C9 Chapter 9

His face hardened as he said, “You think getting an interview with him is that easy? Why is it that you people in the media only think about what you stand to gain, and never about the fallout that comes from putting someone’s personal information on blast?”

Su Mengxin froze. She truly had never thought about that. She’d always believed that news coverage brought influence, that it could push an industry—or a person—forward. It had never occurred to her that it could also do harm.

“I…”

The words wouldn’t come. She stared at Loong Yufan’s profile and suddenly felt like he was miles away. The lines of his face were sharp and clean; a faint sheen caught along the bridge of his high nose. His dark lashes flickered, and when his gaze shifted, it felt like he could see straight through her.

Unable to come up with any real explanation, Su Mengxin lowered her head in defeat and slowly stood. “Thanks for bringing me out today.”

Those clear, bright eyes of hers were full of disappointment. She hadn’t realized an interview could be a burden to the person on the other side of it. Her previous assignments had all been arranged in advance—both sides agreed. No one had ever flat-out refused.

But this time, the biggest problem was that she didn’t even know who the president of Loong’s Group was—and even if she found out, would he agree to an interview?

Thinking about the steep breach-of-contract penalty, Su Mengxin could only grit her teeth.

Why did everything have to be so hard? This was the opposite of fun.

She opened her bag, reaching for her phone to call her agent, Yang Jiao—when she suddenly realized something.

Loong Yufan’s wallet was still in her bag.

She’d forgotten to give it back!

Su Mengxin stood there for a moment, stunned. After hesitating again and again, she finally talked herself into it.

Just take a look. Maybe she’d find something useful—maybe it would help her pull off this assignment.

After this, she was never taking another random, headache-inducing job like this again.

There was nothing unusual inside the wallet: a few bank cards, a stack of cash, and a business card tucked in the middle.

The card had only one name stamped in gold—Loong Yufan—with his phone number underneath. Nothing else.

Is this a business card? There’s barely anything on it. Whoever made it really didn’t care.

Loong Yufan sneezed in his office, rubbed his nose, and thought of the way Su Mengxin had stood there, completely thrown off by his bluff. It was honestly adorable—and kind of fun.

Then it hit him: he hadn’t gotten his wallet back.

And Su Mengxin, that airhead, had actually told the president of Loong’s Group that she didn’t know who the president was. That wasn’t just clueless—that was next-level.

The phone on Loong Yufan’s desk rang. He picked up, and a familiar female voice came through. “Hello, Mr. Loong. This is Su Mengxin.”

“Calling to bring my wallet back?” Loong Yufan asked, testing her—curious what she was really thinking.

Su Mengxin, determined to commit to her mistake all the way, worked up the nerve and said, “Mr. Loong, since you work at Loong’s Group, you should be able to meet Director Loong, right? You’re both named Loong, so you’re probably family. Can you help me set up a meeting with him?”

The air in the office froze. Loong Yufan smiled. He’d never thought someone could be this clueless and still somehow this cute.

Loong’s Group’s confidentiality really was airtight.

Hearing him laugh, Su Mengxin’s nerves went haywire.

“Can you?” she asked again.

Loong Yufan shut her down without hesitation. “Why would I help you?”

Su Mengxin frowned. She hadn’t wanted to threaten him, but she still said it: “Your wallet is still with me. If you want it back, help me out.”

If this had been harmless back-and-forth before, Loong Yufan might’ve played along. But now that Su Mengxin was trying to strong-arm him, by his nature he should’ve blown up on the spot.

The secretary watched his expression from the side and couldn’t help widening her eyes. So their president could look this animated—frowning one second, chuckling the next, even flashing anger and restraint.

Who was the person on the other end, really?

Yufan glanced up at the ceiling and said with a smile, “It’s just a wallet. Worst case, I’ll buy another one.”

“And your gold cards and cash? You’re just going to let me keep them? You wouldn’t be that generous, would you?” Su Mengxin “kindly” reminded him.

What a clueless woman.

She’d seen all those gold cards and still hadn’t questioned who Yufan really was.

Maybe it was because she’d already made up her mind—she pictured a big-shot CEO as someone untouchable, probably in his forties, with a beer belly and that polished, corporate look.

Yufan wasn’t thrilled, but when he thought about how much of a hassle it would be to replace those international cards, he agreed.

“Fine. But you’ve got to at least buy me dinner,” Yufan said, taking the chance to squeeze a little something out of her.

“Of course. Dinner tomorrow night.”

Su Mengxin relaxed immediately. After thanking him over and over, she hung up.

That night, Su Mengxin slept well. After giving Yang Jiao a quick heads-up, she started drafting her interview outline—mostly about Loong Group’s future direction and the like, nothing too personal.