The male commentator froze on the spot. "This..."
A strange feeling rose in his heart. It felt as if someone had carefully designed everything beforehand, like an invisible hand arranging every step perfectly, creating this unbelievable scene. But that was impossible. Impossible...
Shuying remained silent. She listened quietly as the production team spoke through her earpiece. "We did our best to find the woman in the white dress, the one who told you that story back then. She'll be arriving soon."
After hearing those words, Shuying simply hummed in acknowledgment, but disbelief still filled her eyes. For the first time in a long while, waves stirred violently inside her heart. Impossible. It couldn't be such a coincidence. It simply couldn't.
Meanwhile, the production team informed the audience. One minute passed. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Then, a middle-aged woman around forty years old slowly walked onto the stage.
Time had erased much of her former elegance. She looked older, tired, and lonely. A lingering melancholy hung around her like a shadow. It was precisely this sadness that Ye had once noticed years ago.
The moment Shuying saw her, she recognized her instantly. The woman was still wearing a white dress, almost the same style as fifteen years ago, and she still stood there the same way. Only now, fifteen years had passed.
"My name is Sheng Yue." She spoke softly, visibly nervous. "I never imagined I would become part of your life story. Perhaps... this is the greatest tide my ordinary life has ever experienced."
She didn't dare meet Shuying's eyes directly; she was afraid. Afraid that brilliance would burn her. This girl, no, this woman shone too brightly.
When the production team first contacted her, she had confirmed repeatedly. Was it really Yu Shuying? The international superstar? She couldn't believe it. She was merely a grain of dust.
Yet more than ten years ago, she had unknowingly brushed past the clouds. No. Perhaps from another perspective, she had witnessed those clouds rise into the sky and cover the entire world.
"It's you." Yu Shuying looked at her quietly and nodded.
Fifteen years later, that person hadn't truly changed. Only older, and the sadness around her had deepened. This woman had once become one of the inspirations behind Yu Shuying's songwriting.
Back then, she had felt pain. Loneliness. A wounded soul hidden beneath a quiet appearance. Those emotions became lyrics. Became music. But was all of this really planned from the beginning?
"What happened?" Shuying looked directly at Sheng. Her gaze felt capable of burning through appearances and seeing truth itself.
Sheng lowered her head, then raised it again. Her eyes slowly drifted into memory. "A man dressed very ordinarily approached me. He said if I helped him tell a story to a child... if I pretended to be someone carrying sadness inside... he would pay me. He wanted me to stand near the Lake. When I got there... he told me I naturally carried a melancholy temperament, then he told me a story. A story about a girl whose heart had become so disappointed with life... that she finally walked into the sea. His narration felt real. Too real. Without realizing it... I entered that story completely. And afterward... I told it to you."
Sheng didn't need to continue; as everyone already knew what happened afterward because the footage had just played. Little Shuying listened, observed, and felt. Then, she returned home, wrote lyrics, and watched her drunken father bring her home.
Shuying suddenly felt something inside her collapse. The shield she had built with pride shook violently.
"You don't seem like someone capable of writing that song..." She spoke softly while confused.
The thinking. The conversation. The understanding of emotions. She knew Ye too well. Too familiar. It didn't fit. It shouldn't fit. He spent his days around rough people speaking crude words. How could someone like that...
Beside her, Sheng gave a bitter smile. "Actually... When he spoke to me... His thinking was very clear. His words were organized and calm. There was a feeling about him... When he told that story... I felt sympathy. As though... He wasn't telling someone else's story. He was telling his own."
The moment Sheng said those words, Shuying froze.
The two commentators froze.
The audience froze.
Everyone looked toward the new footage appearing on screen.
Late at night. Cold wind. Darkness.
Little Shuying is only five years old. After returning from the Lake, she quietly locked herself inside her bedroom. Then, she began writing. She wrote carefully and patiently over and over.
In front of her sat a painting her mother had made, a girl in white running toward the ocean. Inside Little Shuying's mind lived the story from the woman in white. Now, she had material, emotion, and meaning. It felt as though fate itself had handed her every missing piece needed for creation.
She wrote, changed words, rewrote lines, and adjusted details. Again. Again. Again.
Beneath the quiet light, the little girl glowed, like a small star refusing to disappear.
Downstairs, Ye crouched beside an electric scooter, charging it. With a bottle of liquor resting in his hand, he took silent drinks beneath the darkness.
At that moment, countless viewers questioned him. Headlines exploded. Comments flooded the screen. Malicious guesses appeared endlessly.
"Depressed? Is something wrong mentally?"
"Is this the beginning of complete decline?"
"What exactly is this man thinking?"
"How does someone like him raise a daughter like Little Shuying?"
"Look at her concentration."
"Her seriousness."
"She's only five years old."
"How can a child have this level of focus?"
"Exactly."
"How can someone like him raise someone like her?"
Inside the Humanities Education Selected Course, Professor Chen adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses. Her expression carried scrutiny. Disappointment. Originally, after hearing that song, she had thought Yu Ye possessed genuine literary depth. Real talent. But now, an alcoholic? What qualities could a broken alcoholic possibly possess?
Professor Chen immediately typed a comment onto the screen.
[Did everyone forget Little Shuying's mother? What if she taught the child? Yu Ye behaved normally before meeting the kindergarten teacher. After all, he once worked at a major company. But afterward, his decline became obvious. With his current ability and methods, I don't believe he could create this educational environment. Someone else influenced Little Shuying.]
After posting, students throughout the classroom nodded.
"That makes sense."
"He doesn't look capable."
"He's always carrying alcohol."
"He even drinks while charging his scooter."
"Other than appearance... he doesn't seem remarkable."
"Meanwhile, Little Shuying became more mature."
"Studied harder."
"Grew stronger."
"The contrast is unbelievable."
"Little Shuying feels like a child blessed by heaven."
Professor Chen's comment quickly climbed trending topics.
At the show, Wen shared the same opinion. "The Liu family shaped this outcome."
Commentator Nana nodded.
But Cheng didn't. He sat quietly. Lost. Because somewhere inside, a strange feeling slowly grew. Perhaps, Ye wasn't as simple as everyone believed.
Sheng also remained silent. She neither agreed nor disagreed. Among everyone she had met, except Yu Shuying, no one else could compare to Yu Ye when he became serious. These contestants. These writers. These intellectuals. None of them had that feeling. But Yu Ye, that seemingly worn-down man, had it.
She still remembered. The quiet shoreline. The wind. The night. That man standing there, telling the story of Seabed. His voice. His understanding. His calm thinking. Everything felt dreamlike. Fascinating and contradictory. His shabby clothes didn't match his presence. His tired appearance didn't match his mind. It felt strange, as though a hermit had hidden himself among ordinary people.
And so, she trusted her instincts. Deep inside, she never forsook Yu Ye.