Chapter 5: If One Gets Mad, So Be It

Even though the video only showed Lu Hui’s side profile, Xie Ran still watched it over and over again, reluctant to look away.

It wasn’t until after her death that he realized just how much she meant to him.

Longing surged like a tide, a deep-seated love woven into his very bones—yet it came too late. By the time regret hit him, it was already irreversible.

Almost every night, Xie Ran dreamt of Lu Hui clutching her hollowed-out lower back, crying with tear-filled eyes, telling him how much it hurt. In those dreams, his throat was gripped by an invisible force, making it impossible to breathe. He reached out to hold her, but all he grasped was empty air.

Shutting off the video, Xie Ran called his secretary in with a cold, sharp voice.

The secretary noticed his boss’s reddened eyes and the chillingly oppressive aura around him. Instinctively, he assumed he had done something wrong and quickly reported, “President Xie, the PR department has already taken care of the matter as you instructed.”

Xie Ran looked up, his bloodshot eyes filled with pain, his chest aching with every breath. “Not that,” he rasped. “I want you to gather all the information on her.”

The secretary was momentarily stunned. “You mean…?”

“That woman in the video,” Xie Ran said, his voice laced with exhaustion and urgency.

Though surprised, the secretary kept his curiosity to himself. “Understood.”

Xie Ran then set a deadline, his voice icy. “Half an hour. If you can’t get it done in time, you can head to HR and process your resignation tomorrow.”

The secretary had no idea why his boss was suddenly so interested in that small-time celebrity from the video. If he was angry, it shouldn’t have been to this extreme. But there was no time for speculation—he left the office immediately, relaying the task with a serious expression.

Less than thirty minutes later, the secretary handed over a stack of A4 papers containing all of Lu Hui’s information. Only then did the metaphorical sword hanging over his head finally settle.

—

At exactly 6 PM, AS Group released an official statement across all platforms. The headline read “Formal Statement,” and the bottom was stamped with the company’s seal. The statement strictly condemned the false rumors about the president’s private life and announced that legal proceedings were already underway.

Rather than silencing the gossip, the announcement only fanned the flames.

Hashtags like #FastestFaceSlap, #MajorClout-ChasingFail, and #EpicSocialDeathScene all trended, each accompanied by Lu Hui’s name.

It wasn’t just netizens mocking her desperate attempt to cling to fame—even industry insiders joined in, creating private group chats to gossip.

Yue Jie finally felt vindicated. “Lu Hui really doesn’t know her place. Still a nobody, but dares to dream big.”

Another industry insider sent a voice message, laughing. “I almost died laughing when I saw the trending topic after my meeting with an advertiser. Seriously, does she even have a brain? Trying to stir up controversy when she’s not even remotely famous—any acting gigs she lands will be wasted.”

Yue Jie chuckled. “Wonder if her face stings from that slap?”

But Lu Hui felt nothing.

When she saw the clarification statement, she even breathed a sigh of relief.

Great! Truly great!

She had been scared out of her wits. The coincidences were so eerie that even she almost convinced herself. Fortunately, Mr. Xie cleared things up in time, allowing her to gradually dispel her lingering doubts.

She had had enough of that leading man who had once forced her into donating her kidney.

Even after she had agreed to the transplant, he still had her forcibly hospitalized. The entire ward was under his control, bodyguards monitored her 24/7, and she had no freedom to leave—even the door was locked tight.

Her system once praised her, saying, You’re impressive. You endure what no one else can. Most others assigned this mission would have quit long before reaching this point, yet she stuck it out to the end.

So no amount of online hate or industry gossip could faze Lu Hui anymore.

Once filming resumed, she surfed the internet every day, even screenshotting the meanest comments and sending them to Lin Tong.

Lu Hui: These netizens say I’m a shameless clout-chaser. Their jokes are actually pretty funny, hahaha.

Lin Tong: ……

Lin Tong: That’s not a compliment, that’s an insult.

Lu Hui: Do I look like someone who’s afraid of insults?

Lin Tong: 👍👍👍

Lin Tong: Good, you have the mindset of a future superstar.

Seeing Lu Hui constantly liking sarcastic memes and trending joke posts, netizens had no choice but to respect her attitude. The world could be noisy, but it seemed completely unrelated to her. So unbothered. So badass.

—

During her days lounging at home, Lu Hui spent two days thoroughly studying the script. Once she had it down, she shamelessly resumed her lazy, carefree life.

For an entire week, her mother bombarded her with relentless phone calls.

Eventually, Lu Hui had no choice but to answer.

Her mother’s voice came through: “Come home for dinner tonight. Your father has mentioned you several times.”

“Mom, I’m busy.”

“What’s a jobless person busy with?”

Xu Qin had always envisioned her daughter as a high-society lady, so she naturally disapproved of her career choice. She had voiced her dissatisfaction before, and now, she was openly mocking her.

Lu Hui stayed silent.

Xu Qin, a strong-willed woman who had managed to marry into the Sheng family, had done her homework. “I know you rented an apartment for three months. Your lease is almost up.”

She continued, “Your credit cards have been frozen for a while now. I doubt you can afford to rent a two-bedroom place in the second ring anymore. Enough of this nonsense—it’s time to come home.”

Lu Hui had never realized her stepmother cared about her so much.

Xu Qin remained patient. “I know you think your brother and sister don’t like you, but only children hold such petty grudges. You’re an adult now. Throwing tantrums is immature.”

Lu Hui’s response was simple: “Oh.”

Xu Qin pushed harder, insisting she return home that night.

Lu Hui didn’t say yes or no. After hanging up, she thought for a moment—she had originally moved out because the Sheng family didn’t like her, especially Sheng Zhaoming, who looked like he had indigestion every time he saw her.

But on second thought, moving back in wasn’t a loss for her.

She had reached a state of enlightenment—if she moved back, it would only make Sheng Zhaoming and Sheng Lian uncomfortable.

Saving money while annoying people? Absolutely worth it.

So that very evening, she hired a moving service to haul her things back to the Sheng family home.

At the entrance of the villa complex, the old pickup truck was stopped by security. The guard questioned the driver suspiciously, but when Lu Hui stepped out, they reluctantly let them through.

Sheng Zhaoming, who had been sleeping in, was jolted awake by the truck’s rumbling. He stormed downstairs, looking furious in his pajamas.

The moment he saw the moving truck, his face turned green. His disheveled hair stood on end, and his expression was pure disgust.

He folded his arms and sneered, “Didn’t you say you never wanted to see us again?”

Lu Hui ignored him, directing the movers as they carried boxes inside.

Watching the scene, Sheng Zhaoming scoffed, “What, only a few days have passed, and you’re already slinking back with your tail between your legs?”

Lu Hui finally turned to him, smiling. “So, are you happy to see me back?”

“Of course not,” he snapped.

Her smile widened. “Great. If you’re unhappy, then I’m happy.”