The black cat lay motionless on the windowsill. Much of the milk remained in the small bowl before it, and as it lapped at the liquid, it glanced anxiously toward the interior of the house. The unnerving stillness within made the cat raise its head alertly after every few licks.

This was the apartment building where Yin Xiaomo and Xiao Cheng had once lived.

Every object remained exactly as it had been before her marriage. The kitchen utensils were still in their familiar places, and the white ceramic pot painted with colorful goldfish—the one that had been taken away—had returned to its original spot.

Ou Chen stood by the kitchen doorway.

His back was still perfectly straight, yet he seemed much thinner; a faint, dark shadow of stubble darkened his jawline. His gaze was dimmed as he watched her repeat the same routine in the kitchen every day.

The aroma of rice drifted from the electric cooker.

Yin Xiaomo washed the chicken wings again and again. She turned on the heat, stood by the stove, and carefully stirred and simmered them.

The thick sauce bubbled with tiny pops. Once the sauce had reduced completely, she transferred the wings onto a plate, smiled, then spooned out a bowl of rice and placed it all on a tray before walking toward the dining table.

Ou Chen stepped aside, clearing the path from the kitchen door.

Her eyes were unfocused, as if she didn't notice his movement at all; she drifted past him as lightly as a cloud.

Setting the tray on the table, the gentle smile on her lips was as soft as mist. She arranged the bowls, chopsticks, and the plate of braised chicken wings, then looked up, addressing Xiao Cheng’s room with a faint smile, “Xiao Cheng, time to eat!” A sudden, wrenching pain in his chest made Ou Chen clench his fingers violently.

Watching her sit by the table, smiling vacantly; watching the empty chair she pulled out; watching the unchanged dinner—braised chicken wings, a bowl of rice, and a pair of chopsticks—despite having witnessed these actions countless times, the ache in his heart grew sharper with each passing day.

“Is it delicious?” she gazed tenderly at the transparent sunlight falling upon the empty chair at noon.

“Eat more if you like it.”

She picked a braised wing and placed it in Xiao Cheng’s bowl, smiling with contentment. Her expression was soft and gentle, as if seeing him eat happily was her greatest joy.

“Do you remember? Mom taught both of us how to make these wings.”

She tilted her head, smiling as she recalled, and placed another wing into that bowl. “You have to blanch the wings in boiling water first and take them out; you can’t start frying right away, or they won't get tender enough.” She chuckled as she continued, “The first time I made them, I burned the sugar before adding the wings, and the whole thing turned to scorched mush. But you still said it was delicious. You were lying to me then, weren’t you?”

The brilliant sunlight streamed in, and her soft murmuring floated lightly through the room. Outside, the landscape had already turned to early spring. The black cat remained silent on the windowsill, licking its milk.

More and more chicken wings were placed into that bowl of rice until finally, there was no more space left. Only then did she stop her chopsticks, looking distant.

Then, she fell silent.

The gentle light in her eyes slowly extinguished. She sat there blankly, staring at the bowl overflowing with wings and the transparent patch of sunlight on the empty chair.

Her face was utterly expressionless, as if devoid of thought. If no one disturbed her, she could sit that way forever.

“Have a little, okay?” Scooping a bit of the braised wing sauce into a freshly served bowl of rice, a man’s hand carefully brought a spoonful of rice toward her lips.

“Just a little bite, please?” His voice softened with added tenderness and pleading. As the spoon edged closer to her mouth, Ou Chen tried to coax her into eating something, even the tiniest amount.

Since the period of coma just before Xiao Cheng’s passing, she had barely eaten anything at all. During these long days, she had taken almost no water or sustenance.

“Xiaomo,” Seeing her lips tightly closed in a vacant smile, the crushing feeling of powerlessness and terror gripped Ou Chen again. He couldn’t help but pull the puppet-like woman into his embrace, closing his eyes, his throat hoarse as he murmured, “Don’t be like this. If you are like this, Xiao Cheng will be sad seeing you from heaven.”

In his arms, her eyes stared blankly ahead, unfocused. Her pupils were large and deep, empty of soul. Her body was so gaunt only bone remained, as if her very flesh was dissolving thread by thread.

“Please, I’m begging you,” Ou Chen’s arms held her tightly, wishing he could infuse his own life into her body.

“Just a little bit, okay?” As if sensing the pain in his voice, her body seemed to loosen slightly. Ou Chen held his breath, carefully maneuvering the small spoon of rice back toward her lips.

Her pale, chapped lips remained stubbornly sealed. Hardening his resolve, he pressed the spoon gently, easing past her teeth to feed her.

Watching her mechanically swallow the rice, Ou Chen’s eyes instantly brightened. He gently wiped the corners of her mouth with a tissue, then scooped another small spoonful, this time deliberately adding a piece of chicken on top. He brought the spoon close and whispered, “There, just a little more.” At that precise moment, her face turned startlingly ashen, and a gurgling sound started in her chest. Then, she wrenched her head away, opened her mouth, and with a violent retch, began to vomit intensely! She threw up the mouthful of rice she had just swallowed.

She bent over, continuing to heave without stopping.

She vomited in great gulps, her face the color of pale gold, her entire body slick with cold sweat. All that came up was clear water.

“Xiaomo!” Ou Chen caught her urgently, feeling her entire body tremble with cold. Such violent purging seemed as if it intended to expel her very viscera.

Yet, there was no expression of pain on her face; even her vomiting was performed with a vacant, dull detachment, a calmness that intensified his terror and helplessness.

Her body seemed to have lost the basic functions required for eating.

No matter what food was prepared for her, no matter how much he coaxed or forced her, she would stare blankly ahead. Even if she was made to swallow something, she would periodically gag and vomit it back up.

She was frighteningly thin.

Furthermore, she kept her eyes open day and night, as if her body no longer required sleep.

Only after doctors forcefully administered sedatives would she lapse into unconsciousness.

And only during those periods of forced sleep could they administer IV fluids to sustain her body.

“Tragedy Strikes: Yin Xiaomo Devastated by Younger Brother’s Untimely Death!” On this day, every newsstand on every street corner prominently displayed the Orange Daily, the sensational headline instantly drawing crowds of onlookers! Since Yin Xiaomo withdrew from the entertainment industry to marry into the prestigious Ou family, she had gradually slipped out of the public eye.

Although paparazzi were desperate to uncover details of her life as a wealthy wife, the Ou Corporation protected her so meticulously that reporters could never get close, eventually leading them to give up.

Fortunately, new faces constantly emerged in the entertainment world, and fresh gossip gradually made the public and reporters forget about her.

It wasn't until the release of this article that Yin Xiaomo reappeared in the public consciousness! Orange Daily reporter Hua Jin revealed that Yin Xiaomo’s brother, Yin Cheng, had passed away half a month prior at the young age of twenty.

The deep sibling bond between Yin Xiaomo and her brother made her unable to accept the blow, leading to mental instability.

Hua Jin also disclosed, according to a reliable source, that Yin Xiaomo’s marriage to Ou Chen, the young master of the Ou family, was not for the sake of the family’s prominent status, but because her brother, Yin Cheng, urgently needed a kidney transplant, and Ou Chen happened to be a perfect match.

This marriage was nothing more than an organ exchange transaction.

This news hit the public like a boulder dropped into water, creating an uproar! Xiaomo’s mental state following her brother’s death and the secret behind her marriage into the elite family instantly became the focal point of global discussion! Media outlets dispatched reporters to follow up on the story. The Ou residence, where Yin Xiaomo lived after her marriage, was surrounded by journalists. Reporters also relentlessly pursued the hospital mentioned in Hua Jin’s report, questioning doctors, nurses, and even cleaning staff for any insight.

After days of inquiries, the death of Yin Xiaomo’s brother, Yin Cheng, was grimly confirmed. Although the hospital remained vague about Ou Chen donating a kidney to Yin Cheng, based on the entertainment reporters’ “deductions,” Hua Jin’s report was likely true.

As for Yin Xiaomo’s current condition—whether she had suffered a complete mental collapse—no confirmation could be obtained.

Reporters camped outside the Ou residence for several days and nights but never saw Yin Xiaomo enter or leave, nor could they snap a single photo of her.

Reporters repeatedly called Yin Xiaomo’s and her manager’s cell phones, only to find them all switched off.

The reporters also couldn't locate Ou Chen.

He, too, seemed to have vanished; they couldn't find a trace of him even staking out the Ou Group headquarters.

It was rumored that he hadn't been to the office for several weeks, leaving all matters to his special assistant and a few other board members.

In that light, perhaps Yin Xiaomo’s situation was indeed serious. The young master of the Ou Group, who usually prioritized work, failing to appear at the company for weeks might be because he was tending to his wife grieving the loss of her brother, some reporters analyzed.

“What exactly is Xiaomo’s condition now?” This phone number at Zhen En’s house was known only to a few close contacts.

Yao Shu’er and Cai Ni had just called. Less than a few minutes after hanging up, Pan Nan called as well.

Listening to Pan Nan’s anxious voice through the receiver, Zhen En felt lost, unsure how to reply. Xiaomo—she— “Yin Cheng?” Hearing no response, Pan Nan’s voice froze for a moment, then asked huskily, “Is he really gone?” Zhen En’s hand trembled, a shivering pain lancing through her heart. Nearly a month had passed since Xiao Cheng’s departure, yet every time his name was mentioned, it felt as if the scar would bleed fresh, unstoppable blood.

“Yes.”

Controlling the tremor in her throat, Zhen En tried to keep her voice calm. But looking at the portrait Xiao Cheng had painted of her that hung on the bedroom wall, her eyes involuntarily reddened again.

“And Xiaomo—Xiaomo?” Pan Nan’s voice, filled with concern and worry, came through the handset. Another pang struck Zhen En’s heart. Thinking of Xiaomo sitting blankly by the window every day, thinking of Xiaomo’s figure, now thin as a sheet of paper, tears of sorrow streamed down her face.

She had promised Xiao Cheng she would take good care of Xiaomo, but Xiaomo now... “Is her condition very bad?” As if hearing her tears, Pan Nan urgently asked again, “Where is she now? I’m coming to see her!” “No,” Zhen En said softly, looking at Xiao Cheng’s profile in the oil painting. “Xiaomo doesn’t recognize anyone anymore. And she still thinks Xiao Cheng is alive.”

At the exact same moment.

Jennie stared at the newspaper in shock.

Her hands trembled as she repeatedly dialed Yin Xiaomo’s mobile number, but all she ever heard was the automated message: "I’m sorry, the number you have dialed is switched off.”

After a moment of hesitation, she pressed a different sequence of numbers.

And so, in faraway New York.

The phone rang in Luo Xi’s apartment.

The wind outside was fierce.

Spring had arrived.

Down below in the distance, the willows were sprouting tender buds, and the grass on the lawn grew greener every day. Yet, the Xiaomo that Zhen En saw each day was the same.

Every day, Xiaomo calmly cooked rice in the kitchen, prepared the braised chicken wings, called Xiao Cheng to eat, and placed the wings into that empty bowl until it could hold no more. Then, Xiaomo would begin her day-long trance.

The only variation was that she grew thinner, wasting away to a degree that was terrifying—thin as a wisp of smoke, ready to dissipate into the air with a gentle breath.

Ou Chen had consulted several psychiatrists.

However, no matter how patiently the doctors tried to counsel her or draw her into conversation, she remained seated woodenly, as if unable to hear or see anything. Her personal space was walled off from the outside world by thick barriers.

“She cannot continue like this!” Watching Xiaomo’s eyes, dark and vacant as a deep night, watching the skeletal thinness of her wrists devoid of any flesh, Zhen En said with a shudder, “She has to wake up, or she will die!” She would die. A splash of braised wing sauce landed on his finger as Ou Chen carefully tried to wipe it clean for her. Hearing Zhen En’s words, he froze abruptly! Her hand was ice cold, light as bone. Looking at her distant, dazed expression, a chilling coldness paralyzed his heart.

Would she die? “Xiao Cheng is gone!” Zhen En turned her shoulder, crying out sorrowfully, “Xiao Cheng is dead! You know how much he loved you! You know how sad Xiao Cheng would be to see you like this! Xiaomo, wake up, please! Xiao Cheng is dead. I know you are heartbroken, but you have to live!”

Yin Xiaomo was forced to face Zhen En, her expression vacant and dazed, possessing an abnormal tranquility, as if joy and sorrow had deserted her entirely.

“Did you hear what I said, Xiaomo? Xiao Cheng is dead! He is dead! That day at the hospital, when the doctor announced his treatment was ineffective, he was already gone! He didn't say he wanted chicken wings, he didn't say anything to you. When you walked to his bedside, he was already dead!” Zhen En shouted at her through streaming tears, desperate to reclaim her will. Even if waking up meant causing her fresh pain, she couldn't just watch her slowly perish!

The sunlight outside was bright and beautiful.

Yin Xiaomo slowly turned her head. She gazed fixedly at the white gauze curtain fluttering in the breeze, the sunlight diffusing a soft glow through the transparent fabric. Her eyeballs did not move; her body remained still.

Zhen En’s shouting gradually lost its force.

It was as if no cry, no matter how loud, could elicit a response.

She simply sat there quietly, from day to night, and from night until dawn. Ou Chen guarded her side constantly, and Zhen En ceaselessly tried every conceivable method, yet she remained silently seated by the living room window.

Then one day, the doll-like Yin Xiaomo suddenly began searching frantically through the refrigerator. Her search grew more desperate, her murmurs more agitated, until finally, she began throwing everything inside out!

“Chicken wings,” she searched blankly, her eyes filled with agitated urgency.

“What did you do?!” Ou Chen looked at Zhen En with heavy anger. Earlier that morning, he had seen Zhen En busy near the refrigerator, which had been stocked with enough chicken wings for Xiaomo to cook for many days.

“I took the wings away. Look, this works, right? She’s showing a reaction! This is a good sign, isn’t it?!” As if trying to rally herself, Zhen En took several deep breaths and walked over to the agitated, frozen Xiaomo, attempting once more to rouse her. “Xiaomo, stop making chicken wings. Xiao Cheng can’t eat them—Xiao Cheng is dead. Those in heaven cannot eat any earthly food.”

Was it working? Looking at Xiaomo’s vacant silhouette standing by the refrigerator, at the long, dark shadow cast diagonally on the floor, the black hole of despair in Ou Chen’s heart widened further. This despair and terror surpassed anything he had felt before! The previous despair over his inability to possess her paled in comparison. He would trade everything he owned for her sanity.

Even all his wealth, even her life, or—leaving her side forever. Once he finally possessed her, once she would never leave him, he understood: all his selfish, possessive love was worth nothing compared to her happiness and well-being.

“Chicken wings.” “Chicken wings.” The anxious panic on her face grew more pronounced. Yin Xiaomo violently shoved Zhen En, who was still trying to speak to her, and stumbled toward the front door, muttering under her breath, “Xiao Cheng, you’re hungry... Sister will go buy them right now...”

“Xiaomo, are you even listening to me? I’m telling you, Xiao Cheng is dead! Even if you make chicken wings every day, he won't be able to eat them! Xiaomo, I’m begging you, please wake up! Xiao Cheng is gone, but you still have Ou Chen, and you still have me! I swear, I will take care of you forever, just like Xiao Cheng, I will always stay with you! Please, Xiaomo, I beg you, don’t do this!”

But Yin Xiaomo heard nothing.

She mumbled to herself, forcefully pushing away the weeping Zhen En, and walked toward the front door. Ou Chen rushed to stop her just as she flung the door open with a sudden burst! A person stood outside.

The figure seemed momentarily surprised by the door opening so abruptly, then gazed at her intensely, carrying the exhaustion of a long journey. His hair had grown longer, and his face was thinner. He stared deeply into her eyes, and the ocean-like longing in his gaze slowly transformed into pain and pity.

Summer of Foam III