Horror Camgirl - Ch. 17: Treating the Actress’s Scars
Still, my face was unbearable to look at.
Hope filled my heart; someday, I’d become a beautiful woman.
Now, the question was, how would I sell this? Who would trust an unknown product?
Left with no choice, I turned to Tang Mingli for help.
Tang Mingli told me that after I left, the police arrived, arrested Manager Lin, and discovered the murdered receptionist was his mistress. He had multiple affairs, none of which knew he was married.
His wife’s family was furious; his wife divorced him instantly, taking all his shares and money. He had nothing left and now faced decades in prison.
Tang Mingli added that he had handled everything else.
The man can handle anything—truly impressive.
I asked him if he knew any wealthy friends, preferably women, with unsightly scars.
“Funny you ask,” he chuckled on the phone, “I happen to know one.”
Zhu Ling, a former starlet, was renowned for her beauty, grace, and unmatched acting skills. Her seven films won international awards, and audiences would watch anything she was in, no matter how terrible.
But at the height of her career, she suffered severe burns while filming, disfiguring half her face. Though her life was saved, her career was over. She had enough savings to live comfortably but spent her days confined indoors, unwilling to be seen.
Tang Mingli, having some rapport with her, called and arranged a meeting.
He drove me to Lakeside Villa on the outskirts of Shan City. The villa’s modern design and simplicity, paired with the clear lake and lush mountains, gave it a contrasting beauty.
A middle-aged maid led us in, whispering, “Miss Zhu isn’t in the best mood today. Please be considerate and try not to upset her.”
She looked genuinely concerned for Zhu Ling.
We entered Zhu Ling’s bedroom, where she sat before a massive floor-to-ceiling window, her figure lonely and somber.
“Zhu Ling,” Tang Mingli said softly, “we’re here.”
Slowly, she turned her head, her long hair framing half a burned face.
“Tang Shao, I didn’t expect you to visit,” she said, her expression blank. “Ever since my accident, those who used to hover around me like dogs have vanished, treating me like the plague.”
“Good riddance,” Tang Mingli replied. “People like that would only ruin the atmosphere.”
Zhu Ling’s gaze shifted to me, a sharp look in her eyes. “Tang Shao, is this the person you mentioned? She really has a balm to heal my burns?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“A Chinese herbal balm?” she asked again.
I nodded once more. “That’s correct.”
Her face darkened. “Tang Shao, I agreed to meet her out of respect for you, but you should know I’ve never believed in Traditional Chinese Medicine. TCM is no better than witchcraft—just con artists. I’ve never touched it in my life.”
She turned her back to us. “You can leave.”
Tang Mingli started to speak, but I stepped forward. “You must have tried everything by now, including multiple skin grafts, and still, nothing has worked. So why not give it a try? As they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. You’ve got nothing to lose.”
Zhu Ling scoffed. “You think your balm is free?”
“Of course not,” I replied, “and it’s not cheap.”
She cast a contemptuous glance at Tang Mingli. “You bring a fraud to see me? Unbelievable.”
Zhu Ling’s straightforward personality made her unpopular with many. When she was successful, people stayed silent, but once she fell, everyone was eager to kick her while she was down.
Tang Mingli’s expression darkened, about to respond, but I suddenly removed my hat and mask, revealing my own scarred face.
Zhu Ling stared, surprised.
“This is fibroma. I’ve had it since I was young, and doctors said it was incurable, that I’d live my whole life like this,” I said, meeting her gaze. “But I never gave up. Life may be tough, but I stay strong. I understand your pain, and I’d never deceive you.”
My words seemed to strike a chord. After a pause, she sighed and said, “Fine, I’ll try it. But if it doesn’t work, I’m not paying.”
“Of course.” I nodded. “You can apply it to a small area and see the results.”
I opened the porcelain jar, and a rich, pleasant fragrance wafted out. Tang Mingli’s eyes lit up, and even the skeptical Zhu Ling looked somewhat intrigued.
I carefully applied a small amount to her right cheek and instructed her, “Don’t wash your face tonight. You’ll see results by morning.”
Zhu Ling scoffed, clearly unconvinced.
I didn’t argue. Time would reveal the truth.
On the way back, Tang Mingli said, “You shouldn’t have promised results by tomorrow. Even miracle medicine doesn’t work that fast. Zhu Ling may be down now, but her uncle is the underground boss of Rong City. If the balm doesn’t work, she could ruin you in no time.”
I understood his concern. If the balm didn’t work, she’d feel betrayed. But I simply smiled and said, “We’ll see tomorrow.”
Tang Mingli sighed, thinking to himself that he’d protect me even if it meant allowing me this risky attempt.
Early the next morning, I received a call from Tang Mingli, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Zhu Ling just called. She says the balm actually worked and wants to meet you immediately.”
A confident smile spread across my face. Of course, it worked—I’d tested it on myself countless times.
This time, when we arrived at Lakeside Villa, Zhu Ling was more welcoming. Her eyes, once lifeless, now sparkled with renewed hope.
“Look, it really worked!” She came forward eagerly, pointing to the smooth patch of skin on her face. The balm had rendered her skin baby-soft and flawless.
Tang Mingli looked at me, astonished.
This girl kept surprising him.
“Sorry for my attitude yesterday,” Zhu Ling said, slightly embarrassed. “I’ve encountered too many scammers and have to be cautious.”
“No problem,” I waved it off. “I’m no doctor, so your skepticism was natural. Ms. Zhu, the full treatment will cost… let’s say three hundred thousand.”
Zhu Ling’s eyes widened. I worried she thought it too expensive—was I overcharging? My materials only cost a few hundred; charging three hundred thousand might seem like a scam.
“Only three hundred thousand?” Zhu Ling looked at me in disbelief. “That’s quite reasonable.”
Then I understood. To Zhu Ling, her face was priceless. She’d pay millions for its restoration. Many celebrities insure their body parts for exorbitant amounts, after all.
I sighed inwardly. I had hoped to charge her more but underestimated the value of wealth in her world.
She promptly transferred three hundred thousand, even adding an extra hundred thousand as a thank-you. I accepted it with modest reluctance.
I scooped a generous amount of balm and applied it carefully to her face. Zhu Ling savored the feeling, inviting us to stay overnight to witness the results.
Fearing any setbacks, I agreed.
We enjoyed a simple yet delicious dinner together, followed by tea and snacks, then retired for the night.
As I passed Zhu Ling’s room, I caught a strange scent in the air and paused.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“What scent is that?” I inquired.
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