From Nun to Real Heiress: Expert at Turning the Tables

The horn sounded, and the competitors rode their beloved horses down the track, acknowledging the audience.

As Ming Jing appeared, wearing a red riding outfit and riding a white horse, the audience burst into excitement.

On the big screen, a close-up of Ming Jing showed her wearing a helmet, her beautiful, pitch-black eyes gazing ahead. Gone was her usual gentleness, replaced with a determined spirit, like a young plant sprouting tenaciously from a rocky crevice, always reaching for the sun and never admitting defeat.

This expression, paired with her stunning face that held a hint of innocence, left people irresistibly captivated.

“Ming Jing… Ming Jing…” The audience began to spontaneously chant her name, one shout overlapping the other, like a huge wave engulfing everything in its path.

Some horses began to nervously paw at the ground, but Violent Wind alone remained calm, radiating the poise and confidence of a true king.

Ming Jing closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, ignoring the thousands of people around her as the wind blew past her ears, and her memory took her back fifteen years.

The scene was identical, except that it took place abroad, and she had taken the money to race for someone else. In the end, she had won that competition, and the entire stadium had gone wild for her.

Ming Jing looked up at the sky.

Thin clouds obscured the blazing sun as birds soared against the horizon, transforming into black silhouettes fading into the sky’s edge.

She had once thought that in her next life, she would like to be a bird. Though ordinary, it enjoyed a freedom she could never attain in this lifetime.

Later she realized that it wasn’t a cage that confined her, but her heart.

If the heart was free, even if trapped, it could still find peace.

Qingqing, you and I will eventually gain our freedom and soar together across heaven and earth.

Zheng Qing huffed, “What am I supposed to say to you? You’re not even famous, yet you still go around picking fights and causing trouble. If you ever get popular, this will all be a stain on your reputation. Do you still want to make it in this industry? And why did you have to hit them in the face? Don’t you know how important a male actor’s face is? If it happens again, just leave, I won- I won’t take care of you anymore.”

In front of her computer—where a video of the horse race played—Zheng Qing happened to glance at the screen but suddenly froze in place.

She knit her brows, her eyes locked on the computer monitor, her frown deepening.

“A Yu …”

Xu Yan, who had been looking down and accepting his scolding, looked up when he heard his murmurs and glanced at the man opposite him.

Who was A Yu?

He had heard about Ming Jing participating in the race, and knowing that Zheng Qing had a complicated relationship, it wasn’t surprising that he was paying attention to the horserace. But why call her A Yu?

Zheng Qing waved a dismissive hand without looking up, saying, “You can go now.”

Xu Yan pursed his lips and looked at Zheng Qing one more time before turning to leave. As he closed the door, he glanced back to see Zheng Qing slouched in his chair, staring intently at the computer screen, as though lost in a trance.

Xu Yan furrowed his brow and thoughtfully closed the door.

“A Yu …” Zheng Qing’s fingers traced the cheek of the young girl on the screen.

In Ming Jing, Zheng Qing saw the shadow of A Yu.

Not only did she resemble A Yu in appearance, even her facial expressions and the longing she had shown for the sky and freedom were identical.

He recalled a mission they had undertaken abroad fifteen years earlier. In order to obtain important intelligence, A Yu had raced under a false name and won the championship. While the entire stadium had cheered for her, she had felt inexplicably lost.

A Yu later told him that she could be rain, Rain God, or any ordinary person, but she could never be Jiang Yu.

An assassin could not have feelings or a sense of self. An assassin only needed to obey orders, serve as a knife in the hands of their superiors, and kill without emotion or desire.

And yet, A Yu, you were so smart and knew that it was an abyss from which there was no return, but you still leapt headlong into it. Your desire for freedom had already surpassed everything else.

So now, have you found the freedom you longed for?

In a dark and airtight room, the faint glow of a computer screen was the only source of light.

The screen was paused on the image of the young girl’s face. A slender, sturdy hand trembled as it stroked the screen, brushing over the girl’s eyes, lips, and nose, seeming to carry an infinite affection and love.”A Yu… .” The man’s hoarse voice echoed quietly in the dark room.

It seemed like a call from afar, separated by the light-years between life and death.

“Are you A Yu?” Question.

“You are A Yu.” Affirmation.

“You are A Yu.” It’s the unrepentant persistence after numerous brushes with death, the excitement and agitation of losing and regaining, the helplessness after going through vicissitudes.

“Boss, something happened to Eighteen.” Aunt Hong’s anxious voice came from the phone.

“This time it was a small task, meant to be a trial for Eighteen. However, with over a month gone by, Eighteen has vanished without a trace, no signs of life or death.”

Aunt Hong’s voice trembled a bit. Eighteen was the boss’s most valued successor. Now that something happened, she didn’t know if the boss would blame her for it.

“Who’s the target of the task?” He never inquired about these trivial matters, leaving everything to Aunt Hong. This time, things had gone too far, and Aunt Hong couldn’t hide it anymore. So she finally decided to tell him.

Aunt Hong hesitated for a moment and then said, “A Jiangzhou celebrity, Ming Jing. We thought she was just a powerless young girl, but after losing contact with Eighteen, I did some investigation. This girl is far from ordinary. Eighteen’s task may have failed…” Her voice grew smaller towards the end.

If the task failed, Eighteen’s chances of survival were also slim.

Aunt Hong didn’t know that at the moment she spoke that name, the man on the other side of the phone gently curled the corner of his lip, his eyes brimming with infinite tenderness, no longer the decisive, cold-blooded Night Hawk.

“Who assigned the task?”

Aunt Hong immediately replied, “It was Zou Dawei.”

“Eighteen won’t die. There’s no need to deal with this matter anymore.” He hung up the phone as soon as he finished speaking.

Aunt Hong was utterly puzzled. What did the boss mean? Why wouldn’t Eighteen die?

The man stroked the screen with his fingertips, whispering, “A Yu, I will never let you get hurt in this life.”

Gunshots pierced through the air, and a thousand horses galloped, creating an overwhelming force. The audience felt the ground trembling as if it was an earthquake. Some couldn’t take it and gasped for breath, clutching their chests.

That was thrilling.

Zhao Qin looked at Eighteen, who was in the lead, and raised an eyebrow, “She seems to have changed suddenly.”

In the past, she was subtle and gentle, like a spring breeze bringing rain, moistening things silently.

After the gunshot, she became like a sharp, unparalleled sword, awe-inspiring and revealing her edges.

The contrast was so great that if they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes, they would have thought someone had swapped her out.

Ran Tengxiao narrowed his eyes, his fingers stroking the jade thumb ring. His gaze was fixed on Eighteen in the field.

“This is her true self, a sharp treasure sword. Even influenced by the Buddha’s teachings, she can’t change the fierceness in her bones.”

“It seems like my cousin knows her well.”

Ran Tengxiao hooked his lips confidently, “Because we are the same kind of people.”

Zhao Qin sighed, “Then people like you can’t attract each other.”

Ran Tengxiao neither agreed nor disagreed.

Ming Jing single-handedly demonstrated an unstoppable momentum, leaving those who initially underestimated her in disbelief. As Ma Xiao was about to catch up, the crowd couldn’t help but shout, the stands filled with cheers and waves of encouragement, one wave higher than the last.

Charles Gao couldn’t help but stand up, “Ming Jing, come on.”

Jiang Jinchen’s fists clenched on his knees, as his gaze remained fixed on a single point in the field.

“It’s too hot-blooded.” Wen Yaru and Song Yinzhang couldn’t help but feel their blood boil as well.

Qu Feitai’s lips curled up, his smile confident and flamboyant. She was the champion, without a doubt.