She was pale and delicate.
With an enchanting beauty that seemed capable of bewitching hearts, evoking sympathy and making others reluctant to press her any further.
But the two socialites from the Capital City looked at Nancy Allen, nurtured to the point where even her fingertips seemed to glow, while they themselves were as disheveled as beggars, and their hearts were filled with furious jealousy.
Hiding in the crowd, they shouted, "Since you know you shouldn't stay, why don't you leave? Are you using your body to trade for the Shaw family's wealth? Did you smoothly enter the entertainment industry because you had backing?"
Nancy Allen stumbled back two steps, her eyes reddening slightly, whispering, "I am not, I didn't."
She was like a pitiful heroine, wronged and coerced, knowing only how to cry and not how to explain.
Nancy Allen felt she had a knack for acting.
This helplessness under pressure, even her eyelashes seemed to act, trembling lightly.
