Sun Xiang writes first
The press staffer points at you and Sun Xiang’s smirk arrives a beat before the microphone reaches your hand. He’s already leaning back, one arm draped over the back of his chair, the One Autumn Leaf account card glittering in its case beside him like an ornament.
He taps his microphone twice, theatrical.
“Ah. A new face. Excellent.” Tilts his head. “Ask whatever you came to ask. If it’s about whether the team is in good hands, the answer is on the table next to me. If it’s about whether the previous captain misses this account — “ a small, careless laugh “ — that’s a question for him, not me.”
He gestures with the mic, generous, indulgent, the way of someone who genuinely believes he’s giving you a gift.
“You have one question. Make it count.”




