Naughty Puppy Will Be Eaten by a Bad Woman - Chapter 8

She had definitely seen those eyes somewhere before.

Gu Xianyue’s question came so naturally that Lu Zhao, who had just taken a sip of hot tea, nearly choked.

“Oh dear, Reporter Lu, take it easy,” Gu Xianyue said, watching her with amusement as she patiently waited for Lu Zhao to catch her breath.

Lu Zhao’s full lips flushed crimson, and her cheeks were flushed pink from the coughing. Gu Xianyue’s gaze lingered on her face.

“President Gu, please don’t tease me,” Lu Zhao said, clasping her hands together in a gesture of pleading.

After a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “President Gu… was the garment thoroughly cleaned?”

Gu Xianyue nodded. “Yes, it was thoroughly cleaned. You can rest assured.”

Lu Zhao paused, then finally asked, as if having made up her mind, “Then… nothing was left in the pockets, was it?”

Lu Zhao smiled, but Gu Xianyue detected a hint of nervousness beneath the surface.

Instead of answering immediately, Gu Xianyue raised her teacup and took a small sip, savoring the way Lu Zhao’s anxious gaze lingered on her.

“No, nothing was left behind. Reporter Lu, did you misplace something?”

Lu Zhao seemed to exhale in relief. “No, I was just worried about causing you any trouble, President Gu.”

Lu Zhao wasn’t a careless person, but… the circumstances that day had been so extraordinary that she hadn’t had time to think about anything else.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, looking slightly troubled.

If things continued like this, something was bound to go wrong sooner or later.

Once this busy period passed, she would find a new psychiatrist.

Lu Zhao realized she had a long list of things to do beyond work: doctor’s appointments, retaking her driver’s license exam, follow-up checkups, intensive rehabilitation…

She would have to work even harder to appear “normal” by society’s standards.

Gu Xianyue noticed Lu Zhao was much quieter than usual, silently eating her meal without initiating conversation as she usually did.

Gu Xianyue’s heart sank.

Was she really that upset about being asked to call me “elder sister”?

Since Lu Zhao remained silent, Gu Xianyue decided not to initiate conversation either.

This wasn’t a business meeting; Gu Xianyue didn’t need to constantly read the room and cater to Lu Zhao’s preferences.

Having switched to personal mode, she had already exhausted her quota of friendly gestures for the day.

The meal became unusually silent.

Fortunately, toward the end, Lu Zhao seemed to finally snap out of it, casually reviewing tomorrow’s schedule with Gu Xianyue as if nothing had happened.

When work was involved, Gu Xianyue became exceptionally focused. She immediately shifted into professional mode, engaging in a serious discussion with Lu Zhao.

By the time they finished discussing the details, most of the food was gone.

Gu Xianyue glanced at the remaining dishes. They had eaten a good amount, but still left a lot. She had ordered nearly ten dishes, far too much for them to finish.

Lu Zhao got up to pay the bill, but the waiter informed him that Gu Xianyue had already settled the account.

“President Gu… I’ll treat you next time. Please do me the honor of accepting,” Lu Zhao said, resigned.

Gu Xianyue’s lips curved into a smile. “Of course, Reporter Lu. If you invite me, I’ll definitely come.”

Gu Xianyue drove Lu Zhao to the subway station. Before getting out of the car, Lu Zhao whispered, “See you tomorrow, Sis.”

His voice was so soft it seemed to drift away with the night wind, swallowed by the roar of the subway crowd.

As the car door closed, Gu Xianyue glanced out the window. Lu Zhao was smiling and waving at her, his breath visible in the cold air.

Under the streetlights, Lu Zhao’s loosely tied hair looked fluffy, his entire figure bathed in a soft glow.

Gu Xianyue’s gaze froze, forgetting to wave back.

It wasn’t until Lu Zhao’s silhouette disappeared into the subway entrance that she snapped back to reality.

Though Lu Zhao couldn’t see inside the car due to the one-way tinted windows, he could sense Gu Xianyue’s gaze.

Gu Xianyue took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but caught a faint scent beyond her car’s usual fragrance.

A delicate floral-fruity aroma, not overpowering, more like the lingering scent of shower gel or laundry detergent.

The scent of Lu Zhao.

She tried to smell it again, but it was gone.

She retrieved a stack of documents from the car’s glove compartment—the ones Tong Wei had given her.

The documents clearly detailed Lu Zhao’s psychiatric history and diagnoses: post-traumatic stress disorder (severe, war-related); moderate depression; comorbid insomnia with somatic symptoms.

Two months prior, Lu Zhao had undergone frequent psychological counseling, but the sessions seemed to have yielded little improvement. Her most recent medical records still listed these conditions, with no reduction in severity.

Moreover, Tong Wei had uncovered Lu Zhao’s previous disability assessment:

Severe trauma to the right lower limb with irreversible damage. Right leg amputation performed.

Further down, post-amputation records revealed:

Patient’s right lower limb severely infected. Preliminary assessment indicates wound suppuration due to inadequate care.

Gu Xianyue frowned and stuffed the stack of reports back into the compartment.

She started the car, and Lu Zhao’s face reappeared on the one-way glass, her clear eyes curving into a gentle smile.

It was a face that radiated warmth and kindness, utterly incongruous with the diagnoses listed in the documents.

Regardless, tomorrow was the press conference.

Gu Xianyue suppressed her turbulent emotions. The Mercedes roared to life and vanished into the night.

The press conference finally arrived.

The media turnout far exceeded Lu Zhao’s expectations, with reporters wielding an array of cameras and recording equipment.

As Gu Xianyue stepped onto the stage to deliver her opening remarks, a relentless barrage of flashbulbs erupted.

Gu Xianyue wore a champagne-colored V-neck suit, exuding both sophistication and poise. She greeted the audience with a gracious smile, maintaining her composure throughout.

“Welcome, partners, to witness the unveiling of this revolutionary product—”

Thunderous applause filled the hall, and the flashbulbs pulsed with renewed intensity.

“‘NeuroWalk AI Neural Adaptive Prosthetic.’ This intelligent prosthetic, integrating cutting-edge artificial intelligence, biomechanics, and neural interface technology, achieves millisecond-level dynamic gait adaptation for the first time, fundamentally transforming the mobility and freedom of amputees…”

Gu Xianyue’s voice, modulated with rhythmic cadence, held the audience spellbound. Even the dry product introduction captivated listeners, their gazes fixed on her.

Backstage in the dressing room, Lu Zhao waited as the makeup artist silently completed her work. After a moment’s hesitation, the artist timidly asked, “Um… Reporter Lu, would you mind taking a photo with me?”

Lu Zhao smiled warmly. “Of course.”

The makeup artist was overjoyed and quickly handed her phone to her assistant.

Click

The shutter snapped.

Lu Zhao stood up and posed shoulder-to-shoulder with the makeup artist for the photo.

“Um… Reporter Lu, my whole family loves your reporting, both past and present! We hope you’ll keep it up!”

Lu Zhao’s smile deepened. “Thank you. I will.”

After the makeup artist left, Lu Zhao’s smile faded. She lowered her gaze to the Q&A draft and the cue cards outlining the event’s schedule in her hands.

Then, she tossed them all into the trash.

The event’s agenda included Gu Xianyue’s opening remarks as the Yunqing Group’s representative, followed by the product technology team’s presentation. After that, Lu Zhao, as the brand ambassador, would demonstrate the prosthetic limb’s functionality.

Once Gu Xianyue finished her segment, she came backstage and glanced at Lu Zhao, who was impeccably dressed and made up.

The makeup artist had skillfully enhanced Lu Zhao’s naturally striking features, adding a touch of sharpness to her usually gentle face. When Lu Zhao smiled, she radiated even more vitality.

Gu Xianyue studied Lu Zhao, a satisfied expression spreading across her face.

Meeting Gu Xianyue’s gaze, Lu Zhao, feeling relatively composed, asked frankly, “How do I look?”

Gu Xianyue nodded. “Excellent.”

As she spoke, she stepped forward to straighten Lu Zhao’s collar and smooth the fabric over her shoulder. Her palm, separated by the cloth, traced the outline of Lu Zhao’s collarbone before her fingertips came to rest on her slender shoulder, lingering there.

“Let’s go home together after the press conference,” Gu Xianyue murmured, a few strands of hair falling across Lu Zhao’s cheek, tickling her skin.

“Sure,” Lu Zhao replied casually, unsure if her actions later might make Gu Xianyue retract the offer.

Go home where? To do what? She didn’t ask.

Because she suspected Gu Xianyue would likely never want to see her again.

Finally, it was time for the product demonstration.

Lu Zhao and Gu Xianyue double-checked the prosthetic’s functionality before stepping onto the stage.

Just before going on, Gu Xianyue noticed Lu Zhao holding only a microphone in one hand.

“Reporter Lu, where are your cue cards?”

Lu Zhao smiled. “I’ve memorized everything.”

Gu Xianyue met her gaze, then tossed her own cue cards into the trash.

“Alright, then I won’t need mine either.”

Lu Zhao’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly regained her composure.

“President Gu has an excellent memory.”

As thunderous applause erupted, Lu Zhao and Gu Xianyue stepped forward from backstage.

This was Lu Zhao’s first major public appearance since her injury. Media reporters swarmed her, snapping photos relentlessly.

Lu Zhao scanned the crowd of colleagues below the stage, recognizing some familiar faces. Their gazes lingered on her leg, their expressions complex.

At Gu Xianyue’s request, Lu Zhao wore the camouflage suit that fully exposed her prosthetic limb.

The prosthetic’s design was sleek and minimalist, its smooth lines gleaming with a cold metallic sheen under the flashing lights.

But Lu Zhao knew the prosthetic’s deceptive exterior hid its true nature.

“Next, we’ll have Reporter Lu demonstrate the AI-powered adjustment modes of the prosthetic…”

Lu Zhao rose and demonstrated for the audience. As she shifted her weight slightly, the prosthetic’s power modes adjusted accordingly.

Gu Xianyue explained the features while Lu Zhao demonstrated, their collaboration seamless.

“Now, Reporter Lu, I have a few questions about your experience using the prosthetic.”

The planned Q&A session had arrived.

“Please ask,” Lu Zhao replied with a smile, though her grip on the microphone tightened, her knuckles whitening.

“Reporter Lu, what makes this product unique for you?”

Gu Xianyue asked casually, her tone as natural as if they were chatting idly.

Lu Zhao’s voice was equally natural, shedding the polished broadcaster’s tone she used for news reports. Her voice sounded warm and pleasant as she spoke slowly and deliberately.

“Hmm… its unique feature lies in—”

Lu Zhao paused deliberately, giving the media ample time to react.

“It lies in the fact that this product is exceptionally good at deceiving consumers.”

A beat of silence hung in the air before the room erupted in chaos. Camera shutters clicked frantically, louder than ever before.

When Lu Zhao tried to speak again, she realized her microphone had been cut off.

Quick reaction, she thought.

She glanced back at Gu Xianyue, the only other person on stage with a microphone, who showed no sign of offering it to her.

Then, for the first time, she studied Gu Xianyue at length, scrutinizing her with the same intensity the other woman had often directed at her. This time, however, her gaze was calculating, assessing her chances of snatching the microphone.

As she looked, she noticed Gu Xianyue’s eyes, half-smiling, fixed steadily on her. Those long, narrow, alluring eyes were so deep and fathomless they seemed to threaten to swallow her whole.

In that instant, Lu Zhao realized with a jolt that she had seen those eyes before.

Not just a month ago, but in some earlier, more distant time.

At the same moment, she also realized her chances of winning were zero.

The reason was simple: she was disabled.

Gu Xianyue didn’t need to confront her directly; a slightly faster pace would leave her completely behind.

But—

As she reached the edge of the stage, security guards rushed up the steps from both sides, eager to “escort” her off and silence her.

Without hesitation, she leaped down. The socket of her prosthetic leg rubbed painfully against her stump, momentarily blanking her mind.

Reporters swarmed around her, countless microphones thrust into her face as a human wall sealed her in, leaving the security guards no room to intervene.

Calmly clearing her throat, she began to explain the truth to the crowd in her clear, rhythmic, standard news reporting tone:

“The claim that Yunqing’s AI intelligently adjusts gait is a sham. In reality, the device merely uses three fixed gait patterns and sensors to adjust power and weight distribution, without employing any actual AI technology. AI is merely a marketing ploy for Yunqing; their technology has not yet reached such advanced levels.”

Lu Zhao smiled. Her voice, though soft, carried clearly through every media microphone.

“In other words, the Yunqing Group is falsely advertising under the guise of AI technology, deceiving consumers.”