Chapter 123: Unyielding Resolve

After chatting with the system, Mo Shu had hoped to focus wholeheartedly on filming the show, but the outcome was far from satisfactory. The long-planned “Cloud Peak Speed Descent Race” suddenly faced the risk of cancellation.

Frustrated, Mo Shu left the restroom only to notice that something seemed amiss with the beautiful Lin. Approaching her, he was shocked to find that the famous star had twisted her ankle.

It likely happened while Lin was waiting for Mo Shu, ambushed by the dark legion formed by other guests. Mo Shu felt a wave of unease—why did such misfortunes always seem to fall upon him, a relentless string of bad luck?

Lin looked seriously hurt, slumped on the ground, clutching her ankle tightly, brows furrowed, cold sweat dripping down her face. Li Dai, Wang Liang, Wu Tianqi, and Sun Mina crouched beside her, their expressions filled with remorse.

A group of staff bustled about, some calling medical personnel, others reporting the incident to the show’s leadership via walkie-talkie.

Mo Shu squeezed himself a spot nearby, observing Lin’s ankle. “Can you still move it?” he asked.

“I can, but it hurts badly,” Lin gritted through the pain.

“It doesn’t seem like the bone’s broken. Rest should ease the pain,” Li Dai added.

Mo Shu felt uncertain. “Better safe than sorry. Maybe she should go to the hospital?”

Li Dai, a gymnast accustomed to sprains, was confident, but Mo Shu worried about Lin’s well-being—she was a delicate celebrity, likely more fragile.

Looking around, Mo Shu wondered why medical help was slow to arrive; in a racing arena, such delays in emergency care could spell disaster.

“Mo Shu, don’t worry. I think I can keep filming,” Lin said, trying to persuade him despite her pain.

“Please don’t. I’m afraid you won’t even be able to stand,” Mo Shu said, secretly hoping to find a way out of the show.

His mind wasn’t really on the reality show anymore. He longed to talk to Wang Yu or investigate the culprit behind the death of the racing legend, Ajie. He needed to understand who this enemy was and how much of a threat they posed.

Yet, Mo Shu had no good excuse to quit filming outright; simply walking away wouldn’t do.

If Lin went to the hospital for treatment, the Shadow Team would be short-handed, and since some tasks required partners, Mo Shu would have a solid reason to withdraw.

But Lin was adamant; she believed a rest would suffice and firmly refused hospital treatment.

Sighing, Mo Shu said, “Why insist on this, senior? Your health matters most.”

Lin forced a smile. “I really think I’m fine. Besides, Li Dai checked and said it’s nothing serious.”

“That’s different. He’s an athlete; your constitution isn’t comparable,” Mo Shu persisted.

“Where did you get the idea that my constitution is weak?” Lin challenged, unyielding.

Her words caught Mo Shu off guard; his little plan seemed to be failing.

Seeing Mo Shu’s troubled expression, Lin said softly, “I can tell you have something weighing on your mind.”

Mo Shu tensed but admired her perceptiveness, so he feigned calm and said nothing.

“Do you know why I’m so determined to keep filming?” Lin asked.

“Because you’re a strong-willed person?” Mo Shu guessed.

“No, not just strong-willed, but persistent. My achievements today are thanks to that attitude.” Her voice lowered, as if not wanting others to overhear.

Mo Shu thought deeply before replying, “Senior, you probably don’t know about the trouble I’m facing. It’s quite complicated.”

Lin smiled gently. “Mo Shu, I only shared those lofty words because I see your kind heart. Don’t mind my tendency to play mentor. As for your problem, I may not know or have the right to know, but when you go home, look me up online. See how many rumors, scandals, even malicious slanders surround me. Some of the terms used are utterly unbearable.”

“At one time, I was mercilessly attacked by unscrupulous media and trolls online. The insults came in torrents. I lost sleep, my hair fell out in clumps. I shut myself away for days, sinking into depression. I even thought about quitting the entertainment industry, and at a dark moment, contemplated ending it all.”

“But in the end, I persisted. Look at me now—aren’t I doing well?”

Lin’s words warmed Mo Shu’s heart.

Since Zhang Aimin left the team, no senior had ever spoken to Mo Shu with such heartfelt understanding.

True, Wang Yu, Wang Yining, and others had supported and encouraged him in critical moments, but they were close to his age.

Most of the time, the racing team’s decisions, competition plans, and future developments rested heavily on Mo Shu’s shoulders alone.

His path in racing hadn’t been the hardest, but it was certainly grueling. One problem after another, one worry leading to more worries—Mo Shu felt weary.

Lost in thought, Mo Shu suddenly felt Lin tug his sleeve. He looked up to see her, disregarding her injured ankle, unsteadily standing.

The actress wore her signature charming smile. “The pain in my foot has mostly faded. Let’s continue with the Shadow Team’s tasks, shall we?”

Mo Shu was stunned. He had thought she, as a big star, would be delicate and that missing an episode wouldn’t matter to her. With her earnings and fame, a single show was negligible; she could easily recoup by investing in a film.

Her commitment, beyond money and reputation, to persistence and principle, revealed a shared depth between them yet to be explored.