Chapter 73 Thorns' Counterattack

Victor Berg's public opinion offensive continued to ferment, with #TheDevil'sBirthStory# spreading wildly on social media, even spawning various distorted versions.

"She fell in love with the man who hurt her?"

"From victim to 'queen', a carefully orchestrated fall."

"Psychology Expert Analysis: How Does Trauma Create Monsters?"

“Has she become the new abuser?”

…

Ruan Xingchen's fingertips gently slid across the shocking headlines on the screen, and her eyes gradually became cold and sharp from the initial trembling.

"Boss, do we want to ban these media?" Atai asked in a low voice.

"Xingxing." Mo Xiaohan turned and looked at Ruan Xingchen who was standing by the window.

"No, let them continue." She shook her head, a sneer on her lips: "I want to respond personally."

Three days later, Southeast Asia's most authoritative International Medical Journal was rarely published in an expedited edition, with the front page featuring a paper signed by Ruan Xingchen - "Post-traumatic Stress Disorder and Power Reconstruction: On the Psychological Defense Mechanism of Survivors."

Within a rigorous academic framework, she unpacks the psychological transformation of survivors in extreme circumstances, her words revealing a sharp edge: "Stigmatizing victims' survival strategies as 'blackening' is itself a secondary violence against trauma."

On the same day, the press conference of the Mo Group was surrounded by the media.

Ruan Xingchen, dressed in a white couture suit, her long hair neatly tied up, walked onto the podium in high heels. In front of the camera, the corners of her lips curled slightly, without any stage fright or trembling, but her eyes were as cold as ice.

"Everyone, I only want to say two things today." She began, her voice low, but it instantly silenced the entire venue. "First, some people say that I've 'fallen'. But I want to ask—"

She paused briefly, then looked up at the camera, her gaze piercing through countless screens. "When the world pushes you into the abyss, will you choose to fall to your death, or grab hold of the thorns and climb out?"

The whole audience was silent.

"I chose the latter."

Ruan Xingchen slowly raised his left hand, and the silver ring on his ring finger shone coldly under the flash light.

"Victims never need to be 'saved.'" She smiled, a smile so beautiful it was almost dangerous. "Because we grow our own fangs! This is an adaptive psychological reconstruction under extreme trauma, a survival instinct fostered by the amygdala in desperate situations."

Having said that, she changed the subject slightly.

"Secondly, since everyone is so interested in the analysis of 'how trauma creates monsters'—" she tapped the microphone with her fingertips, making a crisp sound, "why not first look at who is systematically creating trauma?"

She tapped the console with her fingertips, and two documents popped up on the big screen at the same time: on the left was the donation record of the charity foundation, and on the right was Berg Pharmaceuticals' Southeast Asian regional freight route map.

"Mr. Victor Berg, the sponsor of the Maenam Morning Post and the head of Berg Pharmaceuticals, has donated $100 million to anti-human trafficking organizations in Southeast Asia over the past five years," she said, her lips curling slightly as her gaze fell on the large screen behind her. "This is truly admirable."

"But what's interesting," Ruan Xingchen's voice suddenly turned cold, "is that Berg Pharmaceuticals' densely distributed routes in Southeast Asia 'just happen' to completely overlap with the two major human trafficking transit hubs in Southeast Asia announced by Interpol. Even more coincidentally, the timing of each of the Foundation's 'targeted donations' closely coincides with the peak periods of illegal trafficking in these regions."

She raised her hand to indicate the overlapping area on the screen, her eyes never leaving the glaring red. "Is this a philanthropic coincidence, or... using the sugarcoating of donations to cover up the dirty dealings of the airline?"

As public opinion was in an uproar, Berg Pharmaceuticals and the media tools it controlled were caught up in scandals one after another.

- The personal account of the editor-in-chief of the Maenam Morning Post had dozens of secret transactions with Berg's Southeast Asian black money network, and some of the funds flowed to the accounts of drug lords in the Golden Triangle;

- All the promoters' accounts on social media were hacked, and their posting records showed that they were simultaneously manipulating propaganda for multiple extremist organizations;

- The victims listed in the so-called "psychology case" in the Maenam Morning Post are children who were illegally tested by Berg Pharmaceuticals in Cambodia three years ago;

- A laboratory in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, associated with Berg Pharmaceuticals, was exposed to have leaked a deadly virus sample, leading to an unexplained influenza outbreak in the region last year;

- Interpol raided Berg Pharmaceuticals' Southeast Asian transit point and seized a batch of fentanyl raw materials labeled "anti-cancer drugs."

…

Mo Xiaohan stood in the monitoring room, watching Ruan Xingchen's ease on the live broadcast screen, with a slight smile on his lips.

Artest reported in a low voice: "Boss, Berg Pharmaceuticals' stock price has begun to plummet. Europe has just frozen Victor Berg's two offshore accounts."

Mo Xiaohan turned the silver ring: "Not enough."

He swiped open his tablet and pulled up an encrypted video—a record of Victor's secret meeting with the leader of an anti-government armed group in Myanmar last month.

"Send it to the BBC," he said casually. "The title will be 'The Philanthropist's Arms Salon'."

At this time, Victor was urgently dealing with the mess in Southeast Asia - emergency mediation of scandal public relations, overnight destruction of key evidence, the follow-up of the sudden attack on the flight transit station, and the chain of turmoil caused by the backlash of public opinion. The entire Southeast Asian business network was on the verge of collapse. He had to temporarily restrain his actions and stay at the headquarters to stabilize the core business.

He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the stock market numbers plummeting wildly, and a hint of gloom finally flashed in his gray-blue eyes.

"That's... a great comeback," he murmured, the whiskey glass between his fingers reflecting his white teeth. "I almost forgot... you're actually a top student in medical school."

"But this is only the first round of the game." With a playful sneer on his lips, he turned and walked to the secret compartment of the bookshelf, pulling out a dusty archival report.

"When your professional beliefs are torn apart by reality...what will you do?" He whispered to the air, excitement flashing in his eyes, and his fingertips brushed over the medical school photo of Ruan Xingchen before she was deceived - a white coat, a ponytail, and a smile as clean as unpolluted snow.

——The second game begins.

Late at night, Mo Family Manor.

Ruan Xingchen stood on the terrace, the night breeze ruffling her long hair. Footsteps sounded behind her, and Mo Xiaohan's arm wrapped around her waist.

"Still thinking?" he asked in a low voice.

She shook her head, her fingertips touching the silver ring on his left hand that matched hers.

"I was just thinking..." she said softly, "If you hadn't rescued us, what would we be like now?"

Mo Xiaohan pinched her chin and forced her to look at him: "There is no if."

His kiss was strong and possessive.

"You are destined to be my eternal day, the only light that I cannot escape from."

The evening breeze carried the moist moisture from the Chao Phraya River, and the neon lights of Bangkok city in the distance blurred into a blood-red color.

And this storm continues.