Chapter Ninety-Three: Stop. She should not have to bear this.

At this moment, Bai Ling felt an unprecedented sense of disappointment. Even when she was suppressed by Xinghui Corporation, even when she was set up by Bai Rou, Bai Ling had never felt as despondent as she did today.

This drama was not just about herself, but connected to countless innocent hands, countless eyes filled with hope. Now, that hope had been utterly shattered. Bai Ling felt a weakness throughout her body.

Thinking back to her former laziness and ease, Bai Ling was both regretful and helpless. But what could she do? This was her fate.

"Indeed, in the end, it’s nothing but a hellish ordeal..." Ouyang sighed deeply. "Let me try to find another way. I’ll ask my family for help, maybe..." Although his family had some influence, whether they could help in this matter was uncertain. Therefore, Ouyang could not make any promises.

Bai Ling nodded. "Alright, thank you for your trouble."

"Ouyang," she said, "no matter what happens, thank you. You’re my true friend."

Ouyang nodded. "Let’s leave it at that for now. If there’s any news, I’ll let you know."

He was a completely different person from his usual self. Ge Fenfen struggled to adapt to the situation. "I’m going to go as well. I’ll see if there’s any way I can help!"

"Bai Ling, don’t give up. There’s still a chance!"

Bai Ling thanked Sister Ge and personally walked her out.

Time slipped by unnoticed, and the insults piling up online grew ever deeper. Bai Ling’s fans, and those who genuinely loved The Crown Princess, continued their struggle, never ceasing their efforts. Yet, it was all in vain. The voice of the masses, while seemingly loud, was in truth very small. Even the many voices defending her were mysteriously suppressed, barely causing a ripple.

As for legitimate avenues—legal action—those were nothing but empty talk. Was she supposed to track down and ban every troll's IP one by one? Was she supposed to launch a campaign to cleanse the internet?

Sorry, not just Bai Ling, a minor star, but even the most famous celebrities would find it nearly impossible to wield such power and influence. Capital always reigns supreme. This is an eternal truth. To turn things around, there is only one option: become capital yourself.

Unfortunately, Bai Ling’s investment plan for her brother, Bai Zihao, was still ongoing and had not yet reached fruition.

Still, things would eventually take a turn.

While Bai Ling was enduring her hardship, in Zhoujia Village, at Zhoujia Village Elementary School, Teacher Zhang Ruchun was browsing information on her old computer, the one she usually used for preparing lessons. When she saw the endless stream of abuse and ridicule, her eyes grew red.

She looked to the side, where a contract sat on the table. She realized she had to do something. Picking up her phone—an old device she had used for years, almost only for calls—she activated the video recording function for the first time.

"Hello, everyone. I am Zhang Ruchun, just an ordinary teacher," she began. "Today, I want to talk about something. No, not something—a person."

"I have never met a girl as kind as her. She brought hope to all of us."

It seemed to be her first time recording a video, speaking directly to the camera about something important. Her gaze was a little uneasy, but as she glanced at the contract, it grew steadier. With her rough hands, she picked up the agreement as if it gave her strength.

"Let me tell you about Bai Ling—a singer, an actress!" she continued. "My connection with her began on a television program, where she said, ‘When the youth are strong, the nation is strong.’ I think many of you may recall."

"I thought that would be my only encounter with her, but later, her agent contacted me and brought me an agreement."

As she spoke, Zhang Ruchun displayed the contract to the camera. On its front was written: Donation Agreement.

Opening the contract, the text was perhaps unclear due to the phone’s camera, so Zhang Ruchun smiled with a tinge of bitterness. "I don’t know if you can see it clearly," she said, "so let me read it out loud..."

"This is a donation contract. Ms. Bai Ling, in her own name, personally donated two million yuan to Zhoujia Village Elementary School."

"Moreover, all her personal share of the profits from the upcoming drama, The Crown Princess Ascends, will also be donated in full to Zhoujia Village Elementary School. She hopes to turn our school into the place where all the children from the surrounding villages can attend. If there are students in particularly difficult circumstances, unable to continue their studies, this money will also be used to sponsor their education and cover their future school expenses."

At this point, Zhang Ruchun’s voice trembled.

"This is the first time our elementary school has ever received a donation. Here, on behalf of dozens of children, I thank Ms. Bai Ling."

"To be honest, keeping this school running is not easy. The costs are considerable."

"The school may be small and shabby, but that doesn’t matter. I can persevere. Every year I stick it out, the children from this village and nearby villages get one more year of schooling."

"But my strength is insignificant, feeble."

"Even if I can keep them in school, I cannot keep them there forever."

"Fifty-six!"

"For more than a decade, I have clearly remembered fifty-six children who cried and told me, ‘Teacher Zhang, I don’t want to work, I don’t want to herd cattle, I want to keep studying.’"

"They are all just children. I remember the youngest was only eight."

"His parents were gone, his grandmother too, only a grandfather in his seventies. He was a good student, obedient and sensible."

"He wanted to go to school, but he couldn’t."

"I still remember him coming to say goodbye, crying and promising never to forget my kindness."

"But my heart aches. I wonder why I am so powerless, why I must witness all of this."

"They are all children. What did they do wrong?"

"Is it true that children from poor families have no right to choose their own lives?"

With trembling hands, Zhang Ruchun’s eyes were filled with tears.

At this moment, she was not looking at the camera or the contract in her hand, but out the window, at the little path outside—a path she had seen countless times, watching children leave dejectedly.

In the quiet of midnight, she would silently sit by her bedside, remembering.

"I heard Bai Ling once longed to study, once had dreams. Perhaps only she can truly understand the helplessness and pain these children feel."

"So, I earnestly beg everyone who sees this video—please stop."

"Stop the abuse directed at Bai Ling. She does not deserve this."