As Xiao Mei stepped out of her small apartment, the sky above was cloaked in a heavy blanket of grey clouds. The air smelled faintly of rain, and a chilly breeze kissed her cheeks as she locked the door behind her. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the storm that brewed not just above, but inside her chest. Her heart beat with a rhythm she couldn't quite name—part anxiety, part defiance, part curiosity. But on her face, she wore a mask of composure, one she had perfected after years of dealing with the unpredictable world of journalism.
Dressed in a simple white blouse tucked into a navy pencil skirt, Xiao Mei chose to keep things elegant yet modest. Her low-heeled shoes clicked steadily against the pavement as she walked to the main road. A part of her mind replayed every word Lu Zeyan had said in their last meeting, his tone, his smirk, the way his eyes narrowed when she spoke the truth. She had challenged a man who could destroy her career with a single sentence—yet here she was, walking towards his domain, not to surrender, but to stand taller.
The moment she arrived at the towering glass building, an imposing symbol of Lu Zeyan's empire, a shiver ran down her spine. It wasn't from the cold. It was the overwhelming awareness that she was stepping into the lion's den. The receptionist glanced up and did a small double take before offering her a polite, almost rehearsed smile. "Miss Xiao Mei, we've been expecting you. Please wait a moment."
Moments later, Mrs Tang appeared—her expression neutral, almost unreadable, but her eyes carried a flicker of surprise, perhaps even curiosity. "Follow me," she said curtly.
The elevator ride was quiet, filled only with the soft hum of machinery and the subtle tapping of Xiao Mei's fingers against her handbag. Mrs Tang attempted small talk, but her words came out stiff, almost forced. Xiao Mei responded politely, but her mind was elsewhere—strategizing.
When the elevator doors opened, Xiao Mei was led through a quiet hallway until they reached a large wooden door. Mrs Tang pushed it open, and Xiao Mei stepped into a sleek, modern conference room. At the far end, standing by the window, was Lu Zeyan, hands tucked into his pockets, gazing out at the city skyline as if he owned every inch of it.
He turned when he heard her footsteps, and for a brief moment, their eyes locked. There was a flicker of recognition, of amusement maybe, in his eyes—but it vanished almost instantly. He offered a polite nod. "Miss Xiao Mei. Thank you for coming."
She took a seat opposite him at the large table. "I came to hear what this is about. That's all."
He smirked slightly but didn't challenge her tone. Instead, he launched straight into business. They discussed the vision of the "Suara Kota" project—its goals, target audience, and editorial direction. Xiao Mei presented her thoughts professionally, with just enough edge to remind him she wasn't going to play nice just to please him.
But then the conversation took a subtle turn.
Lu Zeyan leaned back in his chair. "You said something interesting the last time we met. That you write not for praise, but for truth."
Xiao Mei's posture stiffened. "That hasn't changed."
He studied her, a hint of something unreadable in his gaze. "Good. Because I'm offering you a chance to prove it."
He slid a file across the table. Inside was a contract.
"A full-time collaboration. You'll be the lead writer for a new column in Suara Kota. You'll have creative freedom—but your first major feature will be about business leaders and their real faces behind the empire. Including me."
Xiao Mei blinked. Was this a trap? Or a test? She glanced at the contract, skimming through the clauses. Everything looked legitimate. No hidden terms. No fine print with malicious intent.
"You want me to write about you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I want you to write about the truth. And that includes me."
The challenge was laid bare. A golden opportunity—yet one lined with danger. If she got too close to the truth, she could ruin reputations. If she held back, she'd betray her own principles. And writing about Lu Zeyan? It was like playing with fire.
"I need time to consider," she said carefully, closing the file.
Lu Zeyan nodded. "Take a day. That's all I can offer."
Just as she rose to leave, his voice stopped her.
"I admire those who challenge me, Miss Xiao. But be careful. Sometimes the fire you play with... burns more than just your fingers."
She didn't look back. But his words echoed in her mind as she walked through the hallway, down the elevator, past the polite smiles of strangers.
Once outside, she paused at the steps of the building. The wind whipped at her skirt, her hair, her thoughts.
This wasn't just an offer. It was an invitation to a game.
A dangerous game.
And she intended to win it.
"If this is a game," she whispered to herself, her eyes narrowing with resolve, "then I'll be the player he'll never forget."