The plaza in front of the luxury fashion mall pulsed with noise. Fans waved banners and phones, their screams piercing through the crisp afternoon air. The cameras flashed non-stop, catching every flutter of Bai Lanyue's designer coat, every tilt of her perfectly styled hair. She stood radiant at the center of it all, flashing her signature poised smile as reporters jostled for quotes.
"Miss Bai! Over here!"
"Lanyue, any hints about your upcoming project?"
"Was that really the veiled musician at your birthday party?"
Her smile barely faltered. "You'll have to wait and see," she said into one microphone, voice as smooth as silk dipped in ice. Always the actress—always controlled.
She turned slightly to wave at a smaller crowd of fans near the barricades, her assistant trailing behind her with a practiced eye scanning the crowd.
Then it happened.
A sharp whistle through the air—followed by a dull *thunk*.
The noise silenced for a breath.
A rock—small, jagged—hit the side of the barricade and bounced, just barely grazing Bai Lanyue's coat sleeve before landing near her feet.
Screams erupted. Her assistant lurched forward, shielding her. Security scrambled, pushing through the crowd, barking into earpieces. Some fans panicked, others took even more photos.
"Is she hurt?!"
"Someone threw something!"
"Call the police!"
Bai Lanyue's eyes narrowed, adrenaline rising beneath her flawless mask. She hadn't been touched, not really—but it was intentional. That wasn't a fan's reckless move. That was a warning.
A small envelope, taped crudely to the rock, now lay on the ground, half-trampled in the chaos. A security guard bent, snatching it up with gloved hands, then passed it silently to her assistant.
Her assistant opened it. Eyes widened.
The paper inside was thin, handwritten in dark, spidery ink. Just a single line:
*"You've poked too far into what was buried. If you don't stop, you won't live to regret it."*
No signature. No crest. Just fear.
Lanyue snatched the paper from her assistant and read it herself, her expression unreadable.
A beat passed.
Then she folded it calmly and handed it back.
"Handle it," she said coolly. "And get me inside. Now."
Security moved to surround her, ushering her toward the building as reporters screamed more questions, cameras catching her every step.
But Bai Lanyue didn't answer them. Her eyes were far away now, lips pressed into a razor-sharp line.
She had enemies. That much she knew.
But this?
This was personal.
And someone wanted her gone.