10 PM.
Yuan Qing lay on a hospital bed at Anji Hospital, opening the Screaming app to read the latest chapter of "The Diary of a Tycoon," which had just been updated.
[The businessman who imprisoned the girl is surnamed Hei—I’ll just call him Mr. Hei.
Mr. Hei is a successful entrepreneur with countless assets, a prominent figure in Jiangcheng.
He had a son who died in a tragic accident.
It’s said that this son once obsessively pursued a certain girl, xx.
Perhaps it was out of a desperate love for his son that Mr. Hei committed such a cruel act.
A Taoist master and the police went together to his home.
Mr. and Mrs. Hei were having dinner. Strangely, in their large villa, there wasn’t a single servant in sight. Even stranger, across from their seats was a third set of bowls and chopsticks.
The dishes even showed signs of having been used.
Yet, there was no third person in the villa.
A seasoned police officer asked sharply, “Why is there a third set of bowls and chopsticks?”
Thinking quickly, Mrs. Hei replied, “It’s to remember our son.”
The Taoist master sneered, saying nothing more, and cast a talisman that landed beside Mrs. Hei.
A hoarse scream echoed through the empty living room, and suddenly, another figure appeared!
No—more precisely, a ghost.
His face was exactly the same as the Hei family’s son who had died years ago.
Amid the Hei couple’s anger and terror, the Taoist master subdued the ghost of their son.
Just as they were about to leave, a faint noise came from upstairs.
The Taoist master’s expression changed sharply. “There’s someone upstairs!”
The police rushed up immediately.
In a corner, they discovered a hidden room—a cramped, windowless chamber surrounded by walls on all sides, suffocating and dark.
Even more suffocating was the woman lying on the floor.
She was covered in wounds, a heartbreaking sight.
This wasn’t “a father’s desperate love,” this was “a father turned demon.”
Though xx was rescued, my mood remained heavy. In corners I couldn’t see, there were many more innocent victims like her.
Those around me noticed my gloom and suggested I go out for some fresh air.
The new semester had just started at Jiangcheng University, bustling with youthful energy. There, young students blossomed like sunflowers basking in the sun—passionate, vibrant, and pure.
I never attended university. To survive, I had to start working early, and I often envied the carefree lives of college students.
Taking their advice, I decided to visit Jiangcheng University.
The start of the school year was indeed lively.
I walked along the campus path, flanked by ginkgo trees whose leaves were turning golden as autumn approached.
On the sports field, young people were full of enthusiasm, sweating and giving their all.
The sun blazed overhead.
I moved toward a shady spot under the trees.
Suddenly, a chill, sinister aura drifted from nearby. Under the blazing sun, it felt eerie, sending shivers down my spine.
I turned to look and was stunned.
Under the bright sky, such overwhelming darkness—here, inside this ivory tower of learning.
I hurried over.
The source of the dark energy was a dense, shadowy grove, rarely visited by people.
Following the aura, I found its origin.
Beneath a towering tree, the dark energy spiraled endlessly.
I felt an immense hatred radiating from it.
And rightly so.
Beneath the fertile soil lay a dismembered skeleton.
One could only imagine the suffering it endured in life.
A deep sorrow washed over me. Even this pure campus couldn’t escape the shadow of darkness.
When I got home, my heart remained heavy.
The righteous police officer comforted me, saying, "There will always be darkness in this world, but we are born to bring light."
Looking at his young, innocent face and recalling his sacrifice, I suddenly understood.
Since darkness exists, I must strive to learn and break through those eerie shadows.
I opened the ancient texts on mysticism.
Suddenly, someone reached out to me on social media.
He said his daughter was missing, nowhere to be found, and that he had heard I possessed some mystical skills. He hoped I could help him find her.
Some kind-hearted netizens also urged me to be a good person.
I glanced at the photo of his daughter and stared wide-eyed in shock.
Afraid I had made a mistake, I double-checked many times, but the result was always the same.
This girl’s parents had long since passed away.
]
End of the new chapter.
Yuan Qing read it, laughing and crying at the same time.
The novel was written so simply, but only she could deeply feel the torment of being imprisoned all these years—like an endless hell, burning her soul and will.
And as the story said, there are many others in this world still suffering.
She had been saved by the master, but what about the others?
Yuan Qing’s eyes grew passionate, and she silently made a decision.
She had originally planned to donate money, but her savings were nearly gone, so she settled on leaving a positive comment in the review section to show her gratitude.
And the comment section, stirred up by the latest chapter of *The Heiress Diary*, had already erupted with waves of discussion.
[“If you see me, please call me to prepare lessons: The last line scared me so much! I saw that Weibo post—Master Baishui hasn’t replied, and many people mocked him. Then someone claiming to be a Taoist priest responded. Oh my god! I’m really freaking out!”]
[“Lucky Today: Damn! The girl’s parents are dead, so what’s the person who posted that help request trying to do?”]
[“Great Fortune: That so-called Taoist priest must be crazy! How can he not see the parents are both gone?”]
[“Big Luck Today: So what should we do now? Is the address that idiot gave even correct?”]
[“Literary Drought is Killing Me: Thinking about it deeply is terrifying.”]
[“So Touching: This story always links with Weibo, feels so subtle. Is the author trying to go viral in a bad way? Are the comments all staged? I really don’t get it.”]
[“Lost 20 Pounds in 3 Months: Whether the author is right or not, we should all stay vigilant, right? It would hurt so much if a girl got hurt because of negligence.”]
[“A Plum Blossom in Full Bloom: That Taoist on Weibo actually has a legit priest certificate. The author’s just a novelist—you can’t really believe what they say, can you?”]
Yuan Qing was stunned by one of the comments.
It wasn’t the content that surprised her, but the username.
She had seen that nickname before.
She and Qi Yingxue had collaborated before; they had been guest stars on a variety show, each only participating in one episode.
During a break, Qi Yingxue was probably preparing for her next role and was holding her phone, reading the original novel.
At that time, the website was lagging, and Qi Yingxue grew a bit anxious, trying to switch pages. As she passed by, Yuan Qing caught a glimpse of Qi Yingxue’s personal homepage—the nickname was “A Plum Blossom in Full Bloom.”
Yuan Qing knew the phrase “A Plum Blossom in Full Bloom” from the poem “A Plum Blossom in Full Bloom, Yingxue Opens.”
That nickname left a particularly deep impression on her.
Could “A Plum Blossom in Full Bloom” really be Qi Yingxue?
Over the years, besides acting, she had endured nothing but suffering and hadn’t paid much attention to anything else happening in Longjiang City. But recently, she had vaguely heard about the whole “true and fake heiress” scandal involving the Qi family while on set.
Fans and netizens might be clueless, but she knew the truth about Qi Yingxue’s real identity.
Could the “fake heiress” mentioned in *The Diary of a Wealthy Family* be referring to Qi Yingxue?
Yuan Qing furrowed her brows and began scrolling through the comments under each chapter.
There were comments under every chapter of *A Tree of Red Plum Blossoms*, and almost all of them subtly opposed the author, filled with sarcasm. Yet, Yuan Qing sensed a hint of insecurity behind those words.
In the chapters mentioning the “fake heiress,” the hostility in the comments was especially blatant.
Yuan Qing was ninety percent sure that this “A Tree of Red Plum Blossoms” was none other than Qi Yingxue.
She held no grudge against Qi Yingxue, so logically, she shouldn’t care how the other person commented. But—
The one being slandered and mocked was her lifesaver!
Whether it was shielding her from the acid attack or sending Ning Tianshi and the police to the He family, she could never repay Master Qi’s kindness.
She couldn’t just turn a blind eye.
Earlier, Du Jiaming had been taking care of her here, and they had exchanged contact information...
Given Du Jiaming’s deep admiration for Master Qi, there was no way he would just ignore this.
Du Jiaming had just finished reading the story and was about to leave a detailed comment under *The Diary of a Wealthy Family* when a few messages popped up on his phone.
[Yuan Qing: *[screenshot]*]
[Yuan Qing: I’ve seen Qi Yingxue’s reader nickname before—it’s the same as this one.]
Du Jiaming immediately understood.
Ever since becoming a fan of Master Qi, he had taken it upon himself to patrol the comment sections. Whenever he encountered foul-mouthed users, he would report them, so he was quite familiar with some of the accounts that often posted negative reviews.
This “A Tree of Red Plum Blossoms” always left snarky comments but never crossed the line into outright offensive territory, which made people feel frustrated and helpless.
He had always found this user strange, but seeing Yuan Qing’s message suddenly sparked a revelation.
So that’s it!
No wonder “A Tree of Red Plum Blossoms” always took the side of the fake heiress and harbored an inexplicable hostility toward the story’s true heiress.
Those comments really stood out.
Readers usually empathize with the protagonist, but this person clearly identified with the supporting character.
Du Jiaming sneered coldly. That’s it—Song Lin was still worried his fiancée might be mistreated.
If what the story said wasn’t true, Qi Yingxue would have spoken up and shared her grievances long ago. How could she only leave subtle negative reviews?
He immediately contacted Su Rong.
After clinging to Master Qi’s coattails, he had actively exchanged contact details with Su Rong.
Su Rong was a ghost who didn’t need to sleep at night.
He was fully immersed in cultivating ghost arts when his phone began buzzing nonstop.
[Du Jiaming: *[screenshot]*]
[Du Jiaming: Su Butler, this was sent to me by Yuan Qing. I think this suspicion isn’t baseless. You should decide whether to inform the Master.]
[Du Jiaming: If it really is her, she’s such an ungrateful wretch! The novel wasn’t lying—the Master has suffered so much. Sob sob sob.]
[Du Jiaming: The Master truly repays evil with kindness.]
Su Rong’s expression darkened after reading the messages. There were always these pests slandering the Master.
He had to come up with a way to unmask Qi Yingxue’s alternate identity.
While the comment section was ablaze with heated discussions, the storm on Weibo was no less intense.
Before 10 p.m., the comments under Baishui Zhenren’s Weibo account were almost all ridicule and mockery, while Wei Huanyang of the Hengfeng Sect, who had provided the exact address, gained a lot of followers.
Some even claimed they were going to find the girl to prove Wei Huanyang’s fortune-telling was accurate.
After 10 p.m., the new chapter of *The Diary of a Wealthy Family* was posted on Weibo, and many people were left speechless.
When they read the last sentence, most of the fervent crowd had a bucket of cold water poured over their heads, a chill creeping from the soles of their feet all the way through their bodies.
Those with a clear head calmed down.
If Baishui Zhenren hadn’t been mistaken, then what exactly did the people claiming to be the girl’s parents want?
Yet some still shouted loudly.
“Master Wei was doing his fortune-telling before Baishui Zhenren even knew where she was.”
“Hahaha, isn’t it obvious? Baishui Zhenren said herself—she’s just working a part-time job and never even went to university.”
“A literate person can’t even do fortune-telling? Can she even read all the characters in those mystical classics?”
“Come on, seriously? Is there really someone who believes Master Wei over the author of a supernatural novel?”
“If the girl’s really an orphan, do you think Master Wei wouldn’t have noticed?”
Wei Huanyang really hadn’t noticed.
To be precise, it wasn’t that he couldn’t see it—he simply hadn’t looked carefully.
Of course, even if he had seen the “orphaned” sign in her fate, he wouldn’t have cared whether the person asking had ill intentions.
At first, his Weibo comments were filled with praise, but by midnight, strange remarks began to appear.
“Maybe you should take another look?”
“Master Wei, some say the girl’s parents are dead. Maybe we’re doing more harm than good.”
“I’m really worried now. What if something happens to her?”
Wei Huanyang frowned and took a closer look at the “Please, kind-hearted people, help me” avatar. Indeed, the reading showed “parents deceased.”
He was born into...
Favored, talented, and always surrounded by praise—never once questioned.
So of course, the mistake wasn’t his, but that damned Baishui Zhenren’s!
He let out an angry laugh and posted on Weibo:
“Hengfeng Sect Wei Huanyang V: Minors can be adopted.”
Once he said that, the tide of opinion gradually shifted.
“Yeah, if her biological parents are gone, isn’t it normal to have adoptive parents?”
“Exactly, that Baishui Zhenren’s just stirring up trouble.”
Wei Huanyang relished the feeling. With just one sentence, everyone revolved around him, and those who opposed him were quickly silenced.
While he was basking in this atmosphere, Ning Zhi and Chen Feilu had already arrived at the girl’s residence.
It was an old residential complex, the exterior walls weathered and peeling, the facilities outdated, a six-story building with no elevator.
There was barely any security at the entrance, so the two slipped inside easily.
Just as they reached the foot of the stairwell, a short, sharp scream suddenly pierced the night, startling against the darkness.
The scream abruptly stopped. It wasn’t very loud, and other residents behind doors and walls couldn’t hear clearly. If not for Ning Zhi’s keen hearing, it might have been missed.
He hurried upstairs.
Just reaching the second floor, a figure dashed down quickly. Ning Zhi grabbed them sharply as they brushed past, pinning them against the stair railing, and instructed Chen Feilu, “You go up first and check.”
Before Chen Feilu could move, another figure came running down, wearing slippers and holding a personal alarm.
They were stunned to see the group by the railing.
Chen Feilu pointed to the person pinned against the railing and asked, “Hey, miss, are you chasing after him?”
The person being held down wore a baseball cap and a mask, clutching a phone tightly in his hand, whining, “I didn’t do anything! Let me go!”
The girl, hearing this, grabbed a slipper and started smacking him in the face—over ten times—just to vent her anger. Then she yanked off his hat and mask, revealing a plain, unremarkable face.
“Hand over your phone!” she growled fiercely.
The man sobbed as he handed over the phone. “I-I didn’t mean any harm. I just wanted to prove something.”
“Prove what?” the girl sneered. “That you’re ugly and creepy?”
Chen Feilu sighed inwardly: Wow, this girl is impressive!
The girl unlocked the man’s phone. The screen was still on the camera app. She opened the photo gallery—and there, glaring back at her, were pictures of herself: disheveled hair, no makeup, caught at the worst angles!
Absolutely horrifying.
She pulled out her own phone and, ignoring the man’s desperate pleas, immediately called the police.
Only then did she solemnly thank Ning Zhi and Chen Feilu.
“Alright, spill it. What on earth did you want to prove?” the girl said, tapping the man’s face with the sole of her slipper. “What’s so earth-shattering that you’d do something this crazy in the middle of the night?”
The man: “…”
Ning Zhi twisted his arm and said sternly, “Speak!”
“Ow, ow, ow! Okay, okay, I’m talking!”
“There was a post on Weibo—someone said their daughter was missing and asked a fortune teller to find her. The so-called master gave a specific address, and I was curious if it was accurate.”
Chen Feilu sneered, “And what about the photos?”
“I-I just wanted to share my ‘proof’ with my followers—ah—ow!”
“I think you just wanted to ride the hype,” Chen Feilu rolled his eyes. “Disgusting.”
The girl looked suspicious. “What daughter? What fortune telling?”
Chen Feilu said, “Search ‘Bai Shui Zhen Ren’ on Weibo.”
A few minutes later, the girl put down her phone, furious, and spat out a curse word with perfect timing: “Damn!”
The profile picture of the “Please, kind strangers, help me” post was her photo!
“That Wei guy must be crazy! What does this have to do with him?”
Her tone was sharp. “So what are you two doing here?”
“Uh…”
Before Chen Feilu could come up with an explanation, the police arrived.
All four of them went to the police station.
After hearing the whole story, the officers were utterly speechless.
Superstition is one thing, but going to someone’s home just to prove it?
Knocking on doors and taking photos?
If it weren’t for this girl’s bravery, she’d have been terrified.
The girl’s name was Ma Sisi, twenty-four years old, originally from Longtan City. After graduating high school, she left Longtan City without telling anyone and never contacted any acquaintances.
She said, “The person looking for me on Weibo is my blood uncle. I never expected he wouldn’t give up after all these years.”
Police asked, “Do you know why he’s looking for you?”
“I barely graduated high school when he brought someone home and looked at me with this disgusting look, like I was a piece of meat on a chopping block. I already knew Ma Zhi wasn’t a good person and felt something was off. After they left, I took my household registration and ID and ran away, but I don’t know exactly what they wanted.”
The police officers thought to themselves: This girl is really sharp.
Ma Sisi said again, “Now that he knows where I live, he’s definitely going to come after me.”
Just thinking about it made her furious!
Meanwhile, Chen Feilu and Ning Zhi finished taking the statement and immediately contacted Han Mian.
Han Mian said, “Alright, I’ll get in touch with the local police.”
A moment later, based on Ma Sisi’s description, Han Mian learned the rough appearance of the man Ma Zhi had brought back.
Crew cut, thick eyebrows, triangular eyes, hooked nose, a flesh mole on the right cheek, and very thick lips.
He stared intently at the description, feeling like he had seen this person somewhere before.
“Captain Han, isn’t this the accomplice mentioned in the Huang Qifeng case?” a junior officer said in surprise.
Han Mian suddenly realized.
During the investigation of the Huang Qifeng case, Huang Qifeng had indeed confessed to having an accomplice, but that accomplice had only been involved in a few cases of trafficking women before disappearing without a trace.
The police never managed to track him down.
No one expected to find any trace of him in this case.
Everything is interconnected—philosophy does not deceive.
So, could the suspect who once participated in trafficking women be connected to the ghost marriage case?
“Captain Han, Wang Cui confessed that she had secretly imprisoned Yuan Qing and forced her into a ghost marriage with He Chao. Those injuries were caused by her. He Jianshe handles the company’s affairs and is often away from home; he had no idea.”
Han Mian scoffed, “Clever, very clever.”
But no matter how much she tries to talk her way out of it now, it’s meaningless.
Still, why did Wang Cui suddenly confess?
Of course, Wang Cui didn’t want to admit guilt, but she and her husband couldn’t stay in the police station forever—they had to get out to avenge their son.
What she didn’t expect was that the police had already gathered plenty of evidence of their illegal activities from Yuan Qing’s testimony.
Because Yuan Qing was under their control, they acted with impunity in front of her, assuming she wouldn’t dare to reveal anything. So occasionally, they let slip many secrets behind closed doors.
The police worked day and night to intensify their investigation, finally uncovering the He family’s sordid dealings.
Not only were they involved in the ghost marriage trafficking ring, but they were also implicated in human trafficking.
The crimes were unspeakably vile.
The officers on the case all felt a chill run down their spines.
These villains even had accomplices in hospitals who could check the girls’ exact birth times and then calculate their birth charts. For those whose records were too old to access, other methods were used to obtain the information.
Piece by piece, the facts became clear, the evidence irrefutable. When all of this was laid out before He Jianshe and his wife, they were left speechless.
What awaited them was the death penalty.
This case was far-reaching; even the high-end ghost marriage trafficking ring they uncovered in Longjiang City was just the tip of the iceberg.
Where there are high-end operations, there must also be low-end ones.
A degenerate like He Chao could match with a woman like Yuan Qing—someone with extraordinary fortune and striking looks—but ordinary people seeking ghost marriages had to settle for girls of lesser quality, like in the case Qi Zheng encountered.
Unfortunately, Han Mian and his team still haven't found the business chain behind the "low-grade ghost marriage."
The police released information about the He family couple’s case, but many details were kept vague. They only confirmed that Yuan Qing was illegally detained and intentionally harmed, and that the He couple was suspected of trafficking women.
There was no mention of any supernatural occurrences.
Netizens were outraged.
Are these even human beings?!
Just because your son liked someone while he was alive, you force a ghost marriage on her? Where’s your conscience?
They furiously condemned the He couple while sympathizing with the tormented Yuan Qing.
“No wonder Yuan Qing has seemed a bit off these past few years—she’s been so pitiful.”
“Those who called Yuan Qing a jinx, come out and apologize!”
“Exactly, Goddess Yuan is a victim too, yet she bore all the insults.”
“Wishing the goddess peace and happiness from now on.”
“So, will the previously halted drama resume filming?”
Yuan Qing didn’t respond.
She had made up her mind: if the production continued, she would finish the drama, collect her pay, and then leave the entertainment industry.
She wanted to do something more meaningful.
---
Lakeside Villa.
Qi Quan enjoyed a good sleep, then freshened up and changed into comfortable casual clothes. Bathed in the soft morning light, she savored her breakfast.
Handsome men and beautiful women sat on either side of her—a truly pleasing sight.
After the meal, Su Rong reported on the “A Tree of Red Plum Blossoms” incident, suspecting it involved Qi Yingxue. Qi Quan was not surprised.
She had guessed it all along.
She also anticipated that Qi Yingxue’s secret identity would eventually be exposed, but not so quickly—and certainly not by Yuan Qing.
It just goes to show, nothing is set in stone.
“Master, should we take care of this?” Su Rong asked.
Qi Quan mainly wrote to earn longevity; she rarely checked the comment sections and didn’t care much about others’ opinions.
If Su Rong hadn’t brought it up, she might have forgotten about Qi Yingxue altogether.
“Take care of it? What do you have in mind?” she asked.
Su Rong said, “She maliciously slandered you. If we expose her secret identity and let the Qi family know who she really is—”
“She can just use another fake account.”
“...”
Xue Hong, who had been eavesdropping nearby, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and said with a smile, “It’s really simple.”
Su Rong glanced at her.
He used to be the only ghost attendant, the one the Master trusted most. Now there’s another—stronger in ghostly power and able to get closer to the Master thanks to her gender advantage.
He felt a strong sense of threat.
Xue Hong paid no attention to his gaze and said, “A rat hiding in the dark should be brought into the sunlight. How many in the Qi family actually know about this? When she sheds a few fake tears, can twenty-plus years of feelings just be discarded so easily?”
Qi Quan asked with interest, “So?”
“So, let me borrow a few of your guys under your command.”
Qi Quan: Guys under her command?
Did she even have any?
Before long, Du Jiaming, Yang Su, Zhang Chengyan, and Qian Kun were all added to a group chat.
Su Rong was the group owner, and the group was named “Master’s Protection Squad.”
[Qian Kun: What orders does Steward Su have?]
[Du Jiaming: Does the Master have something for us to do?]
[Yang Su: I’m available!]
[Zhang Chengyan: At your service, Master!]
Xue Hong sat beside Su Rong, directing him on what to say.
[Su Rong: It’s not the Master giving orders. I just can’t stand seeing the Master being bullied.]
[Du Jiaming: Got it! It’s about what I told you last night, right?]
[Qian Kun: Huh? What are you hiding from us?]
Su Rong sent a screenshot.
[Yang Su: Uh... I wanted to tag Song Lin here.]
[Zhang Chengyan: Yeah, before he was worried that Qi Yingxue would feel upset reading the novel. And now? Haha.]
[Du Jiaming: What’s the butler Su planning to do? We’ll follow any orders!]
As the team started making their plans, Ling Sheng returned to his room and knocked on the window.
Soon, a little sparrow fluttered down onto the windowsill—round and plump, its feathers glossy and well-groomed.
Ling Sheng gently stroked its tiny head. The sparrow chirped softly, nuzzling straight into his palm.
It absolutely loved the sensation of spiritual energy nourishing its body!
Ling Sheng curved his lips into a slight smile. From the center of his left palm, wisps of black mist began to seep out. The mist swirled slowly at first, then faster and faster, like a miniature whirlwind spinning wildly in a tiny space.
In moments, the black mist condensed into a tiny black bead, about the size of a mung bean. The sparrow easily picked it up in its beak, flapped its wings, and flew out of the lakeside villa.
Inside the main house, Qi Quan, who was practicing cultivation, suddenly opened her eyes.
Outside, the sky was a clear blue, and the round little sparrow disappeared into the horizon.
She propped her chin on her hand, pondering for a moment, then asked the system: [If you find someone doing something bad, what should you do?]
System: [Stop them! Teach them a lesson!]
[What if the one doing bad is Ling Sheng?]
[Impossible!]
[...]
The system, feeling cornered, cautiously asked: [Boss, what did Ling Sheng do?]
Qi Quan smiled: [Nothing much, just childish mischief.]
[That's good then. He's still young, just teach him some more.] The system spoke with a fatherly tone.
Qi Quan: This AI’s obsession with appearances is hopeless.
At the Qi family villa.
Qi Yingxue had gone to bed late last night and was still lying in bed, unable to get up.
Half asleep, she kept hearing a persistent "tap tap tap" sound, as if coming from outside the window.
Annoyed, she got up and pulled aside the curtain.
On the windowsill stood a gray sparrow, tilting its little head to look at her, pecking repeatedly at the window frame with its beak.
Qi Yingxue: "..."
She tapped on the window, trying to scare the sparrow away.
But this sparrow was no ordinary bird—it showed no fear at all. Its shiny black eyes blinked, and it kept pecking at the window.
Qi Yingxue was utterly speechless. She had no choice but to open the window, hoping to physically shoo away this dream-disturbing sparrow.
As soon as the window opened, the sparrow immediately fluttered inside.
Qi Yingxue was stunned.
What kind of sparrow spirit was this?!
She hurriedly grabbed a piece of clothing and waved it around, trying to drive the sparrow out of the room.
The sparrow flew along the ceiling, always just out of reach. Qi Yingxue ran around, gasping for breath.
No good, she needed to call someone to come and chase it away.
Just as she picked up her phone, the sparrow landed on the floor by the bed. Out of her sight, it dropped the tiny black bead it had been holding into the gap between the headboard and the wall.
With a swoosh, it flew out the window.
Qi Yingxue: "..."
After all that commotion, her sleep was completely ruined.
She was heading toward the bathroom when, just as she reached the doorway, her foot suddenly slipped. Her whole body lost control and crashed to the floor, pain forcing a sharp cry from her lips.
Everyone else in the Qi family had already left the house, leaving only the housemaid inside.
Ding Mei was cleaning downstairs when she heard a noise from the second floor. Hesitant, she hurried up and knocked on Qi Yingxue’s door.
“Miss Yingxue?”
Qi Yingxue weakly called out, “Come in and help me up.”
Ding Mei opened the door, surprised to see her fallen without any apparent reason. Her face remained expressionless as she helped her up.
The fall wasn’t serious—just a sharp pain in that moment—but she had mostly recovered by now.
Qi Yingxue let go of Ding Mei’s arm and headed toward the bathroom again.
This time, she didn’t slip.
Seeing she was fine, Ding Mei turned and went back downstairs.
But she hadn’t gone far down the stairs when a piercing scream shattered the quiet, nearly bursting her eardrums.
Ding Mei: “...”
She rushed back upstairs.
Qi Yingxue was crouched on the floor, covering her mouth, toothpaste foam smeared all over her hands, flecked with streaks of fresh blood.
She was utterly helpless.
How could she be so unlucky!
First, she had fallen, and now she’d accidentally nicked her gums while brushing her teeth—pain was unbearable.
Her mouth was filled with the bitter taste of toothpaste mixed with the metallic tang of blood.
Ding Mei cautiously asked, “Do you want me to call the family doctor?”
“...Mm,” Qi Yingxue nodded.
In this situation, Ding Mei really couldn’t do much to help, so she called the doctor.
After a while, Qi Yingxue finished washing up and, dressed in her home clothes, headed downstairs. But just as she was about to step down the last stair, misfortune struck again—her shoe sole slipped, and a sharp pain shot through her ankle. Her body twisted into an awkward position and collapsed onto the cold marble floor with a dull thud.
Qi Yingxue: “...”
Ding Mei: “...”
Well, the family doctor wasn’t enough anymore. It was time to go straight to the hospital.
Qi Yingxue’s left ankle was sprained, swelling high and painful, leaving her unable to walk. Ding Mei had no choice but to carry her to the car.
“Miss Yingxue, maybe you should visit the temple for a blessing?” Ding Mei couldn’t help but suggest.
Since the last time Miss Qi Quan had visited her grandmother, Ding Mei had become a devoted fan of *The Heiress Diaries* and truly believed in Qi Quan’s abilities.
But she knew Miss Yingxue and Miss Qi Quan didn’t get along well, so she didn’t outright mention finding a “master,” instead offering a gentle hint.
She just felt that Miss Yingxue’s string of bad luck so early in the morning was really suspicious.
Qi Yingxue, who had no patience for superstitions, ignored her.
At the hospital, the doctor took an X-ray. Luckily, no bones were broken, but the sprain was severe and required plenty of rest.
On the way home, Qi Yingxue was in a foul mood.
She took a photo of her swollen ankle and sent it to the family group chat, then forwarded it to Song Lin.
After waiting for a while with no response, frustration bubbled up inside her. With no outlet to vent, she opened the Screaming App and browsed through the negative reviews of *The Heiress Diaries*.
Whenever she was in a bad mood, seeing people trash *The Heiress Diaries* always comforted her.
But today, just reading the bad reviews wasn’t enough.
She sneered coldly and tapped into the comment box to start typing.
After just three lines, the car suddenly braked hard. Because she hadn’t fastened her seatbelt in the back seat, her body lurched forward, and at the same time, her phone slipped out of her hand, landing right in Ding Mei’s lap on the front passenger seat.
It was such a coincidence.
Ding Mei lowered her head, and the screen of her phone displayed the comment section under “A Tree of Red Plum Blossoms.”
She was completely stunned.
In the eyes of the fans of *The Diary of the Wealthy Family*, every comment under “A Tree of Red Plum Blossoms” was harsh and abrasive.
Ding Mei was no exception.
Her eyes instinctively scanned the three lines of text—
[To be honest, this story is trash. The writing and plot are terrible. The female lead’s characterization is just ridiculous—either playing the victim nonstop or acting like she’s uneducated and inferior to the adopted daughter. Immature, rude, savage, and what’s with the so-called “Heavenly Master” persona anyway…]
Ding Mei: “…”
She pressed her lips together, about to pretend she hadn’t seen it and hand the phone back to Qi Yingxue, when the driver anxiously said, “The car broke down.”
The car had stalled right in the middle of a busy street, causing a traffic jam.
By chance, a traffic officer was at the intersection and quickly came over, asking, “What happened?”
“The car suddenly died and won’t start,” the driver replied with a worried frown.
It had just been serviced not long ago—what terrible luck!
“Everyone get out of the car and wait for the tow truck,” the officer instructed.
Qi Yingxue retrieved her phone from inside the car, but the screen had already gone dark. She thought Ding Mei hadn’t noticed and let out a sigh of relief.
Ding Mei, phone in hand and wearing a mask, stepped out and helped support her to the roadside.
“Call for another driver from home.”
Ding Mei said, “The other two drivers are with Director Qi and the madam.”
Qi Yingxue: “…”
The sky was gloomy, dark clouds blocking the sun, and a storm seemed imminent. Her mood grew even more restless.
Ding Mei suggested, “Let’s order a ride-share?”
“Okay.”
Qi Yingxue leaned on Ding Mei with one leg supporting her weight. After a string of misfortunes, her anger had reached its breaking point.
She reopened her phone and continued editing her message.
“Qi Yingxue!” Suddenly, a voice nearby called out excitedly, “You’re Qi Yingxue, right?”
...
Qi Yingxue was a rising star over the past two years. She usually took care to stay low-key when out, but today was far from ideal—she was only wearing a mask.
Sharp-eyed fans could recognize their idols even if they turned to dust, let alone just a simple mask.
One fan exclaimed, and soon passersby gathered around.
A celebrity!
Meeting a star in real life was rare, so everyone wanted to get a closer look.
Qi Yingxue’s injured foot made it impossible for her to run.
The crowd grew tighter, and neither Ding Mei nor the driver could hold back the enthusiastic fans. Someone was even live-streaming nearby and rushed over to join the excitement.
In the pushing and shoving, Qi Yingxue stumbled and fell. Her phone slipped out of her hand.
It landed right by the streamer’s feet.
The streamer bent down to pick it up, and the phone’s camera happened to capture the screen of Qi Yingxue’s phone, displaying its contents live.
The chat froze for a moment.
After a while, someone typed:
[Uh…]
[Uh…]
[Uh…]
The live chat viewers lined up with the same reaction.
Qi Yingxue’s emotions snapped instantly.
Her hair fell loose around her face, hands pressing against the ground as she screamed hysterically at the crowd:
“Get away! Get away! Get away!”
Luckily, the traffic officers arrived just in time to disperse the crowd, preventing further harm.
Qi Yingxue broke down in tears.
The speed at which this spread online was staggering.
“Qi Yingxue Breaks Down in Public,” “Popular Young Star Roars and Cries on the Street,” “Qi Yingxue’s True Face Revealed,” “Qi Yingxue’s Sweet Image Shattered”—these topics quickly surged to the top of the trending charts.
Whether it was videos shot by passersby or comments in live streams calling it “A Tree of Red Plum Blossoms,” netizens couldn’t get enough.
Everyone was rushing to the frontlines of gossip and discussion.
“Wow, hasn’t she always had that ethereal fairy image? Gentle, gracious, sweet and lovely—how could she possibly be shouting and crying in public like that?”
“Heh, it’s all just an act.”
“Never thought celebrities read online novels too!”
“That comment sounds a bit malicious, don’t you think? Feels like pure emotional venting. Didn’t expect Qi Yingxue to be like this behind the scenes. I’m done with her.”
“Count me out too.”
“A Tree of Red Plum Blossoms… that nickname sounds so familiar.”
“Maybe you’ve read *The Diary of a Wealthy Family*? Heard the gossip about Bai Shui in real life?”
“No way! *The Diary of a Wealthy Family*?! Qi Yingxue reads it too?”
“I heard from people in the circle that Qi Yingxue is actually a fake heiress. Anyone who’s read *The Diary of a Wealthy Family* knows what that means.”
“No wonder her comments are so vicious.”
When the Qi family found out about the news and returned home, Qi Yingxue had already locked herself in her room, refusing to answer anyone.
Gu Qiao knocked repeatedly but got no response.
“Stop knocking!” Qi Changrong said coldly.
He had already learned the whole story and was filled with anger.
He prided himself on never having treated Qi Yingxue unfairly. Even when their biological daughter came back, nothing in the family changed for Qi Yingxue; if anything, they felt they owed Qi Quan more.
Yet despite all that, she still harbored resentment toward Qi Quan.
On the surface, she was gentle and gracious, but who would have thought she was so sharp behind closed doors?
So, the snide remarks about the fake heiress in *The Diary of a Wealthy Family* were true after all?
Qi Lin frowned deeply, scrolling through the comments from “A Tree of Red Plum Blossoms” chapter by chapter, veins bulging on his arm.
He just couldn’t understand it—he really couldn’t.
Before he finished reading, his phone rang. It was Qi Yuan calling.
Qi Lin answered and put the call on speaker.
“Brother, how’s she doing?” The young voice was a bit hoarse.
Qi Lin said, “You focus on studying in Longjing City. You don’t need to get involved in this.”
After all, this was a matter of morals, not something that would cause serious consequences.
Qi Yuan was silent for a moment before saying, “Brother, I’ve thought a lot about it, but I still don’t quite get it. Even when I was reckless, I knew she had already gotten more than enough compared to Qi Quan. Honestly, the reason I treated Qi Quan that way before was because she told me she was afraid of being abandoned by the family. I just wanted to reassure her.”
But in truth, the family had never wronged her.
The only one they owed was Qi Quan.
What was she really unhappy about?
If she was dissatisfied with *The Diary of a Wealthy Family*, she could have just said so openly. But secretly pulling these stunts? It was really hard to accept.
Gu Qiao and Qi Changrong fell silent after hearing this.
Qi Lin said, “Last time at the hospital, when Qi Quan went to treat you, didn’t you notice what Qi Yingxue said back then?”
“...”
Qi Yuan obviously caught on.
But shattering the lens he’d held for eighteen years was just too difficult.
But when it comes down to it, the ones truly to blame are none other than themselves—they were the ones who pushed Qi Quan away with their own hands.
Qi Yingxue’s situation was like a sharp slap across their faces, a harsh wake-up call.
Three months ago, that cautious girl who had just returned home was forced, by their neglect and indifference, to don a hardened armor and sever ties with them with the coldest expression.
Who else could they blame?
Lakeside Villa.
A little sparrow pecked at some grains on the windowsill, its feathers slightly fluffed, looking relaxed and comfortable.
Ling Sheng finished a set of practice papers, put down his pen, and gazed out the window. After a moment of deep thought, he rose and headed toward the main house.
Inside the east wing, Su Rong was staring blankly at her phone.
The small team members were stuffing themselves with gossip.
[Du Jiaming: What’s going on? We just finalized the plan, and Qi Yingxue’s secret identity got exposed?]
[Yang Su: Who did it?]
[Zhang Chengyan: Probably fate. No coincidence here.]
[Qian Kun: But this fate is even more perfect than our plan.]
[Du Jiaming: Indeed, maybe even heaven couldn’t stand her secretly bullying the Master.]
[Zhang Chengyan: By the way, do you think the Master really didn’t know before?]
[Qian Kun: ……]
[Yang Su: ……]
[Su Rong: The Master has no time to care.]
[Zhang Chengyan: Ah, I meant the Master is broad-minded and noble, totally indifferent to this. I’m not saying the Master did it.]
Su Rong glanced over at Xue Hong.
Xue Hong rolled her eyes. “Do you think I’d bother going out of my way?”
She found it strange too.
It seemed someone had beaten them to it and exposed Qi Yingxue’s secret identity first.
Why?
Putting themselves in their shoes, it was obviously to protect the Master, to prevent him from being hurt.
So, who was the one working behind the scenes?
She didn’t believe in accidents or coincidences. Qi Yingxue’s sudden downfall had to be because she’d gotten involved with something dirty—a streak of bad luck.
Outside the main bedroom, a young man lightly knocked on the door.
Qi Quan paused his training. “Come in.”
The door opened, and the young man stepped onto the soft carpet.
He looked at Qi Quan with bright, sparkling eyes, like a child hoping for praise.
Qi Quan smiled.
Should she praise him for a job well done?
She sat down on the carpet by the floor-to-ceiling window and beckoned him over.
The young man obediently came forward and knelt down. In his clear, transparent eyes, storm clouds were gathering.
But the clouds couldn’t fully block out the sunlight. The stubborn rays pierced through the gloom, casting golden light onto the earth.
She reached out and gently ruffled Ling Sheng’s fine, soft hair.
“Well done.”
