The apartment felt smaller than it had an hour ago.
Xiaoyu sat on the edge of the sofa, her phone cold and heavy in her hands. The noise outside had dulled slightly—press herded back by security, voices muffled but persistent—but inside her chest, everything was loud.
Her parents' contact photo stared back at her from the screen.
She hadn't called them yet.
She hadn't known how.
The CEO stood near the window, phone pressed to his ear, speaking in a low, controlled voice. Shen Lu hovered by the kitchen counter, scrolling through updates, jaw tight, shoulders tense.
No one rushed her.
That somehow made it worse.
Xiaoyu swallowed hard and tapped the call button.
It rang once.
Twice.
"Xiaoyu?" her mother answered, warm and immediate. "Where are you? We are worried sick, we have been calling you but you were not answering."
Her throat closed.
"I—" Xiaoyu inhaled sharply, then forced herself to speak. "Mom. Dad. I… I might not be able to come home yet."
There was a pause.
Her father's voice came on the line, calm but alert. "What do you mean?"
Xiaoyu stared at the floor, at the faint shadow her hands cast against the carpet. Her fingers curled into her skirt, gripping the fabric like an anchor.
"I'm staying with a friend," she said carefully.
The word friend felt fragile in her mouth.
"A friend?" her mother repeated. "What friend?"
Her heart stumbled.
"She—she had an emergency," Xiaoyu said, the words sticking. "Something happened last night. She needed help, and… I couldn't leave her alone."
There it was.
The lie.
It tasted bitter.
"What kind of emergency?" her father asked gently, but the gentleness made her chest ache.
Xiaoyu hesitated too long.
"I can't really explain it properly," she said quickly, too quickly. "It's complicated. She was… very unwell."
Her mother sighed. "Is it serious?"
"Yes," Xiaoyu said, immediately. Too immediate. "I mean—she's okay now, but she needs someone with her."
Silence stretched across the line.
Xiaoyu squeezed her eyes shut.
Her mother spoke again, slower this time. "Xiaoyu, are you safe?"
The question hit her like a blow.
"Yes," Xiaoyu said, voice wavering. "I'm safe."
"Where are you?" her father asked.
Her chest tightened painfully.
"At her place," she said. "I'll come home as soon as I can."
Another pause.
Her parents had always known her too well. They could hear the cracks she tried to smooth over.
"You don't sound well," her mother said softly. "Are you crying?"
Xiaoyu pressed her lips together, forcing the tears back. "I'm just tired."
"If something happened—" her father began.
"Nothing happened," Xiaoyu said, sharper than she meant to. She winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean— I'm just stressed."
She waited for them to push.
They didn't.
"All right," her mother said finally, though worry threaded every syllable. "Take care of your friend. Call us later."
"I will," Xiaoyu promised, even though she didn't know when later would be.
She ended the call and sat there, staring at the blank screen long after it went dark.
Her hands were shaking.
She had never lied to them like that before.
Across the room, the CEO ended his call and turned back toward Shen Lu.
"We move to the office," he said. "Now."
The car ride down was tense and silent.
Security cleared a private route through the underground parking. Xiaoyu kept her head lowered, heart pounding every time a flash reflected against the windows. Even knowing they couldn't see her didn't stop the fear from crawling up her spine.
At the office, chaos had already taken root.
Phones rang nonstop. Screens flickered with headlines, notifications, videos looping endlessly. Employees whispered in clusters, eyes darting away the moment the CEO passed.
Xiaoyu followed Shen Lu closely, feeling like she was walking through a storm made of sound.
Inside the conference room, the PR team was already gathered. Laptops open. Faces pale. Coffee untouched.
"This is escalating faster than anticipated," one of them said the moment the door closed. "We've managed to suppress some tags, but the bar footage keeps resurfacing."
The CEO sat at the head of the table, hands folded calmly in front of him. Xiaoyu remained near the wall, trying to make herself smaller.
"What's the narrative now?" he asked.
"Public breakdown," another voice answered. "Speculation about a personal relationship. Accusations of power imbalance."
Xiaoyu's stomach twisted.
"And?" the CEO prompted.
"And this," Shen Lu said quietly.
He connected his tablet to the screen.
The room went still.
A video played.
The bar's lighting was dim, the sound grainy—but unmistakable.
Xiaoyu saw herself.
Her face.
Clear.
Unmistakably hers.
Her eyes were red, wet with tears. Her mouth open mid-cry. Her hand came up, striking his chest, the moment slowed down cruelly, frozen and replayed.
Someone in the room inhaled sharply.
"They enhanced it," Shen Lu said. "Face recognition picked it up. The comments are shifting."
Xiaoyu's knees nearly buckled.
She pressed her back against the wall, breath coming in shallow bursts.
"They're asking who she is," someone said. "Some have already started digging. Employment records. University. Family."
The room buzzed with overlapping voices.
"We need to distance—"
"No, that'll look like abandonment—"
"If we release a statement now—"
"At least acknowledge—"
Xiaoyu's ears rang.
She felt exposed in a way she'd never known before. Like the world had peeled her open and decided she was public property.
Outside the conference room, the office hummed with its own storm.
By lunchtime, the whispers had grown louder.
"Did you see the video?"
"That's her, right?"
"No way, she works on our floor."
"I heard she hit him."
"Isn't that Xiaoyu from—"
She kept her head down as she walked past cubicles, Shen Lu beside her like a shield. Screens flickered as people pretended not to stare.
Pretended.
A group near the pantry fell silent when she passed.
Someone else whispered too late.
"That's her."
The word followed her down the hall.
Her chest hurt. Her hands felt numb.
Back in the CEO's office, the tension was suffocating.
"They're losing control of the narrative," Shen Lu said quietly. "If her identity spreads internally, it'll leak externally within hours."
The CEO stood by the window, watching the city move like nothing was wrong.
Xiaoyu stood a few steps behind him, fingers knotted together, heart in her throat.
"I can resign," she said suddenly.
Both men turned.
"I don't want to cause trouble," she said, voice shaking but firm. "If I leave—"
"No," the CEO said immediately.
She looked up at him, startled.
"That won't stop this," he continued. "It will only confirm their worst assumptions."
Silence settled again, heavy and sharp.
The CEO turned back toward the room, his expression unreadable.
"I have the solution," he said.
Everyone froze.
Shen Lu looked at him sharply. "You're sure?"
"Yes."
Xiaoyu's heart skipped painfully. "What solution?"
He didn't answer her right away.
Instead, he looked at all of them—PR, Shen Lu, the screens still looping her worst moment.
"It will end the speculation," he said calmly. "And it will redirect the narrative completely."
A chill crept up Xiaoyu's spine.
"And Xiaoyu?" Shen Lu asked carefully.
The CEO's gaze finally settled on her.
"It will protect her," he said.
Her breath caught.
"But," he added, voice steady, "it will change everything."
The room held its breath.
And somewhere outside, the storm continued to grow.