Chapter 82: Let Her See Who Wants to Harm Her

Yuewei Studio had been set up in a standalone office building a bit removed from the city center.

The studio wasn’t large, and including Song Wenwei, it only had five artists under its banner.

The most recent recruit was a young college student who had some fame. His family had a bit of money, and he had specifically requested to join here, bringing his own capital with him.

No one knew where Ran Li had found the guy, but he showed up with a head of wild silver hair, strutting in a pair of ostentatiously golden leather boots, and an outfit that left much to be desired… all while riding a motorcycle.

Two SUVs trailed behind him. Once they pulled up to the studio building, five burly bodyguards stepped out of the vehicles.

“You’re here?” Ran Li had been waiting at the door for a while. She took one look at his outfit but said nothing. Some people just had to dress that way, and he had undeniably gained a huge fanbase thanks to his unique style.

Ran Li cut straight to the chase: “How’s the new assistant?”

“The new assistant… he’s just okay.”

“Where is he?”

Mo Tinglin scratched his head, pondering as he walked along, glancing around curiously. Spotting a somewhat unfamiliar figure in the corner, he pointed with both hands: “Isn’t he right there?”

The man was squatting in the corner of the pantry, fiddling with something in his hands with a rustling sound.

Ran Li strode over and grabbed him by the collar. “Zhao Yazhi, right?”

Caught off guard by the sudden move, the man blinked in confusion. “Y-Yes… yes.”

With a smack, a tiny pinhole camera hit the floor at their feet. Ran Li raised an eyebrow at him and demanded without room for denial, “You planted this, didn’t you? Last month, on the sixth floor. Do you still remember where?”

“N-No… it wasn’t me.” Zhao Yazhi waved his hands frantically, his eyes darting away evasively.

“It was planted in Section C on the sixth floor, in Song Wenwei’s office.” Ran Li didn’t give him a chance to argue. She pulled the phone from his pocket and ordered, “Unlock it.”

Zhou Ye had confessed at the police station that his phone had photos of Song Wenwei. That in itself wasn’t unusual, but what was strange were the hospital photos—and there were plenty more…

Zhao Yazhi lunged to snatch the phone back. He roared, “That’s my phone! You have no right to touch it. Even if you’re the boss, you can’t treat employees like this.”

A crowd had gathered around the pantry, craning their necks to see what was happening inside.

“What’s going on? Who’s in there?”

“I want to know too.”

“Let me see, don’t push.”

Mo Tinglin stood at the pantry door. Hearing Ran Li’s words, he sighed inwardly at how the entertainment industry was truly a mixed bag of fish and dragons. He knew this was serious—the fewer people who knew, the better.

With a wave of his hand, three bodyguards blocked the door, their stern expressions making them look like immovable stone statues. The crowd backed off reluctantly.

“You two, hold that guy down,” Mo Tinglin directed smoothly. The three bodyguards rushed in and pinned Zhao Yazhi to the ground.

Ran Li gave Mo Tinglin an approving look. The kid knew how to handle things.

Mo Tinglin stepped forward silently. Since he already knew about this, following the principle of devouring any gossip that came his way, he naturally wanted to see what it was all about.

The phone unlocked. Ran Li’s face grew grim as she opened the gallery and scrolled up. It seemed endless—every photo was of one person: Song Wenwei.

All of them were candid shots. Fortunately, Song Wenwei hadn’t spent much time in the office over the past month.

She had only come to the studio a handful of times recently, mostly staying home except for the variety show recording a few days ago. In just those few short days, countless pictures had piled up. If they hadn’t discovered it, who knew how many more photos and videos there would have been.

A breath caught in Ran Li’s chest as her sharp gaze swept over the defiant man.

A chat notification popped up on the phone—[How much to sell the photo package?]

Ran Li tapped it open. She stared for a long moment, suppressing her rage.

She held the phone in front of Zhao Yazhi’s face, seething: “This wasn’t you? Then what the hell is this?”

“I… You—why are you touching my phone? Why?!”

“You can explain it to the police.” Ran Li stared him down, her lips pressed into a tight line, exuding an aura of quiet fury that made even onlookers uneasy.

Mo Tinglin quietly edged away from her, not daring to eavesdrop on more gossip lest he get caught in the crossfire.

“Wait—we need to go to the hospital first and let Song Wenwei see exactly who wants her dead. Then we head to the police station.” Ran Li smiled, but her expression carried a chilling edge. Mo Tinglin didn’t dare say a word as she turned to leave.

Mo Tinglin stepped aside to let her pass.

She paused and said, “Mo Tinglin, you’re coming too.”

“Huh? Me too…?” Mo Tinglin nodded dazedly, then snapped to attention and waved a hand: “You three, come hold him down.”

“I’ll sue you…!” Zhao Yazhi thrashed wildly. “What gives you the right to do this to me? I’m calling the cops! I’m calling the cops!”

Mo Tinglin plugged his ears. Stealing shots and acting so righteous—what a scumbag.

With a look of disgust, he said, “Find something to gag his mouth. Too damn noisy.”

One bodyguard got the signal, grabbed a rag that had been tossed by the sink, thought better of it, and fetched a clean cloth instead before stuffing it in.

“Mmph! Mmph!”

—

In the hospital room.

Five bodyguards hauled the man inside. Ran Li yanked the cloth from his mouth.

The moment his mouth was free, Zhao Yazhi spotted the woman sitting primly on the bed, her pale face and the bandage wrapped around her head.

He burst into uncontrollable laughter, his chest heaving. “You look just like you did six years ago. Such a shame the fire was so big but didn’t leave a single burn. What a pity.”

“Why do you want to kill me?” Song Wenwei stepped closer and asked.

“Why? Good question. Because of you—of course it’s because of you. You ruined me. Why don’t you just die!”

The man screamed hysterically as four bodyguards restrained his limbs.

Song Wenwei saw him clearly now. He was Mo Tinglin’s new assistant—the sharp, capable-looking guy who always seemed to pop up in the pantry.

“What does this have to do with me?” Song Wenwei asked.

He was just a new assistant. She truly hadn’t known him before he joined the studio, and nothing in her memories connected to him. She hadn’t harmed him.

“No relation?” The man’s eyes burned red. “You killed my dad. You left me homeless. How can there be no relation?”

“Who was your dad?”

“Don’t you remember? He was the driver who went to prison six years ago…” Zhao Yazhi forced a bitter laugh. “You forgot? He doted on you so much—you should remember him forever. How could you forget?”

His words slithered up her body like an icy serpent, starting from her calves and climbing higher, each inch bringing bone-chilling cold.

How could you forget…

Yes, she could never forget.

The driver’s panicked, resolute back in the cold wind, the empty street lit only by flashing headlights. He stopped and started, her hope rising and falling with him.

“It’s in the past.” A gentle voice shattered the memory. She turned to meet those tender, almond-shaped phoenix eyes.

A warm hand rested on her shoulder, chasing away the chill. It didn’t feel so cold anymore.

Yes… it was all in the past. Song Wenwei closed her eyes, casting aside the memories. She was still alive. She hadn’t died that night.

“He died the next year—in prison. You deserved to get hit!” Zhao Yazhi roared. “If you hadn’t gotten my dad thrown in jail, my mom and dad wouldn’t have divorced. He wouldn’t have had a heart attack. You tore my family apart—dad dead, home gone—all because of you!”

“Because of you, I had to repeat a grade. No dad, mom left too. I became an orphan. You’re the root of all evil!”

“What does any of this have to do with her?” Lu Nan pressed forward step by step. “Get your timeline straight. If there’s no connection, nothing you say matters. All that’s waiting for you is the law.”

“Throw me in jail then! I’m all alone—what’s there to fear? Song Wenwei, if I go down, you’re coming with me. We’ll rot in hell together, hahaha! Just wait—nobody suffers alone. If I die, I’m dragging you with me!”