(Part Two) Ou Chen froze.

Looking at Luo Xi, whom he hadn't seen in a long time, and seeing the still-intense affection in Luo Xi’s eyes directed toward her, his hand, which had been reaching for Xia Mo in mid-air, paused and then slowly dropped.

"Chicken wings." Yin Xia Mo looked blankly at the silhouette blocking her, instinctively reaching out to push the person aside. She had to hurry to the market to buy chicken wings for Xiao Cheng; Xiao Cheng wasn't well, and getting hungry could make him sick.

"Xia Mo, you can't go out!" Zhen En snapped out of the shock of suddenly seeing Luo Xi. Ignoring the need to greet him, she rushed to pull Xia Mo back from the depth of her movement to push Luo Xi away, calling out anxiously.

All the media outlets were already speculating about Xia Mo’s mental state. If she went out and encountered reporters, they would surely swarm her like hungry wolves! "Chicken wings," "Chicken wings," unable to break free from Zhen En’s grasp, a look of frantic anxiety crossed Yin Xia Mo’s face, her breathing grew ragged, and she began to struggle violently, struggling with all her might! "Fine! I’ll give them to you! I hid the chicken wings, I’ll get them right now, just don't go out…" Zhen En sobbed, finally announcing her surrender.

Xiao Cheng, she had failed again. She was too clumsy; she hadn't managed to take good care of Xia Mo, failing to keep her promise to him.

The midday sun streamed into the small kitchen.

Clear water flowed silently from the faucet as Yin Xia Mo’s expression returned to calm. She meticulously washed the chicken wings over and over, rubbing every inch of them with her fingers.

Each time she finished cleaning one, a slender hand would take it, carefully blotting the surface moisture with a clean towel, and then neatly placing it on a plate.

She poured a small amount of oil into the pot and turned on the heat, staring vacantly as the oil slowly heated up.

The person beside her carefully helped her put on a pair of cotton cooking gloves, then placed a jar of sugar, with its lid already off, in front of her. She dazedly scooped a spoonful of sugar into the pot.

As tiny bubbles formed from the melting sugar, the man’s long hand gently pulled her slightly aside and poured a plate of chicken wings into the pan. A sharp "sizzle" sound erupted, and only after the splashing oil subsided did he hand her the spatula.

She looked at him blankly.

Then, she turned her head away blankly again, her pupils wide with vacant shock. She slowly flipped the chicken wings in the pot, watching them gradually turn golden brown. She accepted the soy sauce handed to her, took the jug of cold water he offered, and the thick, savory aroma of the bubbling sauce filled the kitchen air.

Watching Luo Xi standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her, the bright sunlight outlining their profiles in beautiful gold, she felt an inexpressible understanding between her and Luo Xi—it seemed Luo Xi could sense her every thought.

He stared at the pair in silence.

Ou Chen’s back was ramrod straight, yet profoundly lonely.

Zhen En glanced uneasily at Luo Xi, who was accompanying Xia Mo, and then uneasily at Ou Chen.

Luo Xi was thinner; beneath the boyish allure he once possessed, there was now a definite trace of manhood.

The faint, knowing smirk was gone from the corners of his lips; his eyes, black as a deep pool, revealed only determination and resolve.

Ou Chen had also lost a great deal of weight.

Though his expression remained aloof and proud, and his posture eternally straight, his eyes were shadowed with deep sorrow, and the stubble on his cheeks showed signs of several days’ neglect.

Xia Mo hadn't slept day or night, and it seemed he had been keeping the same vigil beside her.

At that moment, the sorrowful look in his eyes as he gazed at Xia Mo and Luo Xi suddenly startled Zhen En; it felt as if he had reached some kind of critical decision.

"Xiao Cheng, time to eat."

Yin Xia Mo set out the bowls, chopsticks, and braised chicken wings on the dining table, calling gently toward Xiao Cheng's bedroom. Then she sat there quietly, waiting for Xiao Cheng to emerge and take the opened, empty seat beside her.

She waited a long time.

The bedroom door remained silently closed.

No one came out.

And no one sat across from her.

Staring blankly, she didn't start her usual routine of murmuring to the empty chair. Instead, she silently transferred one chicken wing, then another, into Xiao Cheng's bowl.

The bowl could hold no more, and the last wing nearly slipped off the top, but a pair of chopsticks quickly secured it.

"Perhaps Xiao Cheng is tired and wants to eat in his room. I’ll bring the food in to him, alright?" Luo Xi carefully repositioned the wing and spoke softly to her.

Yin Xia Mo slowly lifted her head, seemingly struggling to comprehend what he was saying.

After a long pause—she nodded dumbly.

Zhen En covered her mouth in shock! This was the first time in ages that she had seen Xia Mo react even slightly to the outside world, even if that reaction was founded on coaxing.

After that, Yin Xia Mo seemed to conclude her day's work.

She returned to sitting by the living room window, gazing out, her eyes unmoving. Lost in thought, she wondered about nothing in particular, occasionally allowing a faint smile to touch her lips.

Luo Xi sat quietly beside her.

He didn't disturb her.

Nor did he attempt to speak to her.

He knew that Xiao Cheng was her life; in her world, Xiao Cheng was her sole center.

Perhaps Xiao Cheng was sickly, perhaps it seemed she was the one constantly supporting him, but in supporting Xiao Cheng, he had also become the pillar of her existence.

He understood that feeling.

That despair and emptiness when the entire world collapses, which drains the soul completely and leaves one so numb that feeling ceases.

The midday sun slowly faded into the afternoon light, and the breeze blowing through the window gently lifted strands of hair from her cheek.

When the evening twilight bathed the living room, Luo Xi gently draped a cotton blanket over her, looked at her deeply one last time, and stood up.

"Can I come see her from now on?" As he walked toward the door, Luo Xi paused, stopping in front of Ou Chen.

Ou Chen looked at Xia Mo, sitting quietly by the window, and then at her exceptionally serene face, replying in a low, husky voice, "If you can make her well, then I am the one who should leave."

And so, from that day forward, Luo Xi visited often.

Sometimes he would buy the freshest chicken wings from the market; sometimes he would bring a small tank of goldfish; sometimes he would sit before Xia Mo and sing for an entire afternoon—singing Black Cat and Milk, singing Diamond, singing The Little Mermaid of Foam. She sat entranced while he sang gently.

But her condition showed no further improvement.

As if her soul had dispersed, she showed no reaction to the outside world; she wouldn't eat or drink, barely sleeping day or night, growing thinner with each passing day.

Zhen En, beside herself with worry, received an unexpected call. Cai Ni informed her that Director Wu was extending a sincere invitation for Xia Mo to audition for a film.

Zhen En had initially intended to refuse immediately; how could Xia Mo film anything in her current state?

Cai Ni then told her that this matter was perhaps worth considering.

Though Zhen En hadn't been in the entertainment circle for long, even outsiders knew Director Wu's name was revered.

Director Wu was one of the foremost directors in the country, always prioritizing film quality, and remarkably skilled at perfectly blending artistic merit with commercial viability. He had won an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film and received multiple nominations.

To star in a film directed by Wu was the dream of every actor in the domestic scene; it didn't just mean a chance to enter the international film arena, but also an acknowledgment of one's own acting ability.

The film Director Wu was preparing this year was a major production intended for the Golden Deer Film Festival, funded by Boss Xia's Xia Group. However, the casting was not limited to stars under Starlight Economy Company; selections were being made across Asia.

Who would be cast in this film was already hot gossip in the industry, with many famous stars from Korea and Japan traveling specifically to meet Director Wu.

Cai Ni mentioned that Director Wu hadn't initially considered Yin Xia Mo. It was only the recent news about Yin Xia Mo’s mental distress following her brother’s death that caught his attention. Director Wu believed that Yin Xia Mo’s current state might make her one of the best candidates for the leading female role.

This was because the film told the story of fiercely dependent brother and sister, focusing on events after the brother’s passing.

"Perhaps this film could resonate with her, stimulate her to break free from the pain of losing a loved one?" Cai Ni’s words on the phone stunned Zhen En, who then hesitated while looking at Xia Mo, who was sitting blankly by the living room window.

Yin Xia Mo was terrifyingly thin now.

Her already slender frame had dropped by at least ten catties; her bones were clearly visible at her wrists and ankles. Her eyes appeared unnaturally large, vacant and empty, and her skin was so pale it lacked any color.

When she sat before the billowing sheer curtains of the floor-to-ceiling window, the wind seemed capable of whisking her away.

She was utterly unaware.

Except for the time dedicated to making braised chicken wings, she spent every day just sitting, staring out the window, as if merely waiting for the last bit of life within her to be exhausted.

"We must find a way to wake her up."

In the afternoon, the doctor put away the syringes, glanced again at the self-absorbed Yin Xia Mo, and told Ou Chen with a solemn expression, "Her will is too negative. If she is maintained solely on nutrient injections, it will cause severe harm to her body in the long run."

Wake her up... In the evening, Ou Chen used a small spoon to ladle the fresh apple juice he had juiced himself and gently brought it to her lips, saying hoarsely, "Have a little something, okay?" She sat there like a puppet.

"Be good, just a little bite."

He held his breath and guided the spoon into her mouth, watching her drink the apple juice blankly as soft sunset hues filled the sky outside. His voice was slightly tense.

"Swallow it, don't spit it out, Xia Mo…" "Huuu—" She vomited violently, spewing clear, watery sickness all over herself. Wake her up... Ou Chen helped her remove her soiled outer garment and cleaned her face and hands with a warm towel.

In the bathroom, he silently washed her clothes, scrubbing them again and again with soap until the light foam filled the washbasin.

In the bathroom mirror.

His face looked haggard and mournful.

Wake her up... Late at night, she stared at the darkness outside the window, her body maintaining that unchanging posture. The black cat circled at her feet, meowing, while her eyes stared blankly, unfocused, into the pitch blackness.

Ou Chen watched her with aching pain.

Suddenly, he reached out and pulled her up from the chair. Her body was so light that a gentle tug sent her tumbling outward.

He caught her, holding her paper-thin body in his arms, and walked toward Yin Cheng’s bedroom! The bedroom door opened.

Yin Cheng’s room was still clean and tidy, just as it had always been. His presence seemed to linger, as if he were leaning against the headboard drawing, and the moment the door opened, he would look up, beam a happy smile, and call out, "Sister—" Yin Xia Mo stared blankly at the empty bed, seemingly dazed, unable to grasp why Xiao Cheng wasn't home so late.

Ou Chen felt her body slowly growing cold, growing stiff. Pain shot through his heart, and instinctively, he held her tighter in his arms.

But after only a few seconds, he forced himself to be ruthless and placed her on Xiao Cheng’s bed.

The room was filled with all of Yin Cheng’s past drawings.

There were oil paintings, watercolors, and sketches. Some were drawn long ago, others while he was hospitalized in his ward. Most were in exquisite frames, though some were just simple sheets of paper, in various sizes, neatly piled in the corners of the room.

Ou Chen had organized all these drawings, intending to display them at Yin Cheng’s solo exhibition.

After Yin Cheng’s death, her memory seemed to remain stuck in the past; she hadn't returned to the Ou residence after their marriage, so these drawings had returned with her to Yin Cheng’s old room.

"Do you remember this one?" It was a small drawing, childish and simple, depicting a long-haired little girl holding hands with a little boy, looking up and smiling at another boy. The scene seemed to be set in summer, with a huge, bright red sun and rainbow-colored bubbles floating in the air.

The frame holding this drawing was slightly worn. Ou Chen gently stroked it with his finger and recalled, "Xiao Cheng drew this when he was seven. I thought he was a bit afraid of me, that he didn't like me being with you, but on my birthday, he gave me this drawing."

Yin Xia Mo stared dumbly at the picture.

"These are all drawn by Xiao Cheng too."

Ou Chen slowly picked up the drawings one by one and placed them before her. Every drawing featured her, like a series of photographs recording her changes from childhood onward: one of her reading, one of her walking on a tree-lined path, one of her serving customers in the bakery, one of her cooking in the kitchen.

"Have you noticed," Ou Chen murmured, gazing at every depiction of her in the paintings, "that in every single drawing, the You that Xiao Cheng painted is smiling? A smile so brilliant, as if she were living a simple, happy life, free of worries."

Drawing after drawing.

Golden sunlight filtering through crimson leaves—it was the scene of her calling him and Xiao Cheng for dinner beneath the maple tree, smiling at Ou Chen while holding Xiao Cheng’s arm.

In the hospital room, the azaleas on the windowsill bloomed brilliantly; she smiled back while holding a watering can, a smile penetrating straight to the eye blooming on her face with a few light strokes of charcoal.

Her by the sea, her among the flowers, her on the swing—in every one of Xiao Cheng’s paintings—she was mesmerizingly beautiful.

Because every single one of those images showed her smiling: a slight smile, a wry smile, a hearty laugh—a smile that reached her eyes, like a flower blooming under the sun.

"What Xiao Cheng wanted most to see was your smile."

Ou Chen gently pulled her into his embrace. "If he can see you in heaven, he would want to see you living happily, wanting to see the look of joy bloom on your lips."

Her body remained stiffly unresponsive.

Her eyes stared unblinking at the drawings, as if frozen. She remained rigid for a long time, her body growing colder and colder.

"Xia Mo, wake up," he held her tightly with his own warm body, trying hard to dispel her chill.

"Xiao Cheng is dead." "Xiao Cheng is dead." In the deep night, Ou Chen held her tightly, repeating the words to her one by one.

Wake her up. How could he wake her? If exposing that cruel reality before her again, raw and bloody, could wake her, he would choose that path, no matter how brutal.

But did she truly not know? Or did her subconscious know all along? She couldn't bear to admit her own weakness, nor could she endure the pain of losing Xiao Cheng, which was why she had sealed herself away so deeply.

If he woke her up, would she be reborn, or would she be utterly destroyed? Yet, if he allowed her to remain self-isolated like this, there was only one outcome.

"Xiao Cheng is dead." She stared blankly at the mass of drawings covering the bed, the vibrant colors in the artwork, the self in every drawing—whether smiling, wry, or laughing heartily. The phrase echoed ceaselessly like a nightmare.

Her body gradually shifted from coldness to rigidity, and from rigidity to trembling.

Slightly.

Her lips seemed to move.

Then she stood up dazedly, leaving Ou Chen’s embrace, and walked out of Xiao Cheng's bedroom. The living room window was wide open, the sheer curtain flapping wildly in the night wind. Instead of sitting in her usual chair, she huddled on the floor, leaning against the wall.

Her body was curled up like a boiled shrimp.

She trembled continuously.

She stared blankly at the pitch-black night outside.

She held this posture for the entire night. Ou Chen wrapped a blanket around her and stayed by her side.

From late night until dawn, she remained motionless against the wall, like a glazed doll that couldn't even blink.

The morning sun spilled over her body.

She was still unmoving.

By noon, she didn't go to the kitchen to make chicken wings as usual. She sat stock-still on the floor, as if an even thicker wall had now encased her.

Wake her up. How could he wake her? Ou Chen closed his eyes helplessly. In the despair twisting in his heart, a memory suddenly flashed back—something Zhen En had told him a few days ago.

Was it today? Yes, it was this afternoon.

He slowly opened his eyes.

He looked at her, curled up against the wall.

His eyes darkened momentarily. He pressed his lips together, suddenly grabbed her, and pulled her into the bathroom.

He wiped her face clean, then clumsily combed her long hair straight. He found a long dress from her closet and changed her into it, then carrying her, he strode out the front door! The audition for the film Picture Mirror.

This audition was primarily to select the lead actress. Since the films directed by Director Wu were always industry hot topics, and Picture Mirror was specifically targeting the country's most significant annual event, the Golden Deer Film Festival, nearly every media reporter was present. They were buzzing with energy, jostling to jam the corridor outside the audition location wall-to-wall.

Xia Group had arranged the audition setup quite thoughtfully: the celebrities’ makeup rooms, the audition meeting room, and the actual audition room were three spacious, independent suites. This allowed reporters brief glimpses of the stars while ensuring the stars were protected from being constantly surrounded by the press.

Shen Qiang sat coolly before her makeup mirror in a black dress, trimmed with white mink fur on her short coat, while assistants busily worked on her hair, clothes, and makeup.

Yao Shu’er sipped water while casually glancing at Shen Qiang in the mirror. She knew she was essentially there just to make up the numbers.

Shen Qiang firmly occupied the position of Queen of Pop, delivered an outstanding performance co-starring with Luo Xi in The Grandeur of All Under Heaven, and, critically, she was an artist under Xia Group’s Starlight Agency. Since Xia Group was funding this film, Shen Qiang was the heavy favorite to be chosen from every angle.

However, Yao Shu’er didn't mind; participating in the Picture Mirror audition was guaranteed to generate more attention and news. If she performed exceptionally well during the audition, she might truly have a chance to work with Director Wu in the future. The fact that Director Wu had invited her to audition was, in a way, already an affirmation of her talent.

Footsteps sounded nearby. Yao Shu’er turned to look and saw Park So-hee, a star who had traveled all the way from Korea for the audition.

Park So-hee smiled and greeted her in halting Mandarin, her manner humble and courteous, showing the deference of a junior to a senior.

"Please take care of me as well."

Yao Shu’er quickly stood up and returned the greeting kindly, secretly admiring So-hee’s composure after being met with the cold shoulder by Shen Qiang.

Whether it was Shen Qiang or the universally adored but still modest Park So-hee, Yao Shu'er could accept the possibility of losing to either of them.

But try as she might, she couldn't understand why An Hui-ni was also present at this event!

Yao Shu’er shot a cold glance toward An Hui-ni, who was putting on makeup by the adjacent mirror.

Park So-hee was offering her greetings, but An Hui-ni responded distractedly, casually finishing her touch-ups on her reflection.

This woman, who had used such base tactics to frame Xia Mo and was already despised by the world, should have had no future in the entertainment industry, yet she had managed to stage a comeback and secure a spot at this audition.

The rumors circulating in the industry must be true: An Hui-ni had certainly used her body to seduce some powerful, wealthy businessman.

"I heard you are Yin Xia Mo’s friend?" As if sensing the gaze directed her way, An Hui-ni set down her powder case and looked back at Yao Shu’er with a half-smile.

Yao Shuer knitted her brow, glancing around. Confrontation with this sort of person in public did not strike her as wise.

"I heard she was invited to today's audition as well," An Huini inquired under the guise of curiosity. "Since you're her friend, do you think she'll show up?"

"An Huini, it's been a while, and yet you haven't changed a bit?" Yao Shuer offered a gentle smile.

"Oh really? I was starting to worry I was getting old!" An Huini chirped, happily examining herself in the mirror for quite some time, seemingly oblivious to the underlying meaning in Yao Shuer's words. Then, she suddenly sighed, her tone laced with mock regret. "It's a pity about Yin Xiamo, though. She's completely different now. I hear her brother died, and she went completely mad. What an actress she was—able to twist black into white. How could she suddenly go insane? I truly hope I get to see her again."

Before An Huini had even finished speaking, a near-sensational clamor erupted from outside the makeup lounge. The noise was so immense, it sounded as if every reporter had simultaneously hit a fever pitch of excitement. The cacophony of rising and falling shouts exploded, making it impossible to discern any clear sound.

It must be Director Wu and his entourage! An Huini jolted, abandoning her sparring match with Yao Shuer. She hastily smoothed her hair and stood up, her face plastered with an expression of deep reverence. Just as that awe-filled light began to shine brightly in her eyes, the door to the makeup lounge swung open—

"Director Wu!" An Huini’s eager smile instantly froze solid upon seeing the person standing in the doorway!

The woman was draped in a white gown, held loosely in the arms of the Young Master of the Ou Group. She possessed a mane of thick, curling hair like seaweed, was alarmingly thin, yet strikingly beautiful.

That person was none other than—Yin Xiamo!

Summer of Foam III