Naughty Puppy Will Be Eaten by a Bad Woman - Chapter 5

But what else? Is she eating properly?

After Lu Zhao confirmed her attendance at the press conference, Gu Xianyue quickly finalized the details with both Lu Zhao and the Provincial Television Station.

Gu Xianyue took the initiative, personally overseeing every aspect of the event. She even arranged a Q&A session where she and Lu Zhao would discuss Lu Zhao’s experience using the new product, while also touching on Lu Zhao’s career as a journalist.

In short, the press conference was designed to maximize Lu Zhao’s value.

The media outlets Gu Xianyue had contacted, including reporters from the Provincial Television Station, would all be in attendance.

She eagerly anticipated Lu Zhao’s performance, in every sense of the word.

Gu Xianyue sent over the interview outline, and Lu Zhao returned a detailed script. When Gu Xianyue opened it, she found a meticulously crafted document, precise down to every word, perfectly highlighting all the key selling points she wanted to emphasize. There was virtually nothing that needed revision.

Gu Xianyue nodded slightly, her eyes filled with approval.

Meanwhile, Lu Zhao was swamped with work. In addition to staying on top of Gu Xianyue’s press conference preparations, she also had to coordinate with the Integrated Media Center regarding their newly established e-commerce department.

This was an era of radical change. Fewer people were watching television, and even fewer were shopping through TV commercials. The Provincial Television Station was desperately seeking new avenues for transformation, setting its sights on e-commerce through short video platforms—commonly known as live commerce.

By sheer coincidence, the station initially planned to use the People’s Livelihood Channel’s short video platform account for their live broadcasts.

Two years ago, Lu Zhao would have vehemently resisted this. She naturally disliked such fast-paced, entertainment-focused communication methods.

Moreover, the short video platform account wasn’t under her management. Her role would be limited to approving topics and providing materials; the Integrated Media Center would handle the packaging and presentation.

But times had changed. As the Provincial Television Station transitioned to new media, they first targeted the People’s Livelihood Channel’s audience—the emerging middle-aged and elderly demographic. These viewers possessed both purchasing power and leisure time, and were surprisingly receptive to new technologies.

As for the live commerce host, the station unanimously agreed that Lu Zhao was the perfect choice.

Even Wei Ning, who usually maintained a stern demeanor, softened her tone and coaxed, “Xiao Lu, you’re our station’s living gold standard! Your image as a war correspondent from those two years is deeply ingrained in the public’s mind. You have a great image, excellent temperament, and significant influence—you’re now… universally appealing!”

At that moment, Lu Zhao and Wei Ning were having dinner at Lu Zhao’s home. Though they didn’t live together, they occasionally gathered like this to catch up and strengthen their bond.

Knowing Wei Ning was coming, Lu Zhao, who usually threw together her meals, had made a rare effort to buy ingredients and cook: black tiger shrimp, clams, half a roasted chicken… She prepared four dishes and a soup, almost all of Wei Ning’s favorites. Lu Zhao, whose amputated limb was slightly inflamed, had to stick to bland foods, making it clear the seafood was entirely for Wei Ning.

After all, she didn’t have much of an appetite anyway.

Wei Ning had worked late at the station, arriving just as Lu Zhao was bringing out the last dish from the kitchen.

Unable to stand the sight of so little food, Wei Ning quickly whipped up two more light dishes in Lu Zhao’s kitchen, leaving the two of them with a feast of six dishes and a soup.

Throughout the meal, Wei Ning kept piling food onto Lu Zhao’s plate. Lu Zhao’s protests were futile; she was forced to eat more than usual, eventually feeling a bit lightheaded from overeating.

Wiping her mouth, Wei Ning, satisfied that Lu Zhao had eaten enough, finally brought up the matter.

Lu Zhao lowered her gaze, staring at her bowl, and weakly tugged at the corner of her lips. “Teacher Wei, is that really how you use that phrase?”

Wei Ning studied Lu Zhao. Knowing her adopted daughter well, she recognized this reaction as a sign that there was still room for negotiation—at least Lu Zhao wasn’t outright rejecting the idea.

Wei Ning continued her persuasive approach, “You know times have changed. Even with the Provincial Television Station’s support, we can’t just sit back and rely on handouts. We need to actively generate new revenue streams.”

“Our primary focus isn’t live commerce, of course. Once the e-commerce funds start flowing, they’ll ultimately benefit our core news department. This will give us a larger budget to produce even better reporting…”

Lu Zhao’s post-meal drowsiness had subsided. At the mention of “benefit,” the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

Wei Ning was indeed a skilled leader, her words painting a convincing picture of future prosperity.

Lu Zhao realized she should learn from Wei Ning’s departmental management style. Her own approach was simple: leading by example.

Since her amputation, Lu Zhao’s appetite hadn’t been great. The last time she’d consumed so many carbohydrates was during that exquisite French meal with Gu Xianyue.

For some reason, her appetite had suddenly awakened that day. She’d eaten well today too, but half of it had been forced down by Wei Ning, leaving her stomach temporarily unsettled.

Straightening her posture, Lu Zhao shifted her thoughts away from that meal with Gu Xianyue and focused intently on Wei Ning across the table. “Why not just hire professional live streamers? Why me? I have no experience with live commerce.”

Though Lu Zhao voiced this objection, her mind was already calculating a different strategy.

The idea had first taken root when the station announced the formation of a Live Commerce department during a staff meeting. It gradually solidified when Lu Zhao was specifically chosen to lead the initiative.

With Lu Zhao’s initial resistance softening, Wei Ning felt a surge of hope. At least Lu Zhao was seriously considering it.

She pressed her case with renewed vigor: “Live streaming experience is important, but the techniques and strategies are easily learned. You’re so sharp, you’ll pick it up in no time… Plus, your image and influence make you the perfect candidate for the station.”

Seeing Wei Ning had laid all her cards on the table, Lu Zhao figured it was time to play her hand. She paused thoughtfully, then looked up. “I’m willing to do it, but I have one condition.”

Wei Ning’s face lit up. “Name it.”

Lu Zhao: “Managing both the Live Commerce department and the People’s Livelihood Channel is too much for one person. How about this: the First News Channel is constantly swamped, especially with breaking news coverage. Why not create a special task force to help them out? Don’t worry about the People’s Livelihood Channel—I’ve already found a capable successor.”

As Wei Ning listened, the corners of her mouth drooped further and further. She finally understood.

Despite Lu Zhao’s seemingly earnest words, what she was actually saying was that she wanted to resign as Minister of the People’s Livelihood Channel and take on the dirtiest, most exhausting, and most dangerous work at the First News Channel—becoming even more of an investigative reporter than the investigative reporters themselves.

Now that Lu Zhao had revealed her true intentions, Wei Ning chuckled in exasperation. But she knew Lu Zhao’s character well. Ever since Wei Ning had forcibly assigned Lu Zhao to the People’s Livelihood Channel, she had watched Lu Zhao’s half-hearted, going-through-the-motions attitude.

Though Lu Zhao’s work was flawless, Wei Ning couldn’t shake the unease she felt seeing Lu Zhao’s listless, soulless demeanor.

So this day was bound to come sooner or later, Wei Ning sighed inwardly.

“Alright, I’ll help you apply to the station. But after the special task force is established, you’ll have a three-month trial period. If you don’t meet my performance requirements, you’ll stay put in the People’s Livelihood Channel and stop trying to negotiate with me.”

Wei Ning deliberately set the bar high, hoping Lu Zhao would back down. She made no secret of her ulterior motive: she feared Lu Zhao would recklessly throw herself into danger again. The guilt over letting Lu Zhao go to the Sarawi War Zone two years ago still haunted her, and she refused to repeat that mistake.

Lu Zhao’s face lit up, her peach-blossom eyes curving into a genuine smile. “Teacher Wei… Director Wei, you’re the best!”

Wei Ning waved her hand dismissively. “Enough with the flattery. My evaluation standards are strict. If you don’t meet them, your special task force can go wherever they want.”

Lu Zhao pulled out her phone, grinning as she showed Wei Ning the screen. It displayed a recording in progress. “I’m recording this. No backing out now~”

Wei Ning was speechless at Lu Zhao’s audacity.

This is exactly why I hate investigative journalists, she thought.

She glared at Lu Zhao before stomping off to clear the dishes.

Lu Zhao rose to help, but her movements were slightly slower. “I’ll wash them. You sit down.”

Wei Ning glanced at Lu Zhao’s right leg and firmly pressed her back into her seat. She picked up the dishes and headed to the kitchen sink. “Don’t be so polite.”

Lu Zhao had no choice but to sit back down. In truth, she had recovered well, and her prosthetic leg fit comfortably. She didn’t need excessive care from others.

Yet everyone around her seemed to treat her with extra consideration, handling her as if she were a fragile object.

From being barred from carrying heavy equipment during field interviews to these small daily acts of assistance, every gesture reminded her of one inescapable truth: she was a disabled person with a defect.

Though she knew their intentions were good, she resented being treated this way.

The vibration of her phone pulled Lu Zhao out of her thoughts.

She took it out and saw it was Gu Xianyue.

Gu Xianyue (General Manager, Yunqing Group): What did you have for dinner?

Little Dog: Some home-cooked dishes.

Lu Zhao had initially considered listing each dish like reciting a menu, but then she hesitated. She and Gu Xianyue weren’t close enough to share such details of their daily lives, so she settled for the vague “home-cooked dishes.”

Gu Xianyue: Who did you eat with?

Lu Zhao’s fingertip hovered over the screen, ready to type, but she paused.

She had eaten with Wei Ning, but how could she explain their relationship to Gu Xianyue?

Guardian? Foster mother and daughter? Superior and subordinate?

Her finger remained suspended for a long moment. None of the options felt right, and each would inadvertently reveal her private life.

She and Gu Xianyue weren’t that close yet, were they?

Meanwhile, Gu Xianyue, who wasn’t yet close to Lu Zhao, was at home enjoying a meticulously prepared meal by her private chef. For no apparent reason, she suddenly recalled Lu Zhao sitting across from her that day.

Lu Zhao looked even thinner than in the photo Gu Xianyue had kept, the difference now starkly apparent.

For that day’s French meal, Gu Xianyue had specifically arranged with the chef to prepare nutrient-rich dishes tailored for muscle recovery.

The menu Lu Zhao saw was already the result of Gu Xianyue’s meticulous planning.

Fortunately, Lu Zhao had enjoyed the meal.

But what about her other meals? Was she eating properly?

In those few seconds, Gu Xianyue’s mind raced with thoughts. She secretly congratulated herself on her attentiveness to her business partners, while also feeling that if she could go to such lengths, what deal couldn’t she close?

What Gu Xianyue wanted, she would get.

With lightning-fast mental calculations, Gu Xianyue immediately sent Lu Zhao a message.

When asked who she was dining with, the chat box displayed “The other party is typing…” for an unusually long time.

Gu Xianyue frowned slightly. Did this question really require so much thought?

An inexplicable irritation began to stir within her. The exquisite meal before her suddenly lost its appeal.

After what felt like an eternity of typing, Lu Zhao finally sent a reply.

Just three terse words:

Little Dog: With a colleague.

This curt response failed to satisfy Gu Xianyue.

Even colleagues have varying degrees of closeness. If it was just a regular colleague, why had she hesitated for so long?

Lu Zhao sent another message:

Little Dog: President Gu, is there something you need?

After pondering for a moment, Lu Zhao had chosen the safest option: “colleague.” It wasn’t exactly a lie; strictly speaking, she and Wei Ning were indeed colleagues.

Lu Zhao found this odd. She’d always thought Gu Xianyue, like herself, wasn’t one for small talk. Their conversations typically cut straight to the point. Yet today, Gu Xianyue was engaging in casual banter, completely out of character.

Strange.

Gu Xianyue (General Manager, Yunqing Group): Reporter Lu, I’d like to discuss your outfit for next week’s press conference.

Little Dog: Can I wear the suit I wore at the previous press conference? Image

Gu Xianyue quickly opened the image, only to realize it was a photo of a suit on a mannequin, not Lu Zhao herself.

Gu Xianyue’s heart sank, and the corners of her mouth drooped.

The private chef, standing nearby, noticed her expression and asked anxiously, “Is something wrong, President Gu? Is the food not to your liking?”

Gu Xianyue snapped out of her thoughts and forced a smile. “No, it’s delicious.”

The private chef breathed a sigh of relief, then felt a pang of unease.

Gu Xianyue always maintained an impeccable composure, rarely letting her emotions show. Yet in those brief seconds, the chef had clearly sensed a surge of emotion from her.

Gu Xianyue (General Manager, Yunqing Group):  Do you still have your camouflage uniform from the Sarawi War Zone?

Lu Zhao’s fingers paused mid-typing.

Little Dog:  Yes, but it needs washing.

Gu Xianyue (General Manager, Yunqing Group):  Why?

Little Dog:  There’s bl00d on it. It might be stubborn. And the right pant leg is gone.

Gu Xianyue (General Manager, Yunqing Group):  Even better. It doesn’t matter if the stains don’t come out. Prepare two outfits: wear the uniform for the interview and a suit for the photos.

Lu Zhao quickly grasped Gu Xianyue’s intentions.

The public primarily knew her through her identity and experiences as a war correspondent. By having her wear that uniform, Gu Xianyue was simply seeking to further leverage Lu Zhao’s influence.

That uniform was the one Lu Zhao had worn during her final days in the Sarawi War Zone, when shrapnel had torn off her right pant leg along with her right leg. Wearing it would mean exposing her amputated limb to the public without reservation.

Lu Zhao didn’t mind revealing her disability as the product’s spokesperson—it was inevitable. However, she had other concerns.

Little Dog: Isn’t this going too far?

There was a limit to how much promotion could be pushed before it became off-putting.

Gu Xianyue (General Manager of Yunqing Group): No, this will quickly draw attention to the key message. I’ll be at the Provincial Television Station tomorrow. Bring both outfits and wear the new product. I want to see the effect firsthand.

Gu Xianyue had arranged everything.

Lu Zhao sensed a hint of domineering control in Gu Xianyue’s approach, yet she couldn’t deny the logic behind her plans.

Little Dog: Okay.

Gu Xianyue didn’t reply further.

Wei Ning, having just finished washing the dishes, noticed Lu Zhao sitting with a slight frown.

“What’s wrong, Xiao Lu? Thinking about the launch event?” Wei Ning wiped her hands and sat across from Lu Zhao.

“Nothing much. Just discussing what to wear with President Gu,” Lu Zhao said, rubbing her temples as she put down her phone.

“What did you decide?” Wei Ning asked.

“I might have to wear that camouflage uniform.”

Wei Ning paused for a moment, then quickly understood Gu Xianyue’s intention.

“I’ve reviewed the contract,” Wei Ning said. “Yunqing is our biggest client this time, and their sponsorship is substantial. We should accommodate their requests as much as possible, as long as they’re not unreasonable.”

Lu Zhao nodded. “Understood.”

After a few more minutes of casual conversation, Wei Ning stood up to leave, making sure to take out the trash on her way out.

Once Wei Ning was gone, Lu Zhao began rummaging through her closet.

She quickly found the camouflage uniform. The fabric was faded, with some areas severely worn. The right pant leg was torn off, barely covering her thigh.

More importantly, stubborn bloodstains had spread from the hem, soaking the entire right pant leg.

There was also a matching black reporter’s vest, with “Reporter” printed in English on the back. It was similarly worn, but the dark color concealed the bloodstains.

Lu Zhao stared at the uniform. She hadn’t worn it since being rescued from Sarawi. After washing it clean, she had stored it at the bottom of her closet.

Images of smoke and gunfire flooded her mind again. This time, she felt as if she were back on the battlefield, her gaze fixed on the uniform’s bloodstains. She could almost smell the metallic tang of bl00d, and the cries of children echoed in her ears.

Suddenly, the smell became overwhelmingly pungent, choking her until she could barely breathe. Her heart began to race erratically, pounding wildly in her chest.

Sensing an attack coming on, she grabbed the clothes and hurried to the bathroom. After filling the sink with water, she submerged the garment and rushed to the living room to search for her medication.

Her phone rang just then, its default ringtone sounding like a bomb’s countdown timer, making Lu Zhao feel even dizzier. Nausea surged through her, and undigested food threatened to erupt from her stomach. She fought desperately to suppress the urge to vomit.

Her hands trembled violently, scattering pills across the floor.

Amidst the chaos, she managed to grab two tablets and swallow them, then frantically tapped at her phone. She couldn’t tell if she’d rejected the call or answered it; all she wanted was to silence the monotonous ringing.

The call connected. She must have accidentally answered it. Too breathless to check the caller ID, Lu Zhao struggled to calm her ragged breathing.

Her chest heaved violently, her breaths coming in gasps like bellows. Yet even with this desperate effort, she felt trapped in a glass dome, suffocating from the lack of oxygen.

A few seconds of silence hung in the air before a cool, mid-range female voice, tinged with concern, spoke: “Lu Zhao, are you alright?”