Chapter 118

Chapter 108

The freezing wind lashed against her exposed skin. Rong Hui was wearing nothing but the most basic, stringy lingerie; the biting chill sobered her instantly. Standing exposed before the public, she felt like the most shameless of prostitutes, left for all to gawk at.

Even if Rong Hui was shameless and devoid of dignity, she had never imagined being stripped bare in public. Seeing the pointing fingers and the looks of utter contempt from the onlookers, the twenty-year-old girl could no longer bear the pressure. She buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly, doing her best to cover her exposed skin with her body. Unfortunately, the wife of Young Master Wang was not someone to be trifled with. She grabbed Rong Hui and forced her hands behind her back.

The woman roared with rage, "You filthy slut, you love seducing men, don't you? Let's see what’s so special about that body of yours." By now, some passersby had already whipped out their phones to record the farce, leaving Rong Hui’s face and body fully exposed.

Rong Hui’s exquisite makeup was ruined by her tears, and her face, swollen from being slapped, was bruised and unrecognizable. Squinting through eyes as puffy as walnuts, she caught sight of a familiar face. She began to struggle frantically, tearing and wailing until she finally broke free from the grip behind her. She threw herself at the feet of the man hiding in the corner, her face smeared with snot and tears. "Young Master... Young Master Wang... save me... please..." Rong Hui sobbed uncontrollably. Gone was her previous seductive air. Looking at her wretched face, the man felt a wave of disgust. Hmph, it was one thing that this woman was stupid enough to send his home address to her phone, but now she had proven even more incompetent. Did she not look in a mirror? Did she really think she was some superstar who could compare to his legitimate wife? Although his wife was a bit fierce, she at least provided a well-connected background.

Hmph, terrified of being implicated, Young Master Wang wore an expression of utter disdain and launched a preemptive strike. "You bitch, it’s bad enough you tried to seduce me, but you even wanted to destroy my family!" With a 'thud,' he kicked Rong Hui a meter away. Then, wearing a warm and charming smile, he draped an arm around his wife’s waist and said softly, "Are you satisfied now, darling? Let’s go home; it’s not a good look having so many people watching."

The woman looked at her husband’s familiar, smiling face, gave a disdainful snort, and stopped the commotion. "Hmph, I’ll deal with you when we get home."

"Yes, yes, of course. Whatever you want, I promise not to talk back or fight back. I’ll make it up to you, my dear." At that moment, the philandering young master played the part of the tender-hearted lover, flirting openly with the wife who had just caught him in bed.

"Hmph, you wretch~ aren't we leaving?" Young Master Wang trotted dutifully behind his wife, bringing the farce to an end.

Rong Hui stood there, haggard and worn. As she watched the pair depart, tears blurred her vision. The onlookers sneered at her, their harsh words like salt on a wound, slicing into her already rotting heart until she couldn't breathe.

Dragging her heavy feet, she limped toward the stairs. The icy wind pierced her bones, and her body felt like a punctured airship, plummeting downward.

*Thud.* Rong Hui slammed the door shut and huddled in the corner, clutching her head as if that could shield her from the boundless cold and the contempt in people’s eyes. Was she right to do this? She wondered more than once. She must be right; at least she still had this apartment.

As expected, the next day, what had been a personal drama turned into a viral sensation. Photos were uploaded online, and the scandal in a famous district for mistresses in City X spread like wildfire, garnering over a million hits. Even the national news mentioned the scandalous incident. Rong Hui, already notorious as a sex symbol from a previous photo scandal, once again became the target of public outrage.

This was no longer just a private emotional entanglement; it had escalated to a matter of moral ethics. The consequences were dire. Neither the arrogant socialite portraying the shrew nor the philandering scoundrel escaped unscathed. The media launched a massive assault on them, and the national broadcaster even issued a ban on Rong Hui. All of her works and performances were declared unrecognized by the state.

"How could it come to this?" *Slap!* A stack of papers hit Rong Hui in the face, scattering photos of her across the floor. "Rong Hui, this is not what we signed up for! How am I supposed to make money with a face like that?" the owner of the small production company cursed viciously. He had hoped to make a fortune off her, but instead, he had lost everything, incurring a massive loss in marketing fees.

Rong Hui, sporting dark circles under her eyes, looked worse for wear. Though the swelling had gone down slightly after the night, her nose—which she had augmented—her jawline, and her eyes, all recently surgically altered, had been battered by that vicious woman. Much of the plastic surgery had been undone; her nose was visibly sunken, and her face was asymmetrical. She looked bloated and hideous.

"Boss, it’s my fault this time. Please give me some time; the injuries on my face will heal," Rong Hui pleaded anxiously.

"No need." The boss scrutinized that face, which could never be restored. Why invest in a failed product when there were plenty of beautiful women out there? "Rong Hui, because of your breach of contract, you have caused irreparable losses to the company. You are responsible for all of it." He tossed a list of expenses in front of her.

Her hands trembled as she counted the zeros in horror—a debt that would be impossible to pay off even if she sold her whole family. She was truly finished. Her lifelong dream of stardom had ended in nothing. She had lost her reputation and her wealth, and now she was a pariah. She could no longer suppress the terror in her heart. "Boss... no. It’s not like that. Can you give me one more chance? Please?" She grabbed the hem of his trousers, her face full of despair.

"Someone, throw her out." Two bodyguards walked in from the hallway, hoisted her up, and, just as ordered, showed no mercy, tossing Rong Hui out of the company.

The boss brushed the wrinkles off his trousers. "Hmph, bad luck! Tell them to keep a close eye on Rong Hui. If she can't come up with the money within a week, send people to smash up her home first."

Meanwhile, compared to the turmoil in Rong Hui's life, Rong Qing’s days were incredibly comfortable. By day, she worked hard on set; by night, she had a beauty to warm her bed and the occasional reward from the director. After a conversation they’d had, they seemed to reach a mutual understanding, and their relationship grew significantly more intimate.

Today’s shoot was the first battle of Ailusi’s escape. Clad in armor made of hard iron plates and wielding a rusted greatsword, Ailusi organized the fleeing refugees for their first desperate counterattack. With her limbs wrapped in heavy iron, her slender frame bore the weight of the entire refugee camp.

"Leader, the Wild Wolf Tribe has discovered our escape and sent an army to pursue us. W-what do we do?" a young man in rags asked in terror. They had barely escaped the devil’s territory; were they to be dragged back again?

Ailusi narrowed her eyes, her expression solemn. She surveyed their surroundings—lofty, perilous peaks and dense forests that blotted out the sun. Though the terrain was treacherous, it was easy to defend and difficult to attack, which was not necessarily a disadvantage for them.

"Listen to me," Ailusi’s resonant voice cut through the panicked crowd. She had led them out of the Wild Wolf’s control, and in their hearts, she was their last glimmer of hope. "The enemy is almost upon us. If we want to survive, we must climb that peak!"

She pointed to a boundless, sheer cliff, so steep that one wrong step could mean burial at the bottom.

Immediately, some faltered. "No, I can't do it. I’ll fall," they cried. "I can't climb that..."

Ailusi did not give them time to hesitate. She said ruthlessly, "If you can't do it, stay behind and continue living that inhuman, tormented life. Those who want to live, follow me. Move!"

As soon as she finished speaking, several of her trusted followers headed toward the steep peak. Ailusi’s resolute figure only heightened the crowd’s panic. Was it better to live on their knees in torment, or to fight for a glimmer of freedom? The balance in their hearts tilted in an instant. Damn it, for freedom and a new life, they would fight!

When a group of captives determined to survive decides to fight, the power they unleash can shake the heavens. Even if their bodies were ravaged and exhausted, their spirits were strong enough to withstand any hardship. Under the scorching sun, a group of ragged refugees scaled the mountain, digging their feet into stone crevices and clutching at vines, inching their way toward the heights of victory.

Suddenly, a man lost his grip due to exhaustion and was about to plummet into the abyss when a force caught his back. His body found support, and he survived.

"Be careful, don't give up so easily," Ailusi said coldly. There was no trace of feminine fragility on her exquisite face; instead, a powerful, masculine heroism radiated from her. Her resolute eyes and nimble movements became the light of hope for this band of outcasts.

"Cut!" Evans shouted, reluctant to call an end to the scene. It was damn good. Rong Qing’s high-level performance had his blood boiling. He truly looked forward to the grand spectacle when *God of the Wilderness* premiered worldwide; he believed the whole world would be stunned.

Rong Qing was dangling from a wire, hundreds of meters up on the peak. It was damn uncomfortable, and the harness dug into her, causing her pain all over. The props master carefully adjusted her descent, sweat beading on his forehead as he feared that the man with the dark, sharp eyes standing nearby might do something unpredictable if he made even the slightest mistake.

Every time Rong Qing performed a dangerous scene, it left the man beside her on edge. Even though he had checked the props dozens of times, his anxiety only grew heavier. Only when he saw his treasure safely on the ground did he slowly loosen his clenched fists. His heavy breathing eased, and he seemed to come back to life.

Rong Qing shed her armor. For a woman weighing only a hundred pounds, the heavy equipment was pure torture. She could clearly feel that the iron edges had sliced her wrists, and her body was surely covered in bruises.