It was a stark contrast to the glamorous image Ling Buyi had always projected to the public. For someone so famous, who had built a career on strength and beauty, it seemed as though she had reached her boiling point. She had been hiding for so long, and now it appeared that she no longer cared whether she was found or not. It was as if she had lost everything she had worked for, everything she had built, and the fear of losing even more had driven her to the edge.
Anna sighed again, the image of Ling Buyi's tear-streaked face flashing in her mind. The terror in her voice had been unmistakable—the fear that she couldn't win this war, the anxiety that her life was slipping through her fingers. Ling Buyi was a woman who looked like she had nothing left to lose, and yet, Anna could sense that there was still a part of her desperately clinging to the hope that she could somehow come out of this alive.
