The media that came for interviews were not just from one organization, and since news emphasizes timeliness, negative stories about Jiang Jiu quickly swept in once again.
Somehow, those people even learned Jiang Jiu's address and sent individuals to wait right at the bottom of her apartment complex.
Looking down from her window, Jiang Jiu instantly felt a headache brewing.
Even if they were well-concealed, how could Jiang Jiu, a journalist for so many years, fail to notice these reporters disguised in plain clothes?
She didn't even need to check Weibo now to know just how viciously she was being insulted.
Jiang Jiu drew the curtains closed, lay down on the couch, and curled into a small ball.
The abusive voices seemed to penetrate everywhere, seeping through her skin and invading her bones, leaving Jiang Jiu feeling bitterly cold all over.
It was as if countless noisy voices were mocking and insulting her.
