in compliance with disability access regulations.

In reality, Shengye never hired disabled employees to manage the warehouse, rendering this ramp virtually useless and covered in dust.

To cut costs, the side entrance lacked even facial recognition access control, relying solely on an electronic lock. A closer inspection revealed that the electronic lock had long since failed, leaving only a mechanical lock core.

Lu Zhao smirked, her peach blossom eyes brimming with mockery.

Such an unfriendly design for people with disabilities, yet it came from the production department of Shengye Group, a company that had long sponsored the Disabled Persons’ Federation.

It seemed Shengye’s carefully crafted image as a champion of disability rights was nothing more than a facade.

What goes around comes around. Now, this very oversight had become their greatest security vulnerability.

Lu Zhao put on her gloves, took out a titanium alloy strip, and pried open the lock—a skill she had learned at Capital Media University, never imagining she would use it again.

Footsteps approached nearby, and Lu Zhao’s heart raced.

Click. The door swung open.

Lu Zhao quickly slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

The footsteps at the entrance drew closer, then receded, eventually fading away completely.

Lu Zhao exhaled in relief.

The warehouse was pitch-black. Instead of turning on the lights, she switched on her flashlight.

Shelves stacked to the ceiling lined both sides, crammed with raw materials and components. Following the labels, Lu Zhao moved forward, searching one by one.

Darkness pressed in from all sides, leaving only the sound of her breathing audible. In this state of intense focus, the images from Sarawi blurred, and she found an unusual calm.

Finally, she noticed something amiss with one of the raw material barrels.

The barrel contained replacement parts for artificial joints, labeled “TC4 Titanium Alloy Industrial Grade.”

Industrial grade? Not medical grade?

Lu Zhao’s pupils constricted. She snapped a photo with her miniature camera.

Shengye was even more depraved than they had imagined. They had suspected the company would cut costs by using cheaper materials, but they never expected them to stoop this low—not even using medical-grade materials.

There had to be more. Lu Zhao retrieved a folding cane from the wheelchair’s storage bag, unfolded it, and struggled to stand on one leg.

As expected, nearby shelves held more boxes of raw materials. The labels indicated they were imported from Southeast Asia, and the accompanying invoices showed their cost was only one-third of Shengye’s standard price.

Lu Zhao: “…” The deeper she dug, the more she uncovered. By now, the initial excitement of uncovering the truth had been replaced by a chilling sense of dread.

She quickly took photos, estimated the time, and maneuvered her electric wheelchair to leave.

Before opening the door, she pressed her ear against it to confirm no one was outside, then gently pushed it open.

After exiting, Lu Zhao retraced her steps toward the lounge and encountered a security guard on his shift change.

She quickly adopted a lost and flustered demeanor, her face a mask of confusion and urgency. “Excuse me… where’s the restroom?”

The guard glanced down and saw a frail, disabled woman with an empty right pant leg. Moved by pity, he averted his gaze.

“Turn right here… would you like me to show you the way?”

Lu Zhao’s lips curved into a grateful smile, revealing two dimples. “Thank you, but I’ll manage.”

Lu Zhao disabled the camera’s frame-skipping program, casually went to the restroom to freshen up, and rejoined Gu Xianyue and the others. Sheng Huaixing, noticing Lu Zhao’s improved complexion, didn’t suspect anything.

Gu Xianyue and Lu Zhao exchanged a glance, the latter responding with a subtle smile.

It was clear that Shengye’s PR team was a formidable force, potentially involving even greater power and resources. The evidence needed to be strategically released to maximize its impact.

Overall, they had accomplished a crucial mission.

A heavy weight lifted from Lu Zhao’s heart.

For the evening’s celebration dinner, Lu Zhao, having lived in the city for four years, treated Lingxi and Gu Xianyue to a renowned specialty restaurant tucked away in a deep alley behind red walls—a place she frequented during her university days.

It was now late winter, nearing the Lunar New Year. If the weather held, the Capital would likely see its first snowfall in a few days.

“Lu Zhao, where are you planning to go for the New Year?” Lingxi asked.

Gu Xianyue turned to look at Lu Zhao.

Lu Zhao took a sip of hot tea. “I’ll probably just stay in Qingcheng.”

Having neither parents nor relatives to visit during the holidays, Qingcheng—a first-tier city with a large migrant worker population—became practically deserted during the Spring Festival. As everyone returned to their hometowns, the street-side shops shuttered their doors, transforming the city into a ghost town.

Most of the young white-collar workers in the residential complex had returned to their hometowns, leaving Lu Zhao to guard an empty building alone. She went to the mall to watch Spring Festival films to pass the time.

Unfortunately, the Spring Festival film season was incredibly lively. Local residents who had stayed behind brought their families, and the theaters were packed for every showing, constantly filled with the noisy chatter of children. Lu Zhao found the noise irritating and stopped going after a few visits, preferring to spend her time at home.

“Where are you planning to go, Lingxi?” Lu Zhao asked with a faint smile, returning the question.

Lingxi had been waiting for Lu Zhao to ask this. Her face lit up immediately. “Connie and I are going on a trip to Australia!”

Lu Zhao graciously offered a few words of congratulations, perfectly satisfying Lingxi’s desire to show off.

She’s going on a trip with her girlfriend! And maybe even get married in some country where it’s legal, have a wedding… Life couldn’t be better.

Unlike some people… still dragging their feet.

Gu Xianyue hadn’t revealed anything to Lingxi, but in Lingxi’s eyes, Gu Xianyue had almost certainly slept with Lu Zhao and now didn’t want to take responsibility, stringing her along. Although Gu Xianyue had never been in a relationship herself, her effortless demeanor suggested that manipulating a younger woman like Lu Zhao would be child’s play.

At this thought, Lingxi cast a meaningful glance at Gu Xianyue.

Gu Xianyue pretended not to notice, focusing instead on Lu Zhao. “Lu Zhao, this winter is going to be particularly harsh, which will hinder your physical recovery.”

Lu Zhao nodded. “Alright, I’ll take extra care of myself.”

Gu Xianyue paused, then added, “What I mean is… would you consider going somewhere warmer to escape the cold?”

Lu Zhao tilted her head. Traveling… she had been to many places before, but mostly for work trips. She hadn’t really experienced a proper vacation. Since her amputation, she had grown reluctant to travel far, as many places lacked adequate accessibility for people with disabilities, making even simple outings inconvenient.

Qingcheng, located in the southern part of the country at a relatively low latitude, didn’t seem particularly cold on paper. Yet during winter, the cold waves brought a bone-chilling dampness unique to the Lingnan region, penetrating deep into the marrow. Worse still, due to its low latitude, Qingcheng lacked a public heating system.

This was Lu Zhao’s first winter since her amputation, and she had already learned firsthand what bone-deep cold truly meant.

“Hmm… I’ll consider it,” Lu Zhao murmured, pondering. She had indeed suffered greatly from Qingcheng’s bitter winter cold. Taking a trip to escape the chill wasn’t out of the question, as long as she prepared thoroughly…

“I meant, we should go together,” Gu Xianyue said, her gaze unwavering. Her long eyes, bathed in the warm yellow light of the private room, held an unusually tender affection.

The air hung in silence for a few seconds, and Lingxi fell quiet as well.

Lu Zhao hadn’t quite processed it yet. Was Gu Xianyue inviting her on a trip? With Lingxi and the others?

“Just the two of us,” Gu Xianyue said, her eyes fixed on Lu Zhao without a flicker.