Naughty Puppy Will Be Eaten by a Bad Woman - Chapter 9

Lu Zhao’s words dropped like a stone into a still lake, sending shockwaves through the assembled media.

The dramatic scene had everyone sensing a headline-worthy scoop, and microphones surged closer to her in a frenzy.

While pinpointing her Provincial Television Station’s microphone to ensure the clearest firsthand recording, Lu Zhao spoke directly into it, simultaneously monitoring the security personnel’s movements out of the corner of her eye.

Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, the security team spoke into their radios, likely requesting reinforcements, and escorted Gu Xianyue backstage before beginning to disperse the crowd.

Her time was running out.

Lu Zhao refocused her attention on the present, continuing to deliver her key points with utmost conciseness.

“During the nearly month I used the product, I experienced only three fixed gait-switching patterns arranged in combinations, not the AI-driven adaptability advertised. The technology involved isn’t as advanced as claimed; it merely requires sensors.”

More security personnel closed in, gradually tearing a gap in the impenetrable human wall formed by reporters with riot shields. Calculating her remaining time, Lu Zhao quickly delivered her final statement:

“I urge everyone not to over-idolize AI. Many products can function excellently without it. Yunqing’s prosthetics are of exceptional quality, and their sensors provide real-time feedback with remarkable speed. They perfectly meet the needs of people with disabilities, even without AI enhancement.”

As Lu Zhao finished speaking, security personnel grabbed her arm and half-escorted her away. She didn’t resist, cooperating obediently.

The reporters pursued relentlessly, following her every step.

“Reporter Lu, do you have any conflicts of interest with Yunqing Group?”

“Reporter Lu, will this statement result in you having to pay a breach of contract penalty?”

“Reporter Lu, do you have a personal vendetta against President Gu?”

The last question came from a familiar female voice. Lu Zhao turned to see the reporter wearing the uniform of their Provincial Television Station, her face mostly hidden by a mask. Yet Lu Zhao recognized her instantly as Fang Lin from the editorial department.

The editorial department must be really bored if she’s here joining the commotion.

No wonder that question was so amateurish—it was just a friend teasing me.

Fang Lin’s eyes gleamed with schadenfreude, as if saying, “Go back to the station and wait for the scolding.”

Lu Zhao rolled her eyes and ignored her.

Surrounded by security personnel, Lu Zhao struggled forward, waving goodbye to her colleagues with a smile but saying nothing more.

She had already said everything she needed to say.

But she couldn’t help wondering where the security team was taking her.

With a thud, the car door slammed shut. She was shoved into the back seat of a black SUV, the rough handling causing her prosthetic limb to chafe violently against the stump, making her hiss in pain.

“Does it hurt?”

Lu Zhao glanced to her side and saw Gu Xianyue watching her with a radiant smile.

Gu Xianyue pressed a button on the car’s side panel, and a partition rose, sealing off the front and back compartments.

Now, only Gu Xianyue and Lu Zhao remained in the enclosed space.

Lu Zhao looked at Gu Xianyue, feeling inexplicably guilty. After all, she had just taken concrete actions that harmed Gu Xianyue’s interests, essentially tearing up their contract right in front of her.

Gu Xianyue, who had navigated the business world for so long, had likely never suffered such a humiliating affront.

But if given the chance, Lu Zhao would do it again.

She would simply pay the breach-of-contract penalty.

Gu Xianyue reached out her hand.

Lu Zhao braced herself for a slap.

Well, after what I’ve done, anyone would be angry.

Resigned, she closed her eyes.

Gu Xianyue simply gently massaged the connection point between Lu Zhao’s prosthetic limb and its socket, pressing down a few times.

Lu Zhao slowly opened her eyes, a look of disbelief on her face.

Gu Xianyue’s palm was warm, and the brief massage brought considerable relief to Lu Zhao’s long-neglected prosthetic limb, the soothing warmth spreading through it.

The press conference hall was well-heated, but the outdoor stretch where she had been “escorted” by security had left her exposed prosthetic limb painfully cold. Combined with the friction from her earlier strenuous movements, the pain had become unbearable.

Now, with Gu Xianyue’s gentle massage, the bl00d frozen by the cold air began to circulate again.

Lu Zhao grasped Gu Xianyue’s hand, stopping her from massaging further up toward the base of her thigh.

“You… aren’t angry?” For once, Lu Zhao’s voice carried a hint of caution.

Gu Xianyue glanced at her, her eyes mischievous, as if she had heard something amusing.

“If I were angry, my reaction would be quite different.”

Gu Xianyue withdrew her hand and glanced at the driver in the front seat.

“Reporter Lu, if you don’t mind, shall we step aside to talk?”

Gu Xianyue’s reaction was completely unexpected. The reporter’s curiosity, buried deep within her, had been piqued and now hung suspended in anticipation.

She didn’t reply, instead fastening her seatbelt, a silent agreement.

Gu Xianyue was like a skilled hunter, luring Lu Zhao step by step into her trap. Yet Lu Zhao, sensing the danger ahead, willingly moved forward, drawn by the bait Gu Xianyue had chosen—the truth.

How could Lu Zhao refuse the truth?

The car parked in the underground garage of a private residence.

After getting out, Lu Zhao surveyed her surroundings, judging it to be a newly built, high-end residential complex located some distance from the Provincial Television Station and even the Yunqing Medical Group.

The elevator arrived, and Gu Xianyue unlocked it with her fingerprint, thoughtfully offering Lu Zhao slippers.

As Lu Zhao stepped inside, it belatedly dawned on her: she was in Gu Xianyue’s home.

The realization startled her. She rarely allowed others into her own home and seldom visited others’ private spaces.

In her memory, she had only been to Wei Ning’s house and the home of Fang Lin, a colleague from the editorial department at the station with whom she was relatively close. Even then, they were rarely alone, usually part of larger gatherings where she had been reluctantly dragged along.

For Lu Zhao, “home” was an intensely private sanctuary.

And now, barely a month after meeting Gu Xianyue, she had been invited into her home?

“Reporter Lu, would you like some red wine to warm up?” Gu Xianyue asked, retrieving a bottle and two stemmed glasses from the wine cabinet.

Lu Zhao was about to decline when she noticed the label on the bottle. Her eyes curved into a smile. “Sure, President Gu. Thank you for the offer.”

The Sarawi War Zone was bitterly cold, and Lu Zhao and the other reporters often relied on strong liquor to stay warm during the winter. Their tolerance for alcohol had been honed over time.

One night, while they were working late editing a new report, Camille had excitedly brought a bottle of this very brand of red wine to their camp. “I finally managed to get my hands on this!” she’d declared. “Drink up and warm yourselves before we get back to work.”

But after just a few glasses, Camille, who usually held her liquor well, was completely passed out. Lu Zhao ended up staying up all night alone, finishing the video editing and compiling the report.

So when Gu Xianyue produced the bottle, Lu Zhao immediately had a mischievous idea.

In vino veritas—it wasn’t just an old saying. She wanted to see just how many tricks this enigmatic fox, Gu Xianyue, was hiding.

Besides, she knew she wouldn’t get drunk.

“To Reporter Lu, for helping me out with such a big favor,” Gu Xianyue said, raising her glass in a toast.

The glasses clinked softly. As Lu Zhao drank, a question lingered in her mind.

Had she really helped Gu Xianyue?

Didn’t she just ruin Gu Xianyue’s grand scheme?

Lu Zhao estimated that the fastest media outlets had already prepared reports with headlines like “Qingcheng’s Largest Medical Group Deceives Consumers” and “Beware of AI Scams Targeting the Disabled.” With Lu Zhao’s reputation amplifying the news, the story would undoubtedly spread like wildfire.

The Yunqing Medical Group’s corporate reputation would be severely damaged, and its stock value would plummet.

After much deliberation, Lu Zhao couldn’t find an answer. She asked, puzzled, “Why?”

Gu Xianyue set down her red wine and clasped her hands. “Reporter Lu, are you recording this conversation?”

Lu Zhao quickly unlocked her phone to show Gu Xianyue—no recording was active—and placed it on the table.

Gu Xianyue nodded in satisfaction. “What I’m about to tell you must remain absolutely confidential.”

Lu Zhao narrowed her eyes and nodded, a flicker of barely perceptible excitement in her gaze.

She sensed she was about to uncover the truth.

Gu Xianyue continued, “I assessed you from the beginning and anticipated you would do exactly what you did today. Originally, we should have reached a partnership during our earlier conversations: I would announce the new product, and you would expose Yunqing Group’s scam.”

“However, you didn’t object to the partnership, which I hadn’t anticipated. Fortunately, the outcome remains the same, and perhaps… even more spectacular.”

Lu Zhao’s eyes widened.

It turned out Gu Xianyue had anticipated all of this. But why would she deliberately shoot herself in the foot?

Could it be…?

Gu Xianyue watched Lu Zhao’s expression shift as she continued:

“The true power behind Yunqing Medical Group lies with my mother. Though I manage the group’s primary affairs, the real decision-making authority isn’t mine. I need your help.”

Lu Zhao suddenly understood. Her years as an investigative journalist allowed her to quickly grasp Gu Xianyue’s strategy.

“You deliberately let me expose Yunqing Medical Group’s scandals to acquire more shares while the stock price plummeted?”

Gu Xianyue nodded, a hint of approval in her eyes.

“Exactly.”

“Weren’t you afraid I wouldn’t expose them?” Lu Zhao asked.

Gu Xianyue smiled, twirling her ring. “You were bound to expose them.”

“Beyond that, I need to eliminate several competitors and rapidly enhance my reputation within the group.”

“I’ll provide you with confidential business secrets and intelligence. In return, you’ll help me expose them. What do you say, Lu Zhao?”

Gu Xianyue no longer addressed her as “Reporter Lu,” but by her given name. This signaled that she wasn’t speaking to Lu Zhao as a representative of Provincial Television Station, but as an independent individual.

Lu Zhao paused, considering her options.

Lu Zhao thought about the special team she had requested to establish. Wei Ning’s performance requirements were undeniably stringent, demanding that she recruit a team, secure a certain number of story leads, complete at least three investigative reports with full evidence packages, and produce a pre-broadcast trailer—all within three months.

Unearthing so many in-depth, valuable, and fully supported reports in such a short timeframe posed a significant challenge for Lu Zhao.

Gu Xianyue’s proposal was undeniably tempting.

Gu Xianyue refilled Lu Zhao’s wine glass and said, “I’ll cover your breach of contract penalty.”

Lu Zhao knew this was Gu Xianyue’s polite way of saying she wouldn’t pursue the matter. If she truly had to repay it, her meager salary would barely make a dent.

This was a veiled threat disguised as a favor.

But that wasn’t Lu Zhao’s concern. In less than a minute, she had clarified what she wanted.

“Gu Xianyue, let’s make this a successful partnership.”

Lu Zhao extended her hand, her smile genuine. Leaning in close, Gu Xianyue noticed the faint dimples at the corners of Lu Zhao’s lips when she smiled, making her appear even sweeter.

Gu Xianyue reached out, her icy ring brushing against Lu Zhao’s fingertips.

Gu Xianyue’s body temperature was higher than Lu Zhao’s. Her hand felt delicate and cool in Gu Xianyue’s grip, the palm calloused—a testament to a hand that had endured hardship.

She couldn’t resist tracing the curve of Lu Zhao’s hand with her fingertip, lingering for a moment longer.

Lu Zhao, seemingly oblivious, asked, “Is a verbal agreement enough?”

“Even if we had a written contract, you wouldn’t care about breaching it anyway, would you?” Gu Xianyue replied.

She had a point.

The two women exchanged smiles, their wine glasses clinking together once more.

The night outside the window deepened, the red wine dissolving the distance between them.

With the major matter settled, Lu Zhao finally relaxed after a long time, engaging in casual conversation with Gu Xianyue.

Her phone buzzed. Lu Zhao glanced at it—Wei Ning’s relentless calls.

The earlier press conference had been live-streamed. Wei Ning had called repeatedly while Lu Zhao was being escorted to the car by security, but she hadn’t noticed until now.

It was easy to guess the content: Wei Ning was coming to demand answers.

Without a change in expression, Lu Zhao silenced her phone and continued her pleasant conversation with Gu Xianyue.

Lu Zhao asked about the ring on Gu Xianyue’s finger.

Gu Xianyue’s cheeks were flushed with wine, her voice now slightly husky from the alcohol. “This ring… it contains ashes.”

Gu Xianyue gazed deeply at Lu Zhao, her narrow eyes shimmering with a watery sheen, her gaze hazy and alluring.

Lu Zhao realized Gu Xianyue was already drunk.