78: Chapter 78 Flipping the Table! A Thousand Spies, She Risked Her Life for Them!

Economy Class.

Yin Ruoying's fingers hovered over the screen, staring at the message she had just sent.

"Director Zhou, Jiang Rumu is back. Should I proceed with the previous plan?"

It was direct.

No probing, no foreshadowing. Yin Ruoying had been struggling in the short drama circle for five years and had long since learned a truth—acting coy in front of capital is equivalent to digging your own grave.

In the bottom right corner of the dialog box, "The other party is typing" flashed for three seconds.

A reply popped up.

"Don't worry, Sister Ying. Jiang Rumu's contract has two months and eleven days left. She has clearly refused to renew, and even rejected the proposal to be affiliated with a studio."

Yin Ruoying's thumb paused on the screen.

The next message followed immediately.

"The Company's attitude is very clear—Jiang Rumu is a thing of the past. She has earned a lot for the Company over these five years, but now that the contract is expiring and we can't keep her, we won't force it."

"Future resources will be fully tilted toward you. The layout for the film and television track has already started, and money is not an issue."

Yin Ruoying stared at the four words "Money is not an issue."

She wiped away the crooked eyebrow with a wet wipe, bit by bit, and picked up the eyebrow pencil again.

This time, her hand was very steady.

The last message popped in.

"In addition, the signing procedures for Gu Zeyan and Su Wantang have been completed. Together with you, the Company now holds half of the traffic of the Dating Reality Show. Let Jiang Rumu play with her own meager popularity. Once the contract expires, we will use some methods, and the market will naturally give the answer."

Yin Ruoying exited the dialog box.

She took off those exaggerated long tassel earrings and put them into her makeup bag. Leaning back against the seat, she closed her eyes.

"Fine."

Two words, so light they were almost inaudible.

The tension at the base of her phoenix eyes completely released.

First Class.

Li Li was woken up by the vibration of his phone.

It wasn't the kind of polite notification that happened once or twice.

It was the violent frequency that said, "If you don't look at me, I'll vibrate your whole arm numb."

On the screen, which was shattered into a spiderweb, the Wi-Fi signal had connected at some point, and background messages were pouring in like a floodgate opening.

News pushes, Ministry of Foreign Affairs announcements, Weibo hot search alerts, TikTok private messages.

And a WeChat voice message from Director Pei Zhao—four minutes and seventeen seconds long.

He clicked on the news first.

The first one.

[Breaking: Ala Country announces the arrest of 1127 foreign citizens within its borders, all charged with espionage! Involving 23 countries!]

The second one.

[Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Ala Country holds a global press conference to officially announce the inside story of the "Bloody Banquet" incident—it was an anti-human operation planned by the Israel intelligence agency, Mossad!]

The third one.

[Israel issues a statement: Strongly protesting against the frame-up by Ala Country, the so-called "evidence" is purely fabricated!]

The fourth one.

[Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Ala Country responds: You say it's fabricated? Fine, let the whole world see.]

Li Li clicked on the fourth one.

The page loaded for three seconds. A video.

Ala Country Ministry of Foreign Affairs press conference hall. Dark brown wooden podium, three flags. The spokesperson wore a white robe, the headscarf fixed with a gold rope ring, and a stack of files piled next to his hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen."

The spokesperson's English was clear and standard.

"Three days ago, the Israel intelligence agency Mossad launched a terrorist attack code-named 'Bloody Banquet' at the Abu Dhabi Palace. More than four hundred dignitaries and civilians from various countries, including members of our royal family, were nearly killed."

He opened the file.

"The following evidence was collected and sent out at the risk of her life by an intelligence officer who had been lurking inside Mossad for ten years. Her name is—"

The spokesperson paused for a moment.

"Delia bin Saeed, citizen of the United Arab Kingdoms, Princess of the Oman Emirate, our daughter."

The big screen lit up.

Page one—a list of three deep-sea moles Mossad had in the high-level military of Ala Country. Name, position, code name, recruitment time, accurate to the month.

Page two—a topology map of a money laundering network built through seventeen offshore shell companies. Funds started from Tel Aviv, passed through Cyprus, Liechtenstein, the Cayman Islands, and finally flowed back to three military procurement accounts in Abu Dhabi.

Page three—GPS coordinates of twenty-three safe houses, scanned copies of rental contracts, and monthly operating accounts.

The journalist area exploded, the sound of shutters so dense it distorted.

A Reuters reporter was the first to stand up.

"May I ask where Ms. Delia is currently? Is she safe?"

The spokesperson was silent for two seconds.

"Delia bin Saeed sacrificed her life three days ago while executing the mission."

The whole room went quiet.

The spokesperson pulled a photo from the bottom of the folder and put it on the projector.

In the photo, Delia was wearing a dark blue slim-fitting long dress, standing in front of the barbed wire of a desert base.

She showed her profile, and the setting sun gilded her outline with orange.

"She exchanged her life for these."

The spokesperson closed the file.

"Israel says we framed them, so let the whole world see—is this evidence enough for the International Court?"

The video was cut off here.

The comment section below had already exploded.

Li Li exited the page and clicked on the next push.

[Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Ala Country simultaneously releases Delia's last video will (partially)—Global media goes crazy]

He didn't click on it.

He had seen the full version of that video on the aircraft carrier, and he remembered every frame.

Next door, Jiang Rumu also woke up.

It wasn't clear if she was woken by the phone's vibration or if she hadn't slept at all.

She turned sideways and reached for the phone on the small table. The moment the screen lit up, her fingers froze.

She was looking at the same news.

The cabin was left with only the low-frequency hum of the engines.

Jiang Rumu stared at the photo—Delia's profile standing in front of the barbed wire. Below her collarbone, the amethyst pendant was quietly pressed against her own skin.

Her fingers slid down the screen.

The first comment in the comment section: "She was only twenty-six."

Jiang Rumu tucked the phone under the blanket. She closed her eyes.

"Did you see it?"

Li Li glanced over from above the partition.

"Yeah."

"Over a thousand spies, twenty-three countries. Ala Country is directly flipping the table this time."

Jiang Rumu didn't pick up on that.

"Her video... how much was released?"

"The public version must have been edited, parts involving intelligence details won't be released." Li Li flipped through the pages. "But her identity, what she did—the whole world knows."

Jiang Rumu pulled the blanket up.

"Fahd said he would give her the title of National Hero, right?"

"Yeah."

"The Royal Mosque, the highest honor, right?"

"Yeah."

"Her mother will also be moved over, right?"

"Yeah."

She wasn't repeating information; she was confirming one by one—whether the things Delia entrusted before she left had been implemented.

Everything was implemented.

The revenge was taken, the data was delivered, the maid was protected, and even the mother's grave was moved.

Jiang Rumu muffled herself in the blanket.

"That's good."

It was quiet for a few seconds.

"I hope this is the result she is satisfied with."

There was a commotion from the direction of the economy class.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz—

More than three hundred Chinese citizens' phones were ringing at the same time. At the same time, the same push.

[Record of Ala Country Ministry of Foreign Affairs global press conference: Complete evidence chain of Mossad "Bloody Banquet" operation disclosed]

Economy class instantly turned into a large-scale collective viewing site. More than three hundred screens lit up at the same time, with simultaneous interpretation in English, Arabic, and Chinese overlapping.

Shen Jue held up his phone, his mouth open wide enough to fit an egg.

"Brother Ye! Over a thousand spies! Over a thousand!"

Cen Ye leaned over and glanced at it. He took the cigarette that was still unlit from his ear and twirled it between his fingers.

"Mossad has had its bottom line stripped bare this time."

Shen Jue scrolled down.

"Delia—isn't this the princess who left with Brother Li!"

He got stuck.

Cen Ye took the phone and clicked on the photo.

Desert, barbed wire, profile, sunset.

He returned the phone to Shen Jue. He didn't speak again. The cigarette was put back on his ear.

Front row.

Gu Zeyan's live broadcast room was still hanging.

The number of online viewers soared to 23 million—not because of him, the whole internet was looking for real-time information sources, and his "evacuation flight live broadcast" happened to hit the hot spot.

The barrage was full of news.

[Who is Delia? Please popularize science!]

[She is the princess who appeared in Li Li's live broadcast before! She helped them escape! She sacrificed herself later!]

[Wait—can the footage from Li Li's delayed live broadcast match the evidence released by Ala Country??]

[It all matches... That was a real battlefield record...]

[So he wasn't acting? Those were all real???]

Gu Zeyan stared at the barrage.

His brain buzzed.

The audience finally realized one thing belatedly.

Li Li's live broadcast that night—grenades, gunfights, clearing enemies in the corridor—was not some amateur show.

That was a forty-seven-minute real combat record.

And every second was now corroborated by the official press conference of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Ala Country.

The poor amateur who sat in the same Production Team as them and was looked down upon by them, had really fought his way out of a hail of bullets.

Gu Zeyan's hands began to shake.

He slowly put down his phone.

He muted his own mouth.

First Class.

Li Li finished reading all the pushes. The public opinion on the foreign internet had already exploded into a mess.

The official Israel issued seven statements in a row, with the wording upgraded from "strong protest" to "reserving all countermeasures." The spokesperson for the United States Department of State was questioned seventeen times at the regular press conference, and the answer was always "We are evaluating the relevant information."

The United Nations Security Council emergency meeting had already been convened.

BBC, CNN, Al Jazeera, NHK, all major international media had only one name on their front pages—Delia bin Saeed.

Li Li put down his phone.

Now, the whole world remembered her name.

He clicked on Director Pei Zhao's four-minute voice message.

Director Pei Zhao's voice was so hoarse it was about to fall apart.

"Li Li, the show is suspended indefinitely, you know that. But there is one thing you might not know—"

"During the three days you were out of touch, the Company signed Gu Zeyan and Yin Ruoying. Added to the previous Su Wantang, several people who were at odds with you are now in the hands of the Company."

Pause.

"Jiang Rumu's contract has more than two months left. The Company no longer intends to keep her."

Another pause.

"I'm telling you this, not to make you meddle. It's to let you—"

Director Pei Zhao suddenly stopped.

"Forget it, you weigh it yourself. After returning to the country, find some time, let's talk."

The voice message ended.

Li Li pressed the phone to his chest. His left wrist turned habitually.

The Company.

Before the contract expires, eat up all the traffic that can be eaten. After expiration, support newcomers to fill the vacancy.

Yin Ruoying, Gu Zeyan, Su Wantang—three chess pieces, placed there for the market gap after Jiang Rumu exits.

Capital sets the game.

Does Jiang Rumu know?

One hundred percent clear.

When she said, "I don't want to let those people make this money," he knew.

She saw everything clearly.

So she refused to renew, refused to be affiliated, refused everything related to the Company.

A 200 million USD endorsement, she would rather wait for the contract to end before signing, risking not getting the contract, than letting those people take a penny.

Recalling their first meeting at the airport, the agent and assistant were watching coldly, completely not treating her like a top-tier artist.

This woman, in such a difficult situation.

Yet she was so tough.

He leaned back in his chair.

Next to the partition, Jiang Rumu turned over, facing the porthole.

Under the blanket, her hand was pinching the amethyst pendant.

Outside the window at 30,000 feet, the clouds were paved into pure white.

The last second the phone screen went dark, a hot search push popped up in the corner—

#Ala Country releases evidence chain of Bloody Banquet, Li Li's live broadcast footage matches completely#

Readership exceeded 400 million in six minutes.

And it was still rising.