Mary Scott looked at her younger brother, who hung his head in guilt, and sighed softly, "Go back to the ward first."
"Sis, I’m not going back. I want to go with you!" In the past, his sister had protected him so well that he didn’t understand how sharp reporters’ words could hurt soone. Now that he understood, how could he bear to let his sister face that alone?
"Alfred, listen to ." Mary glanced at the bandage on Alfred’s arm, her soft voice carrying a hint of firmness.
But unlike before, Alfred didn’t obediently listen because he was afraid of her anger. Instead, he stubbornly stood to the side, gazing at Mary with a resolute look in his eyes.
Mary furrowed her brows tightly, "Alfred, are you not going to listen to your sister anymore?"
"You’re always like this, always telling to listen, to obey. But what about you? When have you ever listened to ? Every ti sothing happens, you tell not to interfere, saying you’ll handle it. And the result? Each fall worse than the last, and you wouldn’t even let know. I’m your brother. I’m a grown man now, no longer the little boy who needs to hide behind you. I can protect you too!" Alfred broke out in frustration after hearing Mary’s repeated admonitions.
Mary looked at her brother, whose eyes were red-rimd and filled with emotion. Her heart twisted with a mix of sadness and pride. Despite being preoccupied with life’s struggles, her little brother had unknowingly grown up into a man who wanted to protect her—he’d grown so much she now had to stand on her tiptoes to pat his shoulder.
After a mont of silence, Mary finally spoke, "I’ll have the doctor check. If they say you’re fit for discharge, we’ll go together."
"Really?" Alfred, having braced himself for a stalemate with his sister, lit up in surprise upon hearing her agreent.
David Locke saw Alfred’s goofy reaction and thought of Alfred’s words to the press earlier. He finally realized where Mary’s money had gone. A sense of tender appreciation surged in his heart, but he didn’t forget to jab at Alfred sarcastically, "Your sister’s willingness has conditions. If the doctor says you can’t leave, will you cry?"
"Who’s crying?" Alfred retorted instinctively, then quickly looked at Mary with a wary expression. "Sis, don’t worry. I know my injury—it’s definitely okay."
Mary gave her brother a sideways glance and then shot a look at the man in the wheelchair. Sudden inspiration struck her. "Dobbin Locke, your leg hasn’t healed after so many days. Should you have the doctor take another look?"
"Trying to find an excuse to ditch ? No way." David Locke seed to have seen through Mary’s little ploy from miles away.
Mary awkwardly coughed, "I didn’t an that; I’m seriously concerned about you."
"Well then, thanks. But Master Brandon already found the wheelchair irritating, so his wife prepared a special traditional dicine plaster for . It’s rumored to promote bone healing—it should arrive in the next couple of days. Don’t worry; my leg will be fine," David answered confidently.
Mary was familiar with Master Brandon’s wife. As Old Mr. Smith’s final disciple, she had exceptional dical talent—adept in surgery and deeply imrsed in her research. Hearing David’s reassurance now genuinely put Mary at ease.
"Alright, let’s prepare to head out." Knowing she couldn’t shake David Locke off for the ti being, Mary no longer resisted.
Alfred imdiately pressed the call button to summon the doctor. After verifying Alfred’s injuries were superficial and didn’t require him to stay, the trio left the hospital and headed to the hotel for the press conference.
Along the way, David kept looking at Mary, making her feel uncomfortable. "What are you staring at?"
"Aren’t we going to discuss what you’ll say at the press conference?" David leaned back in his seat, turning to look at Mary beside him.
Mary froze. She had thought that matter had passed—was he going to hold it over her again?
"Haha, there’s honestly nothing much to discuss." Mary felt both sha and guilt when thinking about her actions last night.
"Really? You worked so hard last night—shouldn’t I share so thoughts to honor your efforts?" David said with a sly grin.
From the backseat, both Alfred and Mia Anderson were montarily stunned. Why did it sound like soone was leading the conversation off-track?
What did he an by working so hard last night and honoring her efforts? The more they thought about it, the less appropriate it felt.
Alfred couldn’t help but clear his throat as a reminder to the duo up front that there were others in the car.
But David didn’t care about them at all. His gaze remained fixed on Mary.
Mary felt increasingly uneasy under his gaze, especially after his suggestive comnts. Her cheeks flushed as she lightly smacked the back of David’s hand, "My brother and Mia are still in the back."
"What difference does it make if they’re back there?" David replied, turning to glance at the two huddled figures whose ears were obviously perked up. "They’re adults now. Discussing grown-up topics shouldn’t be a problem, right?"
"N-no problem..."
"Director Locke, please continue."
The duo, unfamiliar with such thick-skinned behavior, suddenly found themselves embarrassed instead.
David smirked and turned back to Mary, "See? They don’t mind."
Mary, "..."
This man’s audacity was practically built with reinforced concrete.
"Since they don’t mind, shall we continue?" David asked amicably when Mary remained silent.
Mary glared at him, "I thought we were clear on this matter back then. As of now, I still stand by my earlier decision."
She firmly believed leaving the industry was the best option.
David’s eyes darkened as he looked deeply at Mary. "Are you sure you won’t regret it?"
"No..."
"Mary!" Just as Mary was about to confirm her decision, Mia let out a sudden exclamation from her corner.
The attention of everyone in the car imdiately shifted toward Mia.
Realizing she had accidentally spoken aloud, Mia hastily explained while brandishing her phone toward Mary, "Mary, look at this! A lot of dia outlets are speaking up for you!"
Mary hadn’t caught the contents on Mia’s phone and murmured skeptically as she took it, "The press conference hasn’t even started. What could the dia possibly say on my behalf?"
Glancing at the screen and seeing the prominent bold headline, Mary froze. She looked at David in surprise, "This is..."
In the past few days, all reports about Mary had been overwhelmingly negative, with the accompanying comnts even worse. Despite David’s efforts behind the scenes, he could only subtly influence public opinion without directly reversing the narrative to avoid backlash and complications.
But now, the headline boldly proclaid, "What Has Mary Scott Done to Deserve Being Kicked Out of the Entertainnt Industry?"
Opening the article, the first image was a doctored photo of Mary with an overlay of the words "Get Out of the Industry." Instead of imdiately defending her background, the journalist presented the photo before exploring her co-star Charlotte Leigh—revealing their shared trajectory at Starlight Entertainnt and the underhanded rivalry between them. Evidence suggested Charlotte played no small role in Mary’s downfall.
The details ticulously depicted Mary’s struggles after being sidelined: surviving in various film crews, playing faceless extras, naless maidens, helted soldiers, and countless stand-ins—hundreds if not thousands of thankless jobs.
If not for the na "Mary Scott" in the captions, it would be hard to believe that the corpse on screen or the uncredited background character was once a popular actress.
The journalist asked the burning question many were wondering: With such relentless effort, was Mary driven by money or simply her passion for acting?
Skilled as ever, the journalist didn’t imdiately provide an answer but instead recounted widely known anecdotes about Mary:
The stingiest, most frugal celebrity! Reusing carpets, buying fake goods—the obvious kind from street stalls.
For both insiders and netizens, mocking Mary for her thriftiness was once popular sport. But for a star striving so hard, why was she so poor?
The narrative reached its climax, and the journalist dropped donated money receipts alongside annotations crediting an anonymous netizen for verification.
The result was unveiled. Unless viewers had caught her live stream, most would’ve been stunned: Mary wasn’t miserly for herself—all the money she earned went to orphanages and welfare institutions.
The article concluded with Alfred’s video, where the young and handso man tearfully questioned the crowd, "Back then, my sister was seventeen, and I was thirteen—we were provided for by our parents. Isn’t that normal?"
"For years, every penny my sister earned beyond supporting my education was donated to orphanages and welfare institutions. Isn’t that enough?"
"Do we need to atone for our father’s sins with our lives?"
Three poignant questions, each hitting hard, delivered by soone visibly battling tears and cara anxiety.
The photos and video paired together stirred overwhelming emotions in netizens—sympathizers increased, comnts apologizing to Mary flooded in, and montum began shifting rapidly in her favor.
Mary stared at the article, already shared over ten thousand tis, and softly murmured the na listed on it, "Sumr Lucy?"
Then she turned to David, eyes sharp. "This article—it’s connected to you, isn’t it?"
David raised an eyebrow, "I’ve been with you all this ti. How could it involve ?"
His reply didn’t convince Mary.
She stared at him for a long mont before suddenly leaning forward to hug him tightly, "Dobbin Locke, thank you."
David was taken aback but then curled his lips upwards in satisfaction. His woman was getting cleverer.
Behind them, Alfred and Mia witnessed the news and noticed the sudden public reversal of Mary’s reputation. Both were bewildered—how did things turn out so sweet? Just like that, Mary hugged David tightly, without hesitation.
This ti, despite previously warning him to restrain himself because others were present, she clung to him, unwilling to let go.
Sensing her embrace deepen, David placed his large hand on her waist and chuckled warmly, vibrations sparking a sweet ripple in Mary’s heart. She tilted her head up to look at him, "When did you prepare this? How did it happen so quickly?"
From Alfred confronting reporters to now had barely been half an hour, yet the article’s preparation clearly involved lengthy effort—details even she had forgotten.
"It was prepared earlier but seed incomplete. Releasing it wholesale wouldn’t cause much of a stir or improve your situation, so it remained unused. Only when Alfred exposed those facts did we find the perfect trigger," David admitted openly.
Mary, touched by his ticulous planning, grew equally impressed by the journalist’s skill. "That journalist must’ve worked hard to compile new material so quickly and publish it right away. You’ve got talented people. Should I thank her personally?"
"She’s not mine. Michael Piers’ go-to journalist. As for gratitude—if you decide to stay in the industry, knowing her wouldn’t hurt," David stated, recalling Master Brandon’s reluctance when he borrowed the journalist and smirking over her capabilities.
Admittedly, Michael Piers had good taste.
Mary blinked at his suggestion. "Stay in the entertainnt industry?"
She had resolved to leave, battling heartache about her decision. Now with the sudden possibility of staying, her nerves heightened. She looked up at David. "Really... not leaving?"
"When we get to the press conference, many dia outlets will likely amplify this post’s reach. Your background won’t serve as ammunition against you anymore. But whether you stay or go remains entirely your call," David replied.
Rather than coercing her like he once would’ve, he wanted her to grow, granting both of them space.
Overbearing relationships suffocated—he knew that.
Although he often felt the urge to tie her up, lock her away, and ensure she only belonged to him, his logical side finally defeated his possessiveness.
Mary hadn’t anticipated hearing such considerate words from David. She studied him intently before confirming he was genuinely serious—letting her choose.
Touched, she felt their relationship growing positively, maturing alongside their struggles.
He was gentler now, more understanding.
Lowering her head, Mary buried it into his chest and softly murmured agreent.
David gazed at her like she was a kitten before leaning down to kiss her nose. She didn’t resist but instead shyly tilted her head upwards to et him halfway.
Soon, the two began kissing passionately.
Behind them, Alfred and Mia gawked, their jaws almost hitting the floor. Weren’t they supposed to be people too?
Up front, the driver focused on the road while Assistant Jonah sat prim and proper, his expression steadfast as though seasoned against such antics. Alfred and Mia, "..."
"Ahem!" Unable to bear it anymore, Alfred let out a rough cough resembling his lungs about to collapse.
The sound startled Mary, reminding her she was in a van with the driver, Martin, and others. Her face flushed deeply as she buried her head in David’s chest like an ostrich hiding its sha.
David, however, cast a dissatisfied glare at Alfred, his frustration evident. He showed no embarrassnt—only annoyance for being interrupted.
His attitude left Alfred and Mia feeling as though sohow, they had been the ones in the wrong. Awkwardly, they shrank back further into their seats.
Finally, Alfred muttered under his breath, "Actors really do have thicker skin, don’t they?"
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