The storm hit by dawn.
By 7 a.m., the media was ablaze.
Trending on Weibo, headlines screamed:
"Qin Xieren Exposed: Smear Campaign Against Celeste Confirmed.""Blacklisted: Qin's PR Empire Collapses Overnight.""Industry Turns Its Back on Once-Promising Mogul."
Screenshots from the charity gala circulated with lightning speed—Ruoxi's poised takedown, Mira's projections, and Qin's devastated expression. Netizens dissected every second of the footage, analyzing Qin's microexpressions like it was a thriller drama.
And the court documents?Aiden's legal team had wasted no time.
Digital copies were made public through official channels. Everything was undeniable. Qin's name was now synonymous with duplicity, her career reduced to ash.
At Celeste headquarters, Mira walked into Liyana's office holding a thick stack of papers.
"All magazines and blogs have issued formal retractions," Mira said. "Qin's own PR agency dropped her as a client this morning."
Liyana looked up from her desk, sipping tea, calm despite the chaos.
"And the media interviews?"
"She tried to book two this morning—both hosts declined. Said they didn't want to associate with a 'toxic figure.'" Mira smiled wryly. "She tried a soft apology post on WeChat an hour ago, but the comments were disabled within ten minutes."
Liyana gave a nod. "Let it burn."
No bitterness. Just peace.
Because this time, justice hadn't come in whispers or behind closed doors. It had come loud, clean, and irreversible.
She set her teacup down, rising from her chair and walking to the window.
From her penthouse view, the city buzzed below—unaware of how close she'd come to having it all stolen by a woman driven by jealousy.
Behind her, Mira added, "The Lu Group's statement just went live too."
"Good," Liyana replied.
Damien hadn't held back either. A powerful message from the Lu Group reaffirmed their commitment to transparency, condemned Qin's tactics, and made it clear she would never work with any of their subsidiaries again.
The industry followed. Fashion houses, tech firms, ad agencies—one by one, doors closed on Qin Xieren with a quiet finality.
Across the city, Qin sat alone in a dim corner of her penthouse.
Her phone buzzed nonstop—but it was only news alerts and rejection emails.
Every partnership. Every deal. Every endorsement. All gone.
She stared blankly at her reflection in the glass.
No empire. No alliances. No friends.
She had bet everything on taking Liyana down—and lost it all.
She opened her tablet to record a formal video apology, eyes red but dry.
But just before she hit record, she paused.
What was the point?
Even she didn't believe the apology anymore. She'd been caught—exposed not by accident, but because she underestimated the woman she tried to destroy.
By evening, Liyana arrived at the Xu family estate.
Her mother greeted her at the door with a quiet embrace. "It's over?"
Liyana nodded. "Yes."
Her father poured her a drink and handed it over with a gentle smile. "Then rest, sweetheart. You've fought long enough."
Even her grandfather, usually composed, placed a proud hand on her shoulder. "You didn't just win. You ended it with dignity."
They all sat down for dinner—calm, warm, familial.
In that moment, it wasn't about empire or press or power. It was about peace.
Later, Damien joined them.
He sat beside Liyana, resting his hand lightly over hers beneath the table. No words were needed. He had watched her weather the worst. Now, he would help her build something even better.
The next morning, Qin's team released a final statement:
"Ms. Qin Xieren will be stepping away from the public sphere indefinitely. We appreciate your respect during this time."
There were no goodbye interviews. No second chances. No comebacks.
Just silence.
She was gone.