Xiao Mei returned to her apartment with a storm of thoughts brewing in her mind. The contract from Lu Zeyan weighed heavily in her bag, almost as if it were more than just a few sheets of paper. Once inside, she tossed her keys onto the small wooden table by the door and collapsed onto the couch. The city lights flickered outside her window, but her attention was fixed solely on the contract she now held in her trembling hands.
She opened it carefully, flattening each page with precision. Her eyes scanned every line, reading and rereading the terms, the expectations, and—most of all—the clause about writing a feature article titled "Business Leaders and Their True Faces," with Lu Zeyan as the central figure. It was an unusual request. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more beneath the surface. Was this a trap? A setup? Or simply a test?
Questions piled upon each other like dominoes in her head. Why her? Why now? What did Lu Zeyan stand to gain from offering this opportunity to someone who had openly challenged him? She thought of his last words before she left the building: "Be careful. Sometimes the fire you play with can burn you." That line echoed in her thoughts like a warning—or a dare.
Xiao Mei sat silently for a long moment before pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. She was known for her sharp mind and fearless voice, yet this situation felt different. It wasn't just about writing anymore; it was about navigating a maze of power, reputation, and hidden agendas.
She sighed and whispered to herself, "What if he's trying to control the narrative? What if he wants to use me as his mouthpiece?" Her writer's instinct kicked in—was this a challenge or manipulation?
Unable to make a decision on her own, she reached for her phone and called her best friend, Li Jing. After a few rings, Li Jing's cheerful voice answered.
"Xiao Mei! I was just thinking about you. What's up?"
"Jing... something weird happened. I met this CEO, Lu Zeyan—"
"Wait, wait. The Lu Zeyan? The guy who's always in the business news?"
"Yeah. He offered me a contract. A big one. He wants me to write a feature about him and other business leaders. But it just feels... strange."
Li Jing was silent for a beat. Then, she said, "You sound like you don't trust him. Do you think he has some kind of hidden agenda?"
"Exactly. I don't know if this is a trap or an opportunity."
"Then follow your gut. But Mei, remember—this could be your chance to make a name for yourself. Just don't lose yourself in the process."
Xiao Mei felt slightly comforted. "Thanks, Jing. You always help me see things clearly."
After the call ended, she stared at the ceiling, thinking back to the early days of her writing journey. She remembered being a little girl sitting at her father's desk, scribbling poems and short stories while he typed on his old typewriter. He had always encouraged her to use her voice, to seek truth, and never to back down from powerful men who thought they could control the world.
"Dad," she whispered, "what would you do if you were me?"
She could almost hear his voice, calm and steady: "Write with your heart, but sharpen your pen like a sword."
That night, Xiao Mei didn't sleep. She stayed up researching Lu Zeyan—his past ventures, controversies, interviews. She found old articles from nearly a decade ago, back when he was still climbing the corporate ladder. There were rumors, whispers of betrayal, of unethical tactics. But nothing solid. Nothing that could be proven.
She also reached out to a former employee from Lu Zeyan's company through a social media platform. The reply was vague but intriguing: "He's not who he seems. Be careful."
The next morning, with tired eyes but a resolute heart, Xiao Mei printed the contract, signed it, and placed it in an envelope. She wasn't accepting out of submission—she was accepting because she wanted answers. And she knew that the only way to truly understand Lu Zeyan was to get closer.
As she looked out the window, watching the people rushing through the streets below, she whispered, "If he dares to play games with me, I'll rip off every mask he hides behind."
Then she smiled—not out of joy, but determination.
This is not just a job. This is war. And I don't plan on losing.