Celia lost her balance and stumbled forward.
Breaking through the red cordon ahead, she burst into the center of the hall—only to freeze in shock.
At that moment, Nathaniel Fu approached. She looked up and met his deep, cold, narrow eyes.
He raised his gaze and glanced at her indifferently.
That look was utterly foreign to her—stripped of all the affection and tenderness he once held.
Now, he simply stared at her, taking in her disheveled and embarrassed appearance.
Celia: "..."
"Who are you? Get her out of here!"
Before she could react, two tall, black-clad bodyguards stepped forward. One grabbed each of her arms, lifting her effortlessly off the ground.
They were well-trained. Helplessly, Celia watched her feet leave the floor as she was dragged back into the crowd.
Nathaniel did not pause. He strode past with Secretary Song and entered the CEO's private elevator.
The crowd erupted into whispers, their curious eyes fixed on her.
"Oh my god, that was humiliating!""Is she trying to get President Fu's attention?""Dream on! President Fu belongs to Miss Lu. Everyone in the capital knows she's the one he cherishes, though he can't have her. Why would he ever be interested in her?"
Celia: "..."
Oh no! She had wanted to approach Nathaniel, but absolutely not like this!
Her cheeks burned with shame. She wished she could find a hole to crawl into and disappear.
Secretary Song pushed open the CEO's office door. Nathaniel entered, placed the documents on his desk, and asked calmly, "Why is she here?"
Secretary Song instantly understood who "she" referred to—Celia.
She had unexpectedly shown up at Fu Corporation. Secretary Song quickly checked and replied respectfully, "President, Miss Su came to register for the fashion designer competition."
Competing?
Designing a wedding dress for Yara Lu?
Nathaniel's expression remained unreadable. "Remove her name from the list. I don't want to see her in Fu Corporation again."
"Yes, President." Secretary Song accepted the order and withdrew.
Celia had waited in line for three hours before it was finally her turn to register. She had just completed the process successfully.
Stretching her stiff limbs, she prepared to leave.
Suddenly, a staff member rushed over. "Hello, Miss Su."
Celia paused. "Hello."
"Miss Su, I'm very sorry, but you won't be able to participate in this fashion design competition."
"What?"
She had stood in line for hours, finally registered successfully, and now she was being told she couldn't?
"Why? Can you tell me the reason?" Celia pressed.
The staff member lowered his voice. "I'm sorry, Miss Su. This came as an order from higher up. You're not allowed to participate."
An order from above?
There was no need to guess—it had to be Nathaniel Fu.
He must have seen her register and ordered her name erased.
As Celia left the Fu Corporation's gates, she caught sight of Nathaniel coming downstairs and stepping into a sleek Rolls-Royce.
"Wait!" Celia rushed forward.
Inside the car, Secretary Song, seated in the driver's seat, noticed her and asked the man in the back, "President, Miss Su is here."
Nathaniel lowered his gaze to the documents in his hand and said coldly, "Drive."
"Yes, sir."
But Celia had already reached the car. Through the half-lowered window, she saw him.
"President Fu," she called, breathless, "why won't you let me participate? I meet all the qualifications for Fu Corporation's fashion competition. Everyone else has a fair chance—so why shouldn't I?"