Chapter 1: Fu Shuhua

The little starlet newly favored by Fu Shuhua is dead.

She died naked, in a state of extreme misery, reportedly tortured to death by several wealthy patrons.

I learned of this news just as I arrived on set.

Several burly men carried the body out on a stretcher. A gust of wind blew, lifting the white sheet covering her face. It revealed a visage frozen in a mask of dying agony, accompanied by the indescribable stench of sulfuric acid.

Her skin, once her greatest source of pride, was covered in bruises and wounds of varying sizes, the blood congealed into a deep, dark purple. It was such a gruesome sight that I only glanced at it once before my stomach began to churn violently.

My throat burned, and it wasn't until my agent, Brother Ji, handed me a glass of water that I managed to steady myself.

The little starlet’s surname was Liang, named Liang Lei. Word had it that she was once a notorious escort in the Northwest circles, having climbed her way up through "sub-rules" (sexual favors). I don't know how she caught Fu Shuhua’s eye, but he had insisted on dumping an S-plus production budget on her, seemingly determined to make her a star at any cost.

Though it was an S-plus project, she was, after all, only the second female lead. My situation was even worse; despite being in the same crew, I was a mere extra who couldn't even secure a role as the third female lead. My only highlight scene had been cut repeatedly by various parties until I was reduced to nothing more than a background prop, entirely dispensable.

As I hunched over to rest, the producer walked over. Seeing me squatting on the ground, he said with disdain, "It’s just one dead person. Throughout history, when have actresses not bled? Jiang Dian, do you really still think you’re that big star everyone fawned over?"

"Change into your costume immediately. I want to see you in character within five minutes, or you can get out!"

Brother Ji, knowing I couldn't handle the smell of blood, felt bad for me and tried to speak up, but he was met with a harsh dressing-down from the producer.

I pulled on Brother Ji’s sleeve and stood up, my face pale as I offered platitudes, mostly saying that my state of mind had been poor lately, that I needed to adjust, and asking him to be the bigger person and not hold it against us.

Once he left, Brother Ji’s eyes turned red, and he wiped away tears as he helped me with my makeup.

He said, "Fu Shuhua is truly heartless. He flips his face as soon as he pleases, not even considering what would happen to you if you were bullied."

After finishing half my makeup, he brightened up again. "His new favorite is dead, so you still have a chance, Dian. If you just humble yourself, apologize to him, maybe you can go back..."

He rambled on, all for my sake.

But I remained silent.

Fu Shuhua was also my former patron—one of the top "second-generation" elites in China. He acted without hesitation, much like his predecessors.

A man like him was destined to be a favorite of the heavens, a world away from someone like me who came from a common background.

Yet, ever since a certain cultural performance, he had brought me along everywhere he went.

Using his resources and connections, I navigated the entertainment industry smoothly. In just two short years, I had gone from an obscure nobody to the ranks of A-list young actresses.

However, such a man is capable of both picking things up and putting them down. Since an argument half a year ago, Fu Shuhua never looked for me again, and from then on, my resources plummeted.

Coupled with the fact that I had offended many people in my early years due to a lack of discretion, others were quick to kick me while I was down. To this day, I am practically invisible in the entertainment circle.

He was only backing this new starlet because I was on this set, hoping to make me jealous.

But I didn't understand why Liang Lei, who had access to more resources from Fu Shuhua than she could spend in several lifetimes, would choose to take such a risk and play these games with low-life patrons.

It was self-destructive; Liang Lei wasn't stupid enough for that. Plus, considering the horrific expression on her face when she died, I felt there was something very suspicious going on.

Brother Ji, unaware of my thoughts, finished my hair and whispered again, "Go and apologize to him, will you?!"

I twitched the corner of my mouth, my face pale.

What he didn't know was that before he discarded me, Fu Shuhua was already on the verge of marriage—to a woman of equal status, the kind everyone in the circle knew about.

Fu Shuhua’s fiancée was also a daughter from the highest social strata. I had seen her from afar once. She had bright, intelligent eyes and great poise, though she wasn't the type Fu Shuhua usually liked.

I was the woman who had stayed by Fu Shuhua’s side the longest. He was surrounded by countless beauties and changed women more often than he changed his clothes. Yet, he had never considered replacing me, likely due to this face of mine.

Fu Shuhua liked women who were vibrant in appearance and gentle in personality. When it came to intimacy, he valued looks above all else.

So, I had driven myself mad trying to cultivate those traits, doing whatever it took to keep him satisfied.

Although Fu Shuhua came from a family with a clean reputation, he was, after all, a man who upheld the principle of "keeping the red flag at home flying while letting the colored flags flutter outside."

He was very skilled at playing with women.

Not just their appearance—he was picky about everything else.

Take Liang Lei, for example; I heard she specifically underwent surgery and spent a fortune buying up the dirt on her past in the Northwest circles just to establish a foothold.

But I can say with certainty that Fu Shuhua never touched her.

He backed Liang Lei in the name of his friends, and everyone knew the reason why.

But there was absolutely no way I could return.

To put it bluntly, a mistress who is more favored than the wife will only make the wife resentful. How would that end for me?

His fiancée might not have had feelings for him, but she saw everything clearly.

If I stayed by his side any longer, I wouldn't even know how I died. So, as soon as I sensed the tide turning, I withdrew.

Furthermore, I glanced vaguely at my sleeves.

The higher up the social ladder you go, the more perverted the games become. My phobia of blood was a scar left over from my time with Fu Shuhua.

Thinking too much caused me to lose track of time. As soon as I reached the camera, I was caught off guard by a slap to the face.

It was struck with full force, and half my face swelled up instantly. The original plan had been to fake the hit, but the provocation in that woman’s eyes told me this was no accident.

The director didn't yell "cut," so no one dared to stop.

I endured the tears and continued to act, during which the other party found various reasons to pick fights, leaving me with many injuries.

By the time I finally finished filming, my face was a wreck.

This face, which I had meticulously cared for to serve Fu Shuhua, now looked inhumanly ugly.

I stared at myself in the mirror, my eyes filled with malice.

But there was nothing I could do. In this circle, without a backer, you are just meat for the dumpling—anyone can step on you.

When we finished, Brother Ji drove me back and brought up the idea of a backer again before leaving. I brushed it off and collapsed onto the hotel bed.

I was only twenty-three; of course, I needed a backer, but I was never going back to Fu Shuhua.

After a whole day of being exposed to cold water and being slapped, I developed a low-grade fever. While drifting in and out of consciousness, I heard a knock at the door.

I opened it, but there wasn't a soul in sight. On the floor lay only a small, exquisite box from a luxury brand.

Thinking it was something Brother Ji had bought to cheer me up, I tore the box open without a second thought.

When I lifted the lid and saw what was inside, my blood instantly froze.

It was... it was a human finger!