Chapter 5

Outside the intensive care unit of Renhe Hospital, Lin Xiaoyu stared at the silver USB drive in her hand, her fingertips cold. The hallway TV was playing the morning news: “Xu Shichang, chairman of Xingyao Media, is under police control for multiple cases of sexual assault and extortion. Several of his artists are under investigation…”

The hospital door opened slightly, and Yang Xue walked out, her eyes swollen. “He’s awake, but the doctor says he shouldn’t talk for too long.”

Zhou Ziyu was sitting up on the hospital bed, his face as pale as paper, with monitoring equipment still attached to his wrist. Upon seeing Lin Xiaoyu, he gave her a slight nod, signaling for her to sit.

“Xu Ya is still alive,” Lin Xiaoyu got straight to the point. “Where is she?”

Zhou Ziyu’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. “How do you know?”

“You mentioned ‘hospital’ before you passed out. And…” Lin Xiaoyu held up the silver USB drive. “There’s an encrypted folder inside, created the night before last. The password is Xu Ya’s father’s death anniversary.”

Zhou Ziyu closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple moving. “She’s on the third-floor VIP ward, using an alias. The bullet grazed her heart, almost…” His voice trailed off.

“How long did you plan this?”

“Since the day she found out Xu Shichang killed her father.” Zhou Ziyu opened his eyes, his gaze terrifyingly clear. “Fifteen years of preparation, three years of getting close to the tiger’s den. I’m her last chess piece.”

Lin Xiaoyu recalled the girl from the photo, coldly observing everything. “Why didn’t you call the police?”

“We tried.” Zhou Ziyu gave a bitter smile. “The first police officer took Xu Shichang’s money; the second one died in a car accident; the third one… received my ‘private videos’ along with other artists.” He struggled to sit up. “What’s on the USB drive?”

Lin Xiaoyu plugged it into her laptop. “In addition to what we already know, there’s a ‘VIP list.’” The screen lit up, displaying a detailed table—names, positions, participation dates, and special preferences… many of them were high-profile figures in politics and business.

Zhou Ziyu sucked in a sharp breath. “More than we imagined…”

“And there’s this.” Lin Xiaoyu opened a video. On screen, Xu Shichang was talking to a man in a white lab coat. “The new batch will arrive on Wednesday, replacing clorazepate with fluphenazine. It’ll be easier to control…”

“Is he using drugs to control the artists?” Lin Xiaoyu’s voice trembled.

“Not just controlling them.” Zhou Ziyu pulled open the collar of his hospital gown, revealing a strange scar below his collarbone. “Chip implantation, location tracking. Xu Ya risked removing mine and Yang Xue’s, but there are still dozens of other artists…”

Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. The door was pushed open, and Yang Xue rushed in. “Xu Shichang posted bail! He just held a press conference and said he’s going to expose the ‘true faces’ of all the involved artists!”

The TV switched to the conference scene. Xu Shichang, dressed in a suit, appeared with an expression of indignation. “I’ve been framed… Those so-called ‘evidences’ are all forged… The real victim is me…” He suddenly raised his voice. “Tomorrow at noon, I will release the full video of Zhou Ziyu and other artists voluntarily participating in the parties, so everyone can see who the real devil is!”

Zhou Ziyu’s face turned pale. “He’s bluffing… once those videos are released, too many people will be implicated…”

“No, he will do it,” a weak but determined voice came from the door. Xu Ya was sitting in a wheelchair, pushed by a nurse into the room. She had lost more weight since Lin Xiaoyu last saw her. Her left shoulder was heavily bandaged, but her eyes were strikingly bright.

“Xu Shichang never bluffs.” Xu Ya gestured for the nurse to leave. “He’s threatening those ‘VIPs’ to keep him out.”

Lin Xiaoyu noticed Zhou Ziyu’s gaze on Xu Ya—it wasn’t the gaze of a cousin, but one filled with admiration, sorrow, and some deeper emotion.

“What do we do now?” Yang Xue was pacing frantically. “Once those videos are released, Ziyu-ge is finished!”
Xu Ya struggled to pull an envelope from the side pocket of her wheelchair. “This is from Reporter Li Yan. Xu Shichang’s Swiss account transactions, monthly fixed transfers to a certain school…” She coughed a few times. “The school where his son attends.”

Lin Xiaoyu suddenly understood. “You’re going to use his son to threaten him?”

“No.” Xu Ya’s eyes were icy. “I want him to know that I’ve already contacted the Swiss Child Protection Organization. If he dares to release a video, his son will see all the ‘performances’ about his father.”

Zhou Ziyu suddenly looked up. “Ya-jie, you said you wouldn’t harm that child…”

“I lied.” Xu Ya said calmly. “Just like I lied to Xu Shichang, to you, to everyone.” She turned to Lin Xiaoyu. “Sorry for involving you, but I need an outsider, someone Xu Shichang can’t trace.”

Lin Xiaoyu remembered the “chance encounter” in the back alley of the film set. “You were targeting me from the beginning?”

“I noticed you when you were in the university drama club performing A Doll’s House,” Xu Ya smiled. “That kind of anger and awakening… exactly what this plan needed.”

Suddenly, the TV interrupted with breaking news: “Outside Xingyao Media Building, Xu Shichang was taken into police custody again. Reporters on-site say they received more severe criminal evidence reports.”

Xu Ya exhaled in relief. “Li Yan has taken action.” She handed Lin Xiaoyu a business card. “He wants to meet you regarding the reporting rights to those pieces of evidence.”

Lin Xiaoyu didn’t take it. “What about the victims… their privacy?”

The room fell silent. Zhou Ziyu and Xu Ya exchanged a look.

“Do you have a better suggestion?” Xu Ya asked.

Lin Xiaoyu opened her laptop and brought up an edited list. “We can expose Xu Shichang and those ‘VIPs’ for their crimes, but withhold the victims’ identities. The video can only be submitted as evidence to the police, not publicly released.”

“The media won’t be satisfied with this level of exposure,” Xu Ya frowned.

“Then we find willing media outlets.” Lin Xiaoyu looked her straight in the eye. “Li Yan from Legal Weekly, or… more authoritative official channels.”

Xu Ya suddenly laughed. “Zhou Ziyu was right. You’re definitely different.” She turned to Zhou Ziyu. “What do you think?”

Zhou Ziyu’s gaze fell on Lin Xiaoyu’s face. “I believe her.”

Three days later, Legal Weekly published an in-depth investigative report titled The Fall of the Dark Empire of Xingyao, withholding all victims’ names but detailing the criminal network of Xu Shichang and his accomplices. On the same day, the police reported that 12 political and business figures involved in the case had been taken into custody.

Lin Xiaoyu stood by the window of the newsroom, looking at the protestors holding signs reading “The entertainment industry needs to be purified” outside. Her phone rang, it was Su Man: “Xiaoyu! Entertainment Weekly wants to hire you as an investigative reporter, starting salary 20,000 yuan a month!”

“Please reject it for me,” Lin Xiaoyu said softly. “I’ve already agreed to join Li Yan’s team.”

After hanging up, she opened her email. The first message at the top was from “Zhou Ziyu,” with only a few short lines:

“Thank you for protecting their names. I’m temporarily leaving the entertainment industry for treatment, and Yang Xue is accompanying me. Xu Ya is preparing a civil lawsuit against Xu Shichang. I’d like to see you before I leave. —Z”

The attachment was two photos of flight tickets, destination Zurich, Switzerland, for tomorrow.

Lin Xiaoyu replied: “Safe travels. Let’s keep in touch.”

After sending, she clicked on another new email—this one from Xu Ya’s law firm, titled Proposal for Establishing an Artist Rights Protection Fund.

Outside the window, the sunlight broke through the clouds, shining on the protestors’ signs, on which a broken crown was drawn with the words: “No one should be a slave in the entertainment industry.”

Lin Xiaoyu closed her computer, grabbed her backpack, and walked out of the newsroom. As she passed through the lobby, the TV was airing a statement from Zhou Ziyu’s studio: “… Mr. Zhou Ziyu will indefinitely suspend his entertainment activities to cooperate with the police investigation and receive professional treatment…”

Stepping out of the building, the early summer wind brushed her face. Lin Xiaoyu took a deep breath, pulled out her phone, and took a photo of the city street under the sunlight. She posted it on her social media, which had been silent for days, with only two words in the caption:

“New life.”

[The End]