"ENOUGH!" Wang Jing barked from the wings, but her voice disappeared instantly beneath the roar of questions and accusations that filled the space with hostile energy.
Security guards rushed onto the stage, pushing through the forest of cameras and microphones and furious bodies pressing forward.
Several journalists tripped over cables in their desperation to get closer, equipment clattering to the floor. The massive screen behind them flickered again, and Lu Zeyan's stomach dropped as another image began loading.
A video this time. A dimly lit apartment hallway appeared on screen, the footage grainy but clear enough to make out two figures. Lin Yueling laughed at something, her face visible for just a moment before someone, unmistakably male, shielded her from the camera with an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.
The angle was poor, the quality degraded by distance and low light. But the silhouette was recognizable. The height matched. The build matched.
