Chapter 62 – Obsessive Fans

Mu Ran noticed that everyone in the livestream chat was commenting for her to look behind herself.

She instinctively turned around, scanning the entire garden surrounding her, but saw no one.

Mu Ran smiled, putting on an expression of mock reproach, wagging her finger at the phone screen, her tone playful yet exasperated. “Don’t try to scare me, everyone. That kind of joke isn’t funny.”

She didn’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural, but there were too many mysteries in this world—like her own rebirth, something no one could ever truly explain.

In the chat window:

"Xiao Ran, be careful!"

"Mu Ran, someone’s behind you!"

"We’re not lying!"

The barrage of messages continued, and Mu Ran, half-convinced, leaned in closer to the phone, reading each comment carefully, her heart starting to race with unease.

What was happening?

She had just checked behind her—there was nothing there!

Taking a deep breath, with one hand gripping the tripod and the other holding the streaming phone, she prepared to head back to the villa. Grumbling inwardly, she thought this crowd really knew how to stir up drama. Did they think she was hosting a horror stream?

She hadn’t noticed that behind her stood a very short man, his gaze viciously fixed on her back. In one hand, he held a camera, in the other, a stone of moderate size.

“Mu Ran!”

The man’s raspy voice, laden with murderous intent, echoed in her ears—and through the livestream as well.

Everyone watching felt a chill. That voice was terrifying—was this some crazed stalker fan?

Mu Ran froze—so the viewers had been telling the truth!

She dared not turn around. Though she was strong, she wasn’t particularly agile.

She was no martial arts master, after all.

Faced with such a situation, her instinct was to escape.

Trying to act tough now would just be foolish.

But behind her, the man called out again and again, “Mu Ran! Mu Ran!”

His voice was like a demon crawling out of hell.

She sensed him drawing closer with every step; just the thought was enough for her to imagine his hideous face.

In the living room, the atmosphere had reached a fever pitch of terror.

“Mu Ran! Turn around! Are you afraid now? You should’ve considered the consequences when you rejected ‘Little Xuanyuan’ for the top spot!”

Now she understood—the man was ‘Little Xuanyuan’?

The aura around Mu Ran changed abruptly, growing cold and severe; the chill she exuded was even more terrifying than the man’s.

After all, she had died once before. She was curious to see just what this man intended.

What she hated most in life were those who, flush with dirty money, flaunted their power and preyed on others.

“What do you want?” Mu Ran narrowed her sharp eyes, her lips pressed tightly together, her gaze like daggers at the man before her.

She tossed the phone aside and strode lazily toward him, the force of her presence crushing down on the short man’s heart.

He took a deep breath, masking the shock and wariness in his eyes. “Little Xuanyuan sent me to teach you a lesson! He told me to tell you: you’re the first to ever turn him down.”

“Tell him he’s the most shameless piece of trash I’ve ever met—the very first.”

Mu Ran stared at the man’s face—pitted, filthy, with a long scar at the corner of his eye. One might easily take him for a murderer.

At that moment, the man’s shadowed features twisted into a mocking smile. He looked her straight in the eye, hands clasped behind his back, his voice cold and hoarse. “Whatever’s between you two is none of my business. I’m just a hired hand. I do the job, I get paid, and I leave.”

He despised these spendthrift celebrities more than anything.

Once, he’d been an ordinary man—a street photographer for Gao Tiange’s fan club. When he was diagnosed with a serious illness, brain degeneration, penniless and desperate, he turned to that “beautiful and kind-hearted” movie queen for help.

He never expected Gao Tiange to send a dozen bodyguards to beat him senseless.

After that, knowing he wouldn’t live much longer, he decided to become a stalker and make life hell for those foul celebrities.

“What exactly is your job?” Mu Ran thought the man’s mind seemed unstable—the way he stared at people, intense and conflicted, both sinister and yet not entirely malicious.

Just a contradiction.

He was a head shorter than Mu Ran; he craned his neck, mouth slightly open, and retreated a step, his cloudy eyes sweeping over her luxurious villa.

Lavish, extravagant.

If even a D-list actress like Mu Ran could live so well, then she must be corrupt.

Another rotten parasite in the industry.

“Speak!” Mu Ran’s patience was wearing thin. She turned to retrieve her phone and resume the stream.

Suddenly, the man spoke evenly, “Little Xuanyuan just asked me to deliver a message and then…”

“And then what?” Mu Ran picked up her phone, waved to her viewers with a bright, untroubled smile.

The man saw her lounging on the sofa, so at ease, while he stood there like a fool. His hatred flared.

This scene was a mirror of when he’d once begged Gao Tiange for help—he hated it!

The woman, relaxed as if she were some aristocrat; he, ignored, left standing uselessly.

Mu Ran glanced up at the man in the center of the living room, the corners of her mouth lifting in a playful smirk. “So, what do you want to say? Want to stay for dinner?”

The man gave a cold laugh and turned to leave, a chilling malice flickering in his narrow eyes, his mouth curving into a sinister grin. “No need for dinner.”

“Hurry up and get out. I won’t call the police.”

Mu Ran uncrossed her legs, set the phone back on the coffee table, and stood, ready to see the man out in case he tried something again.

Honestly, dressed all in black with that strange face, he was truly unsettling.

Just as the man was about to leave the villa garden, he suddenly spun around and hurled the stone at Mu Ran.

Caught off guard, the stone struck her squarely at the end of her eyebrow.

In an instant, blood streamed down her face as she clutched the wound and collapsed to the floor.

The streaming phone was aimed at the doorway—everyone in the chat witnessed the scene.

“What happened to Xiao Ran?”

“That man attacked Mu Ran!”

“He hit her in the face with a stone!”

The man froze in panic, glancing around in terror before quickly donning a mask and fleeing the courtyard.

He hadn’t expected to hit her face—he knew how much celebrities valued their looks.

But why had she fallen and not gotten up?

The man’s heart twisted with anxiety. A minute later, he returned to Mu Ran’s villa.

She lay motionless, her outstretched hands stained with shocking streaks of blood.

“Wake up!”

He came to her side, glancing around furtively—no one was nearby.

Had he killed her?

Killing someone meant prison!

He kicked her limp body. “Wake up! I didn’t mean to ruin your face! Are you really dead?!”

He crouched to check if she was breathing, and in that instant, her hand clamped tightly onto his wrist.

The next moment, her cold, merciless eyes locked onto his terrified ones.

“You didn’t mean to ruin my face? Do you realize you’ve broken the law?”

With a sharp tug, Mu Ran hauled him to the ground and pinned him, her knee pressing hard into his back.

Gripping his arms, she twisted them behind him, dislocating both shoulders, leaving his arms limp.

She was strong, and with his short stature, it was easy for her to drag him by the hair into the living room.

She tore off his mask and aimed the streaming phone at them both, his disgraced and desperate face appearing live for all to see.

“Tell everyone who you are and why you came to my home.”

He dropped his eyelids, refusing to speak, cursing Mu Ran’s cunning—she had only been pretending to be unconscious, knowing he would come back to check on her.

“Speak up!”

Mu Ran yanked his hair tighter; with both arms dislocated, he had no strength to resist, but his silence was defiant, feeling humiliated by her.

“Everyone, don’t be angry. He’s just a stalker—hired by someone else.”

The chat erupted with fury, cursing the man and urging Mu Ran to call the police immediately; stalkers could be extremely dangerous.

“My name’s Li Heng. Little Xuanyuan hired me to get revenge on Mu Ran.”

His muffled voice was thick with reluctance and shame. He dared not look at the camera, longing to break free and escape.

He hadn’t expected Mu Ran to be so devious—or so strong. He’d had no chance to fight back.

“Are you brain-damaged? Even if you were paid a fortune, you can’t do this—hurting others is against the law!”

Mu Ran tossed him aside in disgust, her face dark as she addressed the camera. “Little Xuanyuan—your real name is Ning Yi, isn’t it? We’re not done.”

The blood at the end of her brow had not been wiped away. The dried streaks on her face combined with her razor-sharp words left the chat in a stunned silence.

Mu Ran knew Ning Yi was in the livestream. She would make him pay.

Ning Yi was shameless—when he couldn’t have his way, he resorted to hiring thugs!

After ending the stream, Mu Ran picked up her phone to call the police.

“How did you know I had brain degeneration?”

The man lay on the floor, expressionless, sighing as if he had nothing left to live for.

“What?”

He repeated, “How did you know I have brain degeneration?”

“I didn’t. I just cursed you at random because of what you did.” Mu Ran made the call, then sat back comfortably to wait for the police to come and bring him to justice.

“Oh. Sorry. I shouldn’t have thrown the stone at you. And your wound… you should take care of it or it’ll scar.”

A hint of guilt flickered across his weary face.

Mu Ran sneered. The man looked to be around thirty, but seemed to have no understanding of the law. “If an apology could fix everything, why would we need the police? And by the way, you’re sick—you should get treatment. Do you think taking it out on society makes sense?”