"Good. Because we've only got one shot at this. There are no do-overs in live television."
As the team scattered to their various tasks, printing materials, coordinating with media outlets, preparing the press room, Lu Zeyan found himself standing at his office window, looking out at the city that either loved him or wanted to destroy him, depending on which way the wind blew in the next two hours.
Shuyin appeared beside him, silent as a ghost, her jade eyes reflecting the city lights.
"Nervous?" she asked softly.
"Terrified," he admitted. "Everything I've built is hanging by a thread. One wrong word, one suspicious expression, and it all falls apart."
"Then don't say the wrong words," Shuyin suggested, her tone almost gentle. "Just tell them what they want to hear. People don't want the truth, Zeyan. They want stories that make them feel good. Give them that story."
