Chapter 21: It’s All Your Fault

After Qin Xiao and his entourage left, the atmosphere on set relaxed significantly.

Only Ren Bingxue remained unhappy, having lost a golden opportunity. Though she harbored resentment toward Su Ling, she was smart enough not to take it out on her.

The public uproar over the earlier controversy hadn’t fully subsided. Despite official statements from both Ren Bingxue and her team clarifying the situation, many netizens still believed she had been wronged and then threatened. They rallied behind her, expressing their outrage.

Ren Bingxue’s fans vowed to see for themselves who this “Jiuli” character really was when the drama aired. Fortunately, their comments were quickly deleted, preventing further escalation.

For Su Ling, these days on set were some of the happiest and most peaceful times since her rebirth.

With Qin Xiao no longer pestering her, she could focus on honing her acting skills alongside her seniors.

One evening, Qin Xiao sent her a text saying he’d changed his mind about the gift and wanted to deliver it in person. Since Su Ling didn’t remember the incident at all, she paid little attention to the message and didn’t reply.

Meanwhile, Qin Xiao was preoccupied with his own troubles. The beating he received from Chu Zhen wasn’t for nothing—he had been overwhelmed with damage control for quite some time.

During this period, Su Ling called home a few times. Her grandmother’s health was improving, and upon hearing that Su Ling was filming, she simply encouraged her to work hard.

Su Ling hesitated several times but ultimately held back from sharing her worries.

One call was answered by Ni Haoyan. She casually asked him which major he had chosen.

Ni Haoyan’s voice had grown deeper. He countered with a question: “What do you hope I’ll choose?” His exam results were excellent, giving him nearly unlimited options for schools and majors.

She smiled. “It’s your decision. You should pick something you like.”

He murmured, “My decision…” After a pause, he told her, “I chose computer science.”

This field was cutting-edge, and Su Ling genuinely felt happy for him. Wasn’t this far better than his fate in her past life?

At least it was a path he enjoyed.

After a moment of contemplation, Su Ling brought up another concern: “Ni Haoyan, has Uncle Ni been coming home late recently?”

Ni Haoyan’s tone sharpened, as if sensing danger. “Why are you asking?”

Su Ling couldn’t possibly tell him about the two million yuan gambling debt, so she said, “I’m worried he might be overworking himself.”

Ni Haoyan paused before replying, “No.”

Su Ling let out a sigh of relief.

But Ni Haoyan narrowed his eyes. He had lied to her. Lately, Ni Liguo’s movements had indeed been irregular—there were times when he disappeared for days on end. While Tian Shuyun and Ni Jianan believed his claims of working overtime, Ni Haoyan did not.

He suspected that Ni Liguo was having an affair.

However, this was something he would investigate on his own. There was no need to involve Su Ling.

By early August, halfway through filming the TV series, Su Ling began to feel uneasy. The weather was growing hotter, and after nearly two months on set, she had built good relationships with the crew. Everyone knew that while this young girl wasn’t particularly talkative, she worked hard, unafraid of the heat or hardship. When it came to acting, her talent shone through—she rarely needed retakes, displaying an innate sense of artistry. Director Wen even praised her as the most hassle-free rookie actor he’d ever encountered.

Filming period dramas in sweltering heat often left Su Ling drenched in sweat.

Her fair skin, thanks to good genes, resisted tanning easily.

Yet, as time passed, her unease grew stronger. This intense feeling convinced her that it wasn’t just the weather causing her discomfort. Su Ling began to wonder if subtle changes were occurring around her.

For instance, a year later, Yun Bu would fall from a wire rigging accident. And what about Uncle Ni’s gambling debts? Could they happen sooner than expected?

The mere thought of these possibilities sent chills down her spine.

Su Ling immediately called Yun Bu. Having finished filming, Yun Bu had already returned to school. With an ice pop in her mouth, she mumbled vaguely to Su Ling, “No one’s approached me about roles. I got lucky last time—how could anyone ask me again?”

Su Ling breathed a sigh of relief and reminded her, “If anyone does, try to stick to modern dramas, okay?”

“Why?”

“The wire rigs are too dangerous… I heard about an actress who got hurt.”

Yun Bu waved dismissively, carefree as ever. “How rare is that?”

Su Ling fell silent. Yes, how rare was it? Yet Yun Bu had been the unfortunate exception. In her past life, by the time Su Ling learned of Yun Bu’s accident, her body had already been buried.

Yun Bu was stubborn, refusing to shed tears until forced into a corner. Su Ling knew there was no point in arguing further. She could only keep an eye out for her.

At this moment, Su Ling suddenly realized what she lacked! She had been too passive, rarely taking initiative. Ni Haoyan had said everything was fine, so she had believed him.

What if Uncle Ni had already begun spiraling downward? Then she would have missed her chance.

Su Ling wanted to return home, but she couldn’t leave the set. Thankfully, during the hottest part of mid-August, the production team granted a two-day break before resuming filming.

The TV series consisted of 30 episodes, and Su Ling’s total compensation was 800,000 yuan. Compared to Wan Baibai and others, it wasn’t much, but Su Ling considered it substantial.

By now, she had already received 300,000 yuan, with the remaining 500,000 to be paid upon completion. Without hesitation, she returned to L City that same day.

Ni Jiannan opened the door for her. As usual, she strutted like a haughty rooster, sniffing disdainfully, “You actually have the nerve to come back? Weren’t you so impressive last time? How dare you hit…”

Su Ling frowned. “I’m just here to see Uncle Ni. I won’t stay long.” Burdened with worry, she ignored Ni Jiannan’s attitude, changed her shoes, and entered the house. She immediately spotted a man watching TV on the sofa.

Ni Liguo stared blankly at the screen, though his mind seemed elsewhere. The football channel was on, yet he showed no reaction to any goals scored. His eyes betrayed panic and anxiety. Su Ling’s heart sank. “Uncle Ni?”

Startled, Ni Liguo exclaimed, “Su Ling? Why are you back?”

Su Ling decided not to beat around the bush. “Have you been associating with bad people? Did you borrow money from them?”

Ni Liguo’s face visibly changed.

“How dare you accuse me of such nonsense!”

His reaction wasn’t one of confusion but rather guilt and indignation at being exposed. Gamblers always believe they’ll win back their losses next time. Clenching her teeth, Su Ling demanded, “How much do you owe?” A strange sense of hatred welled up within her. She had endured humiliation, sacrificed herself, and even broken her leg, dying alone in the quiet night. Yet here they were, alive and squandering everything.

She realized she wasn’t devoid of anger—it was just that prolonged sorrow, coupled with no one to comfort her, had made her accustomed to enduring silently.

Ni Liguo, once timid, now glared at her with bulging eyes. “You’ve gone too far, Su Ling! I’m your uncle!”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she stood firm, unyielding. “How much do you owe?”

Ni Haoyan, wearing a basketball jersey, walked in just as he heard her question. He tossed aside his ball, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “How much? He owes 800,000 yuan—a real achievement.”

The cold fury in the young man’s eyes pierced Ni Liguo. “Why are you looking at me? Didn’t you tell me not to say anything? You knew the family would fall apart—you shouldn’t have done such reckless things.”

Ni Liguo’s face turned purple with rage. Ni Haoyan averted his gaze, suddenly feeling unbearable shame knowing Su Ling had witnessed everything. It was as if their family had become maggots crawling out of rotting filth, each member deteriorating further.

After learning about Ni Liguo’s massive gambling debt a few days ago, Ni Haoyan had experienced confusion, pain, and considered solutions. But now, he made a decisive move, opening the door. “Su Ling, go. Don’t come back to our house.”

Before Su Ling could react, a figure leaning on crutches entered through the doorway.

Grandma, dressed in floral clothing, placed her passbook on the coffee table. Her wrinkled face remained eerily calm. “Call Shuyun back. We need to explain everything clearly.”

Su Ling hurried to support her grandmother. “Why did you leave the hospital?”

“It’s fine. If I hadn’t returned, this family would have fallen apart. I don’t have many years left anyway—all my savings are here. Ni Liguo, take it.”

Ni Liguo finally sensed the impending storm.

When Tian Shuyun returned, she cried and screamed, vowing to kill the useless Ni Liguo. Every penny in the household had been secretly taken by him. Aside from that, he still owed 800,000 yuan. Grandma’s passbook only contained 70,000 yuan—nowhere near enough to repay the debt.

Watching the chaos unfold, Su Ling felt a deep sense of desolation and sorrow.

Once Tian Shuyun exhausted herself from yelling, she turned her attention to Su Ling.

At nineteen, Su Ling’s features were pure and innocent, like a budding flower. Tian Shuyun lunged at her. “Xiao Ling, surely you have a solution? Last time, you managed to get money for Mom’s surgery. Aren’t you acting now? Actors earn well, right? Just save us! Surely we can’t let your uncle lose a hand over gambling debts?”

The 2 million yuan debt had yet to reach its full amount—at this point, it was only 800,000—but every word still sought to drain her dry.

800,000 yuan was her entire acting fee.

Part of it was meant to repay Qin Xiao, and part was for Grandma’s retirement. Yet they were once again pushing her to the edge of the cliff.

Su Ling felt her fingers grow icy. Even in the sweltering August night of L City, she felt weary. This was an insatiable abyss.

Shaking her head, Su Ling said, “I don’t have it. Even if I did, I wouldn’t give it.” She wouldn’t sell herself to Qin Xiao for their sake. Supporting Grandma, she said, “Let’s go.”

Grandma closed her eyes, her voice almost lifeless. “Lingling, give it to them.”

Su Ling looked at her grandmother in disbelief. Tears welled up in the elderly woman’s eyes. “After Qiaoqiao died, Ni Liguo was my only son.” Qiaoqiao was Yu Qiao, Su Ling’s mother.

Su Ling’s heart felt frozen over. She wasn’t a soulless ATM; she was flesh and blood.

She could be selfish, feel pain, experience warmth and cold, and suffer heartbreak.

From the age of four, she had learned to be sensible and obedient, behaving better than all the other children. She never cried or threw tantrums, diligently earning every scholarship, enduring scorching summers while filming.

Crouching down, she choked out, “I don’t want to.” She simply wanted to live—live with dignity. She couldn’t continue supporting Uncle Ni and his family. They were an endless pit. Uncle Ni gambled recklessly, believing he’d win back his losses, accumulating more debts along the way. Ni Jiannan was equally insatiable. They would forever demand from her—or directly approach Qin Xiao.

While she acted, Uncle Ni quietly gambled. There was no opportunity to reverse this spiral. She couldn’t prevent it—it was like trying to cure their insatiable greed.

As long as they discovered her ability to make money, it wouldn’t stop at 800,000 yuan.

Grandma’s frail hand rested on her hair, silent. The pain was palpable.

Su Ling could sever ties, but Grandma couldn’t.

Tian Shuyun yanked Su Ling up and searched her belongings. “Mom already said it. How can you be so heartless?”

Su Ling’s eyes reddened. She shoved Tian Shuyun’s hand away. “I said I don’t want to!” At only nineteen, burdened across two lifetimes, she felt crushed under the weight.

Biting her lip, she brushed past Ni Haoyan and walked out.

The boy’s expression remained stoic. He still held the door open for her, echoing his earlier words—”Su Ling, go.”

Outside, waves of hot air hit her. The cicadas buzzed incessantly in the August night.

The residential complex’s winding paths were dimly lit by lampposts. She turned her back on the burdens of two lifetimes, desperate to escape the suffocating shackles.

Yet, she still felt weighed down. What about Grandma? What would happen to her? She felt utterly alone, as if she no longer had any family.

Overwhelmed with sorrow, Su Ling finally broke down. Once out of sight, she collapsed by the flower bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

Qin Xiao, drenched in sweat, found her like this after searching for two hours. Seeing her so distraught made him uneasy. “Su Ling.”

She cried bitterly, oblivious to who was beside her. She didn’t care anymore—about anyone or anything.

Her clothes were smeared with mud, and her cries drew the attention of ground-floor residents. Heads peeked out to watch the spectacle. Qin Xiao’s temper flared. “Keep watching, and I’ll fucking kill you!”

The windows slammed shut.

Qin Xiao crouched down, heedless of her willingness, and scooped her up, carrying her outside.

Struggling futilely, she pounded her fist against his chest, tears streaming down her face. “It’s all your fault! It’s all because of you!”

He understood none of it, but his voice softened nonetheless. “My fault, my fault. Blame me.”

She sobbed, gasping for breath. Overwhelmed with sadness, she hated that someone like him kept showing up. She tried hitting him but ended up hurting her own hand. She felt utterly useless.

Qin Xiao, unfamiliar with the complexities of human emotions, didn’t know how to console her. He simply thought she looked beautiful even in tears. Her fragility stirred something tender in him. Smiling, he said, “Why cry? Whoever bullied you, I’ll kill them, alright?”

Su Ling felt even worse. One of the culprits had the audacity to say such words?