The night was deep, and all was silent.
In the second-floor bedroom of the villa, Lu Xiaoying was wrapped in a soft down comforter, sleeping especially sweetly and peacefully, a carefree little smile still lingering on her lips.
Yet in the guest room just one wall away, it was an entirely different scene.
Gong Qing clutched her scorching phone as she paced back and forth across the room.
President Zhao's incoming call kept flashing on the screen like a death warrant.
The roar from the other end nearly pierced through the receiver.
"Do you know what kind of backing Minghuang Group has? One word from them, and we won't be able to survive anywhere in this entire industry!"
She collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the gradually brightening sky outside the window, her head splitting with pain.
That night, she was like a prisoner shoved onto the judgment stand, enduring an entire night of phone bombardment from every side.
Only when dawn began to break did the cursing gradually cease.
Gong Qing looked at her haggard reflection in the mirror and could not help but smile bitterly—over the course of one night, she had heard every filthiest word in the entertainment industry.
The phone's casing was already hot enough to burn her hand. Red low-battery warnings kept popping up at the top of the screen, eerily resembling Gong Qing's nerves as they teetered on the brink of collapse.
She slumped helplessly on the sofa, her beautiful hair in complete disarray, dark circles beneath her eyes and bloodshot veins filling them.
President Zhao's hysterical roar from earlier seemed to still echo in her ears.
"Gong Qing! You useless bastard who ruins everything! You've gotten me killed this time!"
"Minghuang Group officially sent a notice last night—the contract is terminated! We breached