Chapter 32: Machinations

They’d agreed after marriage to keep their lives separate, so the affair between the investor and Xu Ruoxin was perfectly open and above board.

But lately, something terrible had happened. That “hideously ugly” screenwriter—well, she wasn’t actually ugly at all—couldn’t bear to let go of her marriage to the investor, and now she was backtracking on the divorce agreement.

This mess turned the investor and Xu Ruoxin into a pair of tragic lovers, forever trapped in limbo, unable to truly be together. The ugly writer? Absolutely unforgivable.

The article was sharp, concise, and dripping with raw emotion—so powerful that it instantly struck a chord with netizens across the country. Everyone flooded Nan Xiao’s微博 (Weibo) to curse her.

Her Weibo handle was “Xiaoxiao Wuye”—also her pen name, taken from the line *“萧萧梧叶送寒声”* (“The rustling paulownia leaves carry the chill of autumn”).

In one night, her inbox exploded with hate messages. People called her vile, despicable, a gold-digger who wouldn’t let go of another woman’s man. She was wicked—and pitiful, too.

The article kept hammering home how hideous “Xiaoxiao Wuye” supposedly was. And dozens of strangers sent private messages demanding photos: *“Show us your face! How could someone so ugly even dare compete with a celebrity?”*
*“What kind of face do you have—ten meters wide?”*

Reading those venomous messages, Nan Xiao trembled from head to toe. Her chest felt like it was splitting open with rage.

Just then, Lin Yan called again. Nan Xiao answered, told her she’d seen the posts, and Lin Yan exploded:

“Was it Xu Ruoxin? That bitch? What’s wrong with her? How can she be so shameless!”

Nan Xiao was furious—but still held onto a sliver of reason.

“Ninety-nine percent is her. She threatened me last night. I didn’t think she meant *this*.”

“F***! It really is that slut! Wait here—I’ll dig up proof, and I’ll make her pay!”

“It won’t be easy,” Nan Xiao frowned. “Xu Ruoxin’s smart. She wouldn’t risk this unless she was sure she’d come out clean.”

“What do we do?” Lin Yan asked. “Oh—your real identity hasn’t been exposed, right?”

“No. Not yet.”

She was known in the industry under her pen name. Even though she’d signed contracts under her real name over the years, NDAs protected her privacy. No one dared leak it.

And photos? Impossible. Her private life remained untouched.

“Does Xie Chengyu know about this?” Lin Yan snapped. “He’s completely clean—no dirt on him at all.”

The news about Xie Group investing in *Qin Fei Chronicles* hadn’t been released. And the Xie family’s power? Unthinkable. In China’s business world, they were untouchable—feared by all, challenged by no one.

So even though everyone in the circle knew the “suffering investor” was Xie Chengyu, no one dared speak up.

“I don’t know if he knows,” Nan Xiao said, her voice edged with bitter irony. “Even if he did… what difference would it make?”

Lin Yan paused. Yeah. Even if Xie Chengyu knew, what would he care? He never cared about her anyway.

Her temper flared again. She cursed Xie Chengyu and Xu Ruoxin for ten minutes straight, then said, “I’ll look into it. Maybe I’ll find some trace.”

“Oh, and we need to control the comments. I’ll reach out to people.”

“No need,” Nan Xiao cut in. “I’ll handle it.”

She might not be a big star, but she’d lived long enough in the entertainment world to have a few connections.

But when she tried, she found the cost of comment control was astronomical—thanks to the sudden surge in popularity of Xu Ruoxin’s fanbase. The “Xu Ni Zhenxin” army was overwhelming. She gave up.

There were important scenes to shoot that morning. She decided to finish filming first, then deal with the fallout. So she headed to the set.

When she walked in, everyone stared—at her, with strange, sideways glances. Nan Xiao walked past them calmly.

Back when she was ten and disfigured, she’d endured far worse stares. She’d long since grown numb to judgmental eyes.

“Xiaoxiao Jie,” a lighting technician she got along with approached cautiously. “You really are Mr. Xie’s wife? Is that article true?”

Nan Xiao noticed others had stopped working, ears pricked, listening.

She looked up, spoke in a normal tone:
“We’re married. We’re also getting divorced. But I’m not clinging to Mr. Xie like that article claims. We’re just waiting out the cooling-off period.”

“Oh… oh, okay. I knew that article was nonsense. Xiaoxiao’s such a good person—she’d never do something like that.”

“Who wrote that thing? It’s outrageous.”

Her reputation on set was solid. Dozens of crew members came over to comfort her. A quiet warmth spread through her chest.

Then she saw Xu Ruoxin arrive.

Her eyes turned cold.

She turned to the group. “I’ve got something to attend to.” Then she walked straight to Xu Ruoxin’s trailer.

*Bang!*

No knock. She shoved the door open, spun around, and slammed it shut behind her.

Xu Ruoxin had just put down her bag. She turned sharply at the sound, eyes locking onto Nan Xiao.

“This is your revenge?”

Nan Xiao held up her phone, showing the screen—the list of private messages:

> “Ugly freak, show me your photo~ hahaha, are you so ugly you itch all day? Need a man bad?”
> “Look at your face, ugly girl. Daring to steal Xin Xin’s man? Is your face ten meters wide?”
> “Uglyass, uglyass, uglyass, uglyass, die, die, die, die, die!”

Xu Ruoxin glanced at the screen, then looked away, lips curling in faint mockery.

“These messages aren’t wrong. You’re mad? Did they hit a nerve?”

Nan Xiao stared at her, unblinking.

Then she raised her hand—and slapped Xu Ruoxin hard across the face.

*Crack.*

The sound echoed.

Xu Ruoxin’s head snapped sideways. Her cheek burned. Five red fingerprints bloomed across her skin. She turned back, stunned, staring at Nan Xiao in disbelief.

“You *dare* hit me?”

“*I* hit you!”

“Why the hell should you?”

Now Xu Ruoxin was truly furious.

Her elegant mask shattered. She glared at Nan Xiao, her face twisted with hatred. The red mark made her look even more grotesque.

“All because you wouldn’t let go of Chengyu! If you’d just accepted the divorce, would I be doing this? If you hadn’t played these dirty tricks, would I have done this? If you’re getting roasted online, blame yourself!”

Her trailer had a bug detector—she wasn’t afraid anyone was listening. So in her rage, she shouted it out loud.

Nan Xiao’s face contorted—though you couldn’t see it behind her mask.

“What ‘dirty tricks’? What did I ever do to you? Stop pretending you’re some innocent little dove.”

“You refused to rewrite my script. Then you brought in a stand-in to humiliate me. Isn’t that a conspiracy?”