Song Weiwei let out a light laugh and shook her head. "I'm much better now, thanks for your concern."
"Mm... I'm here to apologize. I'm sorry. As the person in charge of this competition, I failed to prevent such an accident from happening, and you got hurt so badly. I'm truly sorry."
"Minor accidents like this happen all the time in the entertainment industry. I'm used to it. Don't take it to heart. Besides, my body isn't seriously injured. I can rest for a couple of days and get back to the competition."
"Don't rush the competition for now. Regarding this matter, I've already notified the police to investigate. I'll make sure to find the culprit for you. But the competition will probably be suspended for a few days, so you can rest easy and recover."
"Okay." Song Weiwei smiled and nodded.
From Qiao Yu, she learned that after the incident, An Ruo had immediately locked down the news, ensuring no one leaked it, and insisted the staff stay until the police arrived to investigate.
She stayed calm in the face of trouble, kept a clear head, and handled things without any hesitation. Though she looked young, she had a steady, mature demeanor.
They chatted a bit more until a nurse came in to change Song Weiwei's medication. An Ruo glanced at the time, stood up, and said her goodbyes.
After she left the ward, Qiao Yu finished his phone call and walked in.
"You seem pretty close with her?"
Song Weiwei smiled and thanked the nurse. "She's a really nice person. I like her."
They were silent for a moment, then Qiao Yu let out a heavy sigh, his gaze fixed on her. "You knew Pan Zhiyao was up to something behind the scenes. Why did you insist on going on stage?"
"The championship is mine anyway. What's the harm in letting her vent her frustration?" Song Weiwei leaned against the big pillow, reading a newspaper.
"Nonsense!" Qiao Yu scolded loudly. "You're playing with your life! Do you want to die!?"
Song Weiwei grinned at him cheekily, sticking out her tongue in a playful plea. "Alright, I won't do it again. I promise, last time."
He didn't find it funny, his expression stern. "Mu Yan."
At those two words, Song Weiwei's hand froze. She slowly looked up at him.
"You promised me back then that you wouldn't seek revenge, that you'd start over in a new way. That's the only reason I agreed to let you enter the entertainment industry. And now? Everything you're doing is still about revenge. This time, you're even using your life as a bargaining chip, all to get close to Gu Zhao?"
Song Weiwei, caught off guard, lowered her head and fidgeted with her fingers, not daring to meet his eyes.
"The Qin family has already gotten what they deserved. Stop clinging to the past. Isn't starting a new life better?"
"The weak Mu Yan promised you she wouldn't seek revenge, but I'm Song Weiwei." She patted her pockets, realizing she was wearing a hospital gown. She had a serious smoking addiction.
Qiao Yu pulled a cigarette from his pocket and handed it to her. Song Weiwei lit it, took a dejected drag, and said in a low voice, "The only reason I'm still alive is revenge. If you want me to give that up, you might as well wish me dead."
Just as the man was about to speak, she cut him off coldly: "This life of mine should have ended long ago."
She had crawled out of a pile of corpses, her body covered in severe burns. Qiao Yu had taken her abroad for treatment. Each skin graft surgery was as agonizing as scraping bone. The burns on her face made her terrified to look in the mirror. Those days were truly miserable; she had completely lost the will to live.
Mu Yan had been a pampered child her whole life. The sudden upheaval made every second of living feel like torture. The hatred in her heart was what kept her going through countless surgeries under the knife, transforming her into Song Weiwei.
She was a vengeful woman clawing her way out of hell, a Song Weiwei filled with nothing but hatred.
Qiao Yu had witnessed her entire transformation—a girl who cried herself to sleep every night from the pain of her wounds, gritting her teeth through every skin graft, gradually becoming Song Weiwei through the suffering. She was only sixteen that year...
He didn't want her to live in hatred every day. Since she already had a new face and a new life, why walk down this path of no return?
They faced off for a long time. Qiao Yu knew he couldn't persuade her and let out a deep sigh. "What do you plan to do next?"
"Keep getting closer to him."
...
As night fell, An Ruo walked out of the hospital and felt like someone was following her. She thought about waiting at the entrance, but just as she reached the streetlight, a shadow flashed by, and then a force clamped down on her neck!
The person dragged her from behind toward a dark area. Struggling to breathe, her face flushed red, she desperately clawed at the back of his hand, trying to hurt him enough to break free.
Her mind was still clear, and she could distinctly sense that her attacker was a burly man over six feet tall. The strength gap was too great...
The world spun as the man shoved her to the ground, scattering the contents of her bag. The light was too dim for her to make out his face. In her struggle, she groped for her phone, which had fallen nearby.
An Ruo glanced at it, stretching her arm as far as she could to reach it. She had set up an emergency call shortcut—one press, and it would automatically dial the police.
Just as life and death hung in the balance, the man on top of her suddenly let out a scream like a pig being slaughtered. The pressure on her neck vanished, and as she regained her freedom, she heard Han Chong's voice.
"Madam, are you alright?"
An Ruo's tears spilled out. She wiped them away, her nose stinging as she spoke with a hint of a sob. "I'm fine..."
Han Chong turned around, subdued the burly man in a few moves, and dragged him over like a chicken, tossing him in front of An Ruo.
"Madam, how should we deal with him?"
An Ruo picked up her bag from the ground, racking her brain for who she might have offended recently. Could it be An Qing again?
But wasn't she locked up by Shen Tingfeng?