Miss Beautiful C.E.O and her system

Chapter 768: Money isn't evil, it merely amplifies

Under the guise of a company-sponsored vacation, a young woman—curious about the glittering world of the wealthy—unknowingly stepped into a trap.

It wasn't that she hadn't been cautious. She had heard the rumors, the whispered warnings about the entertainment industry. She had been careful—at least, careful in the way someone inexperienced could be.

But her trusted agent had reassured her. With gentle persuasion and seemingly reasonable explanations, he painted a convincing illusion of safety.

By the time she boarded the plane, it was already too late.

When men from elite circles approached her—men whose names carried weight in business and politics—she was powerless against them.

What shattered her most wasn't only their cruelty. It was the sight of her agent smiling, conversing with those demons as though conducting ordinary business. Gratitude in his eyes. Satisfaction.

She soon realized she wasn't the only victim. There were others. Many others.

Those who endured quietly, offering little resistance, were "compensated" and eventually released.

Those who resisted to the end… met far worse fates.

She didn't know every detail, but the crude jokes those predators exchanged were enough to fill in the blanks.

And the ones who later tried to speak out—especially those with some public influence—were swiftly silenced.

An accidental fall.

A drug overdose.

A tragic misfortune.

She had been too terrified to even tell her parents, afraid that speaking up would drag them into hell with her. These men were powerful—so powerful that their combined wealth could destabilize economies.

People said unity was strength.

But did people truly unite?

Only when everyone was affected.

What hurt her most were the whispers from colleagues—the blunt accusations that she "deserved it" for boarding that plane, for accepting a company-sponsored trip.

As if it were that simple.

Then what about employees in legitimate companies who were sold out by their bosses during overseas retreats? Were they foolish too? Did they deserve to become prey?

Victim-blaming was easier than confronting real culprits.

It spared people from admitting their own fear.

Ling Qingyu watched the young staff member tremble, her voice breaking into quiet sniffles. She reached out and gently rubbed her back.

"See?" Ling Qingyu said softly. "Don't you already know in your heart how absurd those accusations are? If you know they're cowards, why let their words wound you?"

Her tone remained steady. "I know you're strong enough to judge right from wrong."

The woman lowered her head in silence.

She understood, deep down, why those words still hurt.

Those who had never experienced such darkness could not truly empathize, no matter how sweet their words sounded. They had never felt the suffocating closeness of fear.

Most preferred to stand on moral high ground—calmly analyzing, rationalizing, speculating—like judges in a courtroom where they bore none of the consequences.

Like the so-called experts on television rehearsing war simulations—calculating projected casualties and destruction as if they were merely numbers on a spreadsheet—without the faintest understanding of what such losses meant to ordinary families.

If even experts could behave that way, trusting politicians who governed entire nations with greed became even harder. Of course, genuine and righteous leaders did exist among the ruling class—but they were a minority.

"I feel like you have something to ask me. Or… are you worried you might offend me?"

"Yes, Miss." The woman nodded feebily. "May I?"

Ling Qingyu tilted her head slightly. "Go on."

"I really don't wish to upset you but I must ask. Forgive my offense. Are you rich? How wealthy are you?"

Ling Qingyu blinked at the bluntness, then a faint smile curved her lips. Before she could respond, the woman hurriedly added,

"If it's private or inconvenient, you don't have to answer. What I truly want to know is… what do the rich think of us? Of our situation?"

"You're asking why people in our class do nothing?" Ling Qingyu asked calmly, immediately grasping the core of the question.

"Yes… Are we just tools? Playthings in your— their—eyes?"

Instead of answering directly, Ling Qingyu asked, "What do you think of me?"

"You seem kind, gentle, caring." The woman hesitated. "I don't believe you're evil."

"You 'seem,' hmm?" Ling Qingyu's gaze sharpened slightly. "Do you mean I'm not necessarily what I appear to be?"

"They were the same too…" The woman trailed off.

Ling Qingyu sighed softly. She understood.

"I can't give you a clear answer," she said after a moment. "But I can give you one perspective. Why should they care? What does it matter if a hundred or a thousand suffer—so long as they themselves remain unaffected? As long as the devils involved know their limits and the façade of order continues, many will choose comfort over confrontation."

The staff member's face turned pale. Her lips parted in shock.

But then something in her expression shifted.

Yes… why should they care? Even ordinary people often turned away when the problem wasn't theirs. Selfishness wasn't exclusive to wealth.

Seeing the woman's silence grow heavy, Ling Qingyu added gently,

"That's the stance of the indifferent—not necessarily mine. Not all are heartless. Some do act. But such matters are complex and deeply concealed. Even among the wealthy, information is compartmentalized. You might sense something wrong, but without concrete evidence, intervention isn't simple."

She paused before continuing.

"As for why you feel most rich people are evil… I'm afraid the answer may disappoint you. It isn't wealth that creates evil. It's human nature."

Her voice remained steady.

"In this world, how many truly walk with integrity and strong morals? Even among the vast population, genuinely good people are rare. Why would the elite class be any different?"

She leaned back slightly.

"Money amplifies what's already there. A kind person with resources may become philanthropic and protective. But someone with hidden malice?"

Her eyes darkened just a fraction.

"They simply gain the power to act on it."

Somehow, Ling Qingyu's blunt honesty shattered the staff member's mental blockade. She was no longer drowning in resentment over the world's injustice, nor obsessing over why karma seemed so selective in punishing evil.

It was as if a crack had formed in the rigid shell of her perception—and light seeped through.

Unaware that she had just become someone's unexpected mentor, Ling Qingyu casually grasped the woman's palm and began kneading it.

"Ah—Miss!" the staff cried out in surprise.

"Though I'm not one of those degenerates—and I want nothing to do with them—I'm still sorry you had to experience such a disaster," Ling Qingyu said softly. "Remember this: despite our selfishness, what makes us human is the will to protect humanity itself. Class and wealth shouldn't matter when it comes to that."

She squeezed her hand once more.

"We have a saying where I'm from—survive a calamity, and fortune will follow. So cheer up, young lady. And never doubt your beauty."

The staff flushed as the kneading continued. Xiao Yue, Sofia, and Sofia's partner all protested at once, accusing Ling Qingyu of shamelessly taking advantage.

"Thank you for your kind words," the staff replied shyly. "But isn't my beauty what brought disaster upon me?"

Ling Qingyu laughed. "If that were true, then what am I?" She pointed at herself without the slightest trace of modesty.

Here we go again. The girls exchanged helpless looks. Her narcissism had returned.

"Miss is the most beautiful person I've ever seen," the staff said solemnly—though she had to suppress a twitch at the corner of her lips to keep from laughing.

"See? She said so." Ling Qingyu flipped her hair dramatically and winked. "Unlike my so-called friends here—no loyalty at all."

Snickers burst out among them, the tension dissolving completely. The three girls weren't merciful when they slammed Ling Qingyu's boast. All of them consoled the staff's heart, making her realize being beautiful was also a part of herself. Denying it meant denying herself.

The staff knew it was impossible to grow truly close to someone of Ling Qingyu's status. Still, she allowed herself to indulge in this fleeting warmth. She couldn't help envying Xiao Yue and the others.

"I'm certain you're one of the good ones among the wealthy," she said earnestly.

"Wow, I've been given the 'good person' card." Ling Qingyu placed a hand over her chest theatrically. "What should I do? I don't want to lose this rare connection."

"I'm serious, Miss. I never thought I'd meet a truly noble family among the elite."

Perhaps Sofia and her partner didn't radiate obvious wealth. But Ling Qingyu and Xiao Yue carried something else—confidence, authority, an innate nobility of temperament.

Ling Qingyu's confidence stemmed from wealth, connections, personal capability—and secrets no one else knew. Xiao Yue, on the other hand, was a warlord in all but name. Neither of them resembled ordinary socialites to attract men like gold-diggers she had seen many times, pretending as wealthy ladies.

"A pity, my little sister," Ling Qingyu said suddenly, addressing the staff with casual affection. "I'm not a good person. I'm a villain. I'll do whatever it takes to achieve my goals. I don't care about the process—only the results."

"Villain?" The staff rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No matter how convincingly you say that, I trust what I see. You're more than just some pragmatic enabler."

If someone like this young miss called herself a villain, then perhaps the world's definition of villainy had gone astray long ago, the staff thought.

In her eyes, Ling Qingyu possessed not cruelty—but greatness restrained by will. The bearing of someone meant to rule, yet capable of lowering herself to comfort a stranger.

She cheered up that humanity still lived on.