Blackstone Code-Chapter 547: Never Give Up on Yourself!

“Right?”
Lynch pursed his lips and shook his head. “Maybe I’m wrong, but maybe I’m right.”
The live audience and viewers at home gasped. They hadn’t noticed that after evading Lynch’s question, Ora had counterattacked him. Instead, they were drawn in by Lynch’s ambiguous answer, which was Ora’s biggest gain as a host.
She could easily deflect questions she couldn’t answer with a sharp counter, and as a host, she had a natural advantage. Guests who dodged questions faced scrutiny from her and the audience, but when she avoided questions, the audience barely minded.
Because she was the host, appearing every episode, people didn’t care what she was dodging or trying to do—they only cared about the fresh faces bringing them entertainment during the brief ninety minutes.
The intrigued audience now looked back at Lynch, reacting to his answer with sounds of approval. Was he about to lose?
Ora didn’t think Lynch would give up so quickly. She kept her eyes on him, curious what tricks the young, handsome man might pull next.
Lynch’s smile was calm and relaxed, not nervous or tense. This show wasn’t enough to demand his full attention.
He leaned back on the sofa, crossed his legs, left hand on his knee, right hand resting on his left, fingers tapping rhythmically.
These subtle movements distracted people and lowered their defenses.
A doctor—who had done some questionable things under the guise of psychology and ended up locked away—had once told Lynch this. Small clocks, hourglasses, colorful visual distractions—they could scatter focus and relax mental barriers in fragmented thinking.
Both Ora and the cameramen found their attention drawn to Lynch’s tapping fingers; the cameraman instinctively zoomed in but soon refocused on Lynch himself.
Occasionally, people glanced at the fingers, inexplicably attracted by their motion.
Lynch sat comfortably and relaxed, looking at Ora without hesitation. “Ora, may I call you that?” After she nodded, he continued, “You must come from a very special family—wealthy or noble—from your bearing and your choice of accessories, it’s clear.”
“You probably had private tutors and attended the best private schools, right?”
One topic the upper class loved to discuss was their upbringing—a private but openly shared pride.
Ora nodded and spoke of her privileged upbringing.
She had attended prestigious private schools all her life, with multiple tutors. Though the audience had heard this before, they still expressed admiration.
Lynch nodded too. “But that’s your life, not all of ours.”
“Most people here, and in the Federation, share my background—you don’t see me as coming from a good family.”
“I don’t shy away from this. My father was a worker; my mother, a housewife who occasionally did odd jobs. We lived in poverty and hardship.”
“I couldn’t afford private schools. I’m grateful for the Federation’s education reforms that at least let me finish elementary and middle school before leaving school life behind.”
“Everyone knows…” He raised a finger and traced an imaginary line in front of him, drawing Ora’s gaze back to his hand before returning to his face. “Public schools have many problems. What I faced is what ninety percent of the Federation’s population has experienced.”
“Chaotic campuses, bullying, early relationships, gangs, abortions… almost every negative word you can think of applies to our schools.”
“But I’m not ashamed to talk about this. Some of you had better education and conditions, but…” He shrugged, looked at the audience and cameras, then finally at Ora. “Today, I’m sitting here as a guest on this show.”
“I’ve faced hardships many children from privileged families never have. I call them hardships. Now, we’re sitting together on equal footing—maybe even slightly above you. So tell me, who has truly failed here?”
His sharp counter pulled most people into his camp and hit the mark.
The audience, live and at home, felt a triumphant release. Yes, their lives were harder, but now one of them was sitting right across from Ora.
Even some who weren’t focused on Lynch began to like him—young, handsome, wealthy, and most importantly, one of
us
.
Ora opened her mouth but couldn’t find a reply. She realized that despite her reputation for sharp and biting words, Lynch’s incisive rebuttals left her powerless.
Why didn’t he, like others, make excuses or try to dodge after such a pointed question? Why respond so fiercely?
Leaving her no chance to resist, Lynch looked to the audience and cameras again. “Like most of you watching, I come from what Ora and people like her consider an unworthy birth and unhealthy upbringing—a chaotic life. But I want to say to you, and all viewers from the lower class like me,
Hey, don’t give up on yourself!
”
“We can’t choose our birth or parents. God gave us life—that is the greatest blessing. We shouldn’t complain that our parents couldn’t provide a wealthy environment.”
“No one wants it otherwise. They did their best. That’s no reason for us to give up. We can work hard, love ourselves, and prove it to everyone!”
“The Federation is full of miracles. If you dare to dream and are willing to bear the burden for it, I don’t know if you’ll get your dream—but you won’t regret it.”
“Now, back to the topic…” He looked at Ora. “You judge ordinary people’s lives by your father’s power, wealth, and standards. Are you arrogant, or do you really think you’re better than all of us?”
Voices of outrage erupted from the audience. Federation viewers weren’t meek, especially in talk shows—they were bold and outspoken.
The Federation constitution guarantees everyone the right to freely express their views anywhere. It’s a frustrating clause, but sometimes it’s refreshing.
The profanities from the audience twisted Ora’s face in anger. This show shouldn’t be like this!
She opened her mouth to speak, but Lynch cut her off. “You should apologize, Ora—not just to me, but to all the viewers.”
“No matter your reasons, you shouldn’t use these things as weapons. You’ve hurt not only me but all the viewers.”
Ora wanted to ask Lynch,
If attacking you is attacking everyone, why don’t you consider my feelings when you attack me?
As the audience chanted for an apology louder, Ora reluctantly chose to apologize, leaving in tears and anger.
It was like a victory, and all the audience—live and watching—felt deeply satisfied.
The sharp-tongued queen bowed her proud head, and many fully identified with Lynch, feeling victorious.
Ora decided to follow her father’s advice—to soften her approach and avoid sharp attacks. She realized she was no match for Lynch; continuing to clash would only humiliate her more.
This is a common trait among those raised with better education and family backgrounds—they know when to cut losses.
Often, people keep pushing in the wrong direction, betting on a miracle, not because they refuse to admit mistakes, but because they can’t afford to. They can’t afford to lose.
This time, losing could mean losing everything in life, so they had to gamble on an impossible hope.
In contrast, those from wealthier families could afford to lose, so they knew when to cut their losses—they could afford defeat.
The ability or inability to bear loss is perhaps one of the greatest causes of social inequality.
The interview that followed grew much calmer. The audience gradually began to listen seriously as Lynch shared little-known stories about his upbringing, love life, and entrepreneurial journey.
Ora 90 was indeed an explosive show. Through it, Lynch allowed more people to understand him concretely—not just a name they couldn’t connect to a real person.
Just as the program was about to end, Lynch suddenly asked, “Where’s your hairpin?”