"Axing!" She quickened her pace, walking toward the front desk.
Su Xingyu cursed inwardly; the person coming turned out to be Zhuang Heng.
She wanted to retreat, back into the elevator, but it was already too late. A large group of reporters followed behind Zhuang Heng, flooding in, each holding their cameras, creating a lively scene.
"Quick, quick, that's Axing!"
"Block her! Don't let her run away!"
"I'll block the back; the rest of you hurry! Miss Axing, don't leave! We have a few questions we want to ask you!"
Su Xingyu's face sank. Given this situation, turning and running really wasn't convenient anymore—let alone whether she could outrun those reporters, even if she turned and left, that action would likely be captured by someone, uploaded to the media as some kind of escape.
So she stood still, quietly waiting for Zhuang Heng to bring those reporters over.
