Chapter Eighty-Five: On-Location Shooting in the Wilderness

Overnight, the Li family became an isolated fortress. The news of Li Yingming, the esteemed eldest son of the Li family, dying suddenly at home sent shockwaves throughout X City. Yet, the killer left no trace behind. After several rounds of police investigations, not even a ghostly shadow could be found. With nowhere to turn, the Li family had no choice but to swallow their grievances in silence.

The death of the most respected young master marked the beginning of the Li family’s decline. Stocks of Li Family Technologies plummeted, funds dwindled, and the family’s once-glittering façade peeled away to reveal the ugliness of its greed and inner strife. Elders fought fiercely among themselves, and rumors spread that shares were being sold off. The towering edifice of the Li family was now filthy and rusted, teetering on the verge of collapse.

At the Li family council, the doors burst open with a thunderous bang, and a group of fully armed bodyguards stormed inside. The trembling elders stared in terror at the man behind the door—resolute, cold, exuding the majesty of a sovereign overlooking the world.

“Huo Lingtian, how dare you!” one old man shouted furiously, but the black muzzles of the guns pointed at him inspired only dread.

“Those who dare touch what’s mine must pay the price,” came the icy voice, final as a hellish judgment. “Sign it, and you’ll keep your lives.”

Tension hung thick in the air as the old men made their last desperate stand. Their life’s work, their legacy—about to be destroyed in an instant! The guns were a naked threat, and facing this elite force, they had no chance of escape—nor any means to resist.

Just then, Huo Lingtian’s phone rang. The man, who had been all frost and ruthlessness, instantly softened, his voice low and sultry. “Qing, what is it?”

“Oh, all right. I’ll come home for dinner soon.” Huo Lingtian’s gaze swept over the Li elders once more, now tinged with lethal ferocity. “I’ll count to three. If your names aren’t on the papers by then, there’s no need to sign at all.”

The tenderness that had bloomed a moment ago vanished like morning dew. The man became a grim reaper, holding their fate in his hands. With tears streaming down their wrinkled faces and hands trembling, the old men signed the Li Family Share Transfer Agreement. Thus, the Li family vanished from X City, and the city’s upper-class circles faced a sweeping reshuffle.

Zhu Xi awoke in a daze, finding herself lying in her own bed. Everything felt surreal, as though last night’s events had been a nightmare. She lifted the covers—her body was marked with unmistakable traces of indulgence. So, last night… it hadn’t been a dream. Li Yingming… was dead? The memory of that terrifying night sent chills through her. Overcome by fear and unable to bear the psychological strain, she crouched on the floor and sobbed uncontrollably.

Through her blurred, tear-filled eyes, she noticed something wrapped in newspaper wedged in the door. Hesitantly, she pulled it out, an ominous feeling prickling her heart, but she could not resist opening it. Scattered over her pale legs were lewd photographs—explicit scenes with various men, nudes, indecent images. The woman in every photo was herself, Zhu Xi. Her hands shook with the urge to destroy this damning evidence, tears the size of peas splattering over the obscene pictures. Whoever sent these didn’t intend to expose her immediately, but to force her out of show business.

Biting her bloodless lips, Zhu Xi realized last night had taught her a harsh lesson—perhaps leaving the entertainment industry was a chance to begin anew.

Clutching the sordid fragments of her past, she finally made up her mind.

The Xiangshan Villa blazed with light, but only Huo Lingtian paced anxiously across the floor. “Location shooting?” he repeated for the umpteenth time.

“Mhm…” Rong Qing, biting into a crisp apple, sat cross-legged on the sofa watching her favorite melodrama. “The script’s got a wilderness survival arc, so the whole crew’s heading into the mountains to film.”

“At this time of year, there are too many mosquitoes, it’s cold at night and hot at noon, the weather’s all over the place. What if you get bitten by wild animals or insects? It’s too dangerous—I can’t relax!” Huo Lingtian had never been so on edge over anyone. He worried about every detail of Rong Qing’s life as if she were more precious than himself. How could he rest easy? If something happened on set—floods, landslides, or even just faulty props—he’d bang his head against the wall in regret!

“Lingtian, it’s all right. We’re going to a government-sanctioned mountain area—there’s absolutely no danger.” Seeing him frown, Rong Qing leaned over and kissed his lips to reassure him. “I’ll be good. I won’t make you worry.”

Her pitiful, teary gaze made Huo Lingtian’s heart ache with tenderness. “If you don’t eat or sleep well, I’ll feel sorry for you. I’ve worked so hard to plump you up, and now you’ll just lose it all again.”

To be fair, Rong Qing’s weight had always been stable—her figure was curvy and toned, with not an ounce of excess fat. But after these months, when she stepped on the scale—

“Aah!” Her shrill scream echoed from the gym. She stared at the two extra pounds around her waist, face dark with determination. She resolved to start a diet, but every day, Huo Lingtian’s doting care left her no chance to slim down.

Trying to hide her delight, Rong Qing thought, “Finally, no one to stop me dieting!” With a serious face, she promised, “I’ll eat and sleep well and call you every day.”

Huo Lingtian sighed in defeat, his most important and final plea: “I’ll miss you. One taste, and I’m addicted—I can’t quit you.”

The next day, Rong Qing appeared at the airport in a white jumpsuit and oversized sunglasses, her long black hair tied back. Yan Lin, her full-time assistant, was there to help, dutifully hauling the luggage Huo Lingtian had handed over with utmost solemnity. The vein on his forehead never stopped throbbing—all this for a week-long trip, when others packed light for a month. It was as if half the villa’s possessions were being loaded onto the plane. Yan Lin felt the pressure acutely…

Rong Qing herself was helpless—her luggage was the heaviest in the whole crew. Not because she was being a diva, but because she’d already pared down her “supplies” several times at Huo Lingtian’s insistence, finally reducing them to two large suitcases only when he looked as if he might collapse. He even personally saw her off at the airport, watching the plane until it safely took off. The leader of the Night Clan truly treasured her as if she were a priceless gem.

The crew arrived in the mountains, lodging in a humble farmhouse. Conditions were basic—only a simple outdoor shower in the courtyard for summer. After a day’s filming, their clothes stuck to their sweaty bodies, uncomfortable and damp. But caution was necessary; a careless bath might lead to scandalous images of a naked starlet flooding the internet. No one underestimated the power of the country’s paparazzi.

Rong Qing locked her valuables in her suitcase. The temperature difference in the mountains was severe; the midday sun scorched, while nights brought a biting chill. Still, the rustic charm of the farmhouse and the golden grains of the autumn harvest provided a comforting, honest atmosphere.

The crew quickly set up tents, ready to shoot as soon as possible and maximize productivity. That afternoon, filming began.

In “Miss Y’s Transformation,” Yang Qingqing’s hometown was a poor but honest mountain village. When she returned home, the place she once looked down on brimmed with warmth and intimacy. The villagers’ care and their handling of her parents’ affairs filled this girl—who’d tasted the bitterness of life—with warmth and gratitude.

Gazing at the endless fields of wheat and the bounty of autumn, her previously depressed heart was instantly soothed. Compared to the city’s noise and glamour, the mountains felt more genuine and nostalgic.

“So, what are your plans next?” asked a young man, his eyes sharing the same view. Returning to her hometown had broadened his heart as well. In just a few days, Yang Qingqing had risen from her lowest point—collapsed in the rain—to a quiet, proud strength. Her transformation was both surprising and bittersweet.

She was deeply grateful to this young man, who had rescued her from the brink and brought her home. Such a debt could never be repaid. Yang Qingqing collected herself and said calmly, “My dream is to build a prosperous road from my hometown to the city. In recent years, the fruit trees planted here can’t reach the outside world. I want to change that, to make a thriving, healthy mountain road.” But for now, she had to pick herself up where she fell—her unfinished studies and ambitions still awaited her in the city.

Before leaving, Yang Qingqing glanced at the pure blue sky above her hometown. “Wait for me… I will soar.”

“Cut!” Director Fang Ziqing frowned slightly. The scene was acceptable, but Li Junming’s performance felt too forced, lacking authenticity—unacceptable for his demanding standards.

Rong Qing’s face was flushed from the sun, her nose beaded with sweat. The sweltering midday heat made the actors’ dedication all the more admirable. She approached the director. “What’s wrong?”

Fang Ziqing replayed the footage. Rong Qing’s expression darkened as she watched. She uttered two words: “Reshoot!” Turning back toward the set, she was determined not to let the heat compromise her performance.

Li Junming’s fists clenched in frustration at the prospect of another take, resentment etched across his face.

The scene had been shot five times before the director finally called it done. Yet Li Junming’s eyes burned with enmity and disdain. Why did Yu Lin and Rong Qing nail their scenes in one take, while he was forced to redo his? He was a leading man at Prosperity Entertainment—Yu Lin only had Rong Qing backing her up!

As night fell, the mountain chill set in. Even with all her preparations, Rong Qing felt the cold bite through her. The house, without air conditioning, felt like an icebox, the wind seeping through every crack. On the very first day, she fell victim to the elements—sniffling and crying into her quilt, her throat burning…

She’d caught a cold.