<h4>Chapter 106: Her First Death Anniversary</h4>
<strong>Trantor: </strong>As Studios <strong>Editor: </strong>As Studios
At night, Pei Ziheng would caress the wounds on her ankle with his slender fingers. “Xiao Ling, why make yourself suffer? If you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have treated you this way,” he said with a soft sigh.
She trembled in his arms, afraid that he would see through the pain that she was hiding, her hatred and disgust for him, and how desperate she was to escape this nightmare.
If he realized anything, he would torture her agonizingly.
Therefore, she never dared to write down the lyrics for her song.
She could only scream the lyrics repeatedly in her head. However, she had troubleposing the melody. Pei Ziheng once consulted professionals to analyze her manuscripts, yet psychologists and scientists had frowned and said that these were not music scores, but just a result of hallucinations driven by long-term captivity.
Thus, Pei Ziheng was cleared of his doubts.
She finished “The Caged Butterfly” bit by bit. It was the only sanctuary for her soul in the dark times she was imprisoned and humiliated. It was only while working on this song that she was able to be herself and express her feelings instead of being his puppet and pretending that she was a willing party despite being tortured from head to toe.
Xia Ling thought that this song was a major reason why she did not experience the full effects of Stockholm Syndrome under his influence. It represented her soul, which although miserable, was real.
At thatst concert, she stood on the stage, while hundreds of thousands of fans below were cheering for an encore.
Impulsively, she chose this song. At that moment, she just wanted to live for herself.
There was no musical apaniment.
She sang alone, pleasantly surprising the audience and leaving them amazed.
However, the irony was that when she was halfway into the song, the stage had a sudden power outage. In the dark, a sharp pain pierced through her back and she was subsequently pushed down from the stage by someone, leading to her death.
After her death, although her fans were ovee with grief, they were also regretful that she only managed to sing half of “The Caged Butterfly.” This half of the song was purely Xia Ling’s voice, not arranged or remixed beforehand.
Thus, many fans requested Imperial Entertainment to continue producing the song.
However, Imperial Entertainment did not give an official statement.
Or to be more precise, it was Feng Kun that chose to remain silent.
He was Xia Ling’s exclusive producer who she worked with all her life, and it was definitely his duty if “The Caged Butterfly” needed an arrangement. If he did not take a stand, no producer would have the guts or the ability to do so.
Xia Ling’s legacy, these few words weighed on everyone’s hearts.
Now, Feng Kun was back. He organized a press conference, stating—
“In the past, I did not dare to touch ‘The Caged Butterfly’ because it was thest song that Xiao Ling sang. It carries too much significance and despair. I had no confidence in making it a good song didn’t want to ruin it, so I went overseas to collect my thoughts. Now that I’m back, finishing this song for Xiao Ling is a responsibility that I cannot escape. I won’t say that I will perfect the song, but I will put myself in her shoes and restore the song to the best of my ability. The song will be arranged ording to her style.”
“Come on, don’t be so pretentious. The fact that he came back at this timing makes it obvious that he’s doing this to shift the publics’ attention from Xia Yu.” Sister Mai Na snorted as she watched the television with Xia Ling.
“He isn’t that kind of person,” Xia Ling said under her breath.
“You’re saying that as if you know him well.” Sister Mai Na sneered.
Xia Ling could only put up a bitter smile. How could she not though? Being music partners for a decade, the chemistry between them was unimaginable. Feng Kun knew her better, even more so than Pei Ziheng.
“I’m guessing that it was Pei Ziheng who called him back,” said Xia Ling sadly. Based on Feng Kun’s personality, since he had dered that Imperial Entertainment was not fit to be his employer, he would not have gone back of his own ord to help those who hurt her. With his status, the only person who could have summoned him back was Pei Ziheng. He must have yed dirty to make Feng Kun sumb to him.
Sister Mai Na looked at her in surprise. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to suddenly turn so smart! How did you guess? Boss has been sending people to keep track of their movements, and it was indeed Pei Ziheng who made Feng Kune back. It was said that Feng Kun was not willing to return, and had already tendered his resignation. I wonder what methods Pei Ziheng used to make hime back obediently.”
Xia Lingughed bitterly. She knew this would happen.
Pei Ziheng went to such great lengths just for Xia Yu.
Yet...
It was none of her business who Pei Ziheng valued now.
She cared more about her old friend Feng Kun and the making of “The Caged Butterfly.”
Not only her, but countless members of the public also paid close attention to the restoration of the song.
Feng Kun led a small team to analyze the manuscripts she left behind. Reportedly, the manuscripts were in a mess and fragmented. The details were either conflicting or had logic leaps, increasing the difficulty of recovering the manuscripts.
Rumor had it that when the legendary Diva Xia Ling wasposing this song, her mental health was in a bad condition.
It was not long before Feng Kun stopped his team from disclosing their progress to the public and declined all media interviews, focusing on the task on hand. No matter how hard the entertainment reporters tried to dig, they could not obtain any information about the progress of the song. The only legitimate piece of information was identally revealed by one of the team members.
“It has been taxing on Mr. Feng to produce this song, he would get so emotional that he could not form words during meetings.”
All of Xia Ling’s fans rted to him and left their good wishes on the official website one by one.
On this sad note, Diva Xia Ling’s first death anniversary was around the corner.
Lotusnterns, as well as white candles, and small daisies could be seen everywhere.
The radio station reyed her songs over and over again.
Even Sister Mai Na personally made seven lotusnterns and dragged Xia Ling along to a suburban riverside. She was a fan, an especially dedicated one at that. When she released the lotusntern into the water, she said her prayers while being on the verge of crying.
Xia Ling stood under a big willow tree, not knowing how tofort her.
A blood crescent moon hung in the sky as the dim moonlight cast a shadow over the earth, making it seem hazy and gloomy.
Sister Mai Na stood at the upper part of the river course and watched quietly as her lotusnterns floated further down the river into the sea of lotusnterns. Thousands of white petals carried candles, as light from the candles lit up the river.
“I have admired her since her debut,” said Sister Mai Na suddenly.
Xia Ling stiffened, before realizing that she was referring to her past life.
Sister Mai Na did not wait for her reaction and continued speaking, “At that point in time, I was still a small assistant with an insignificant sry, doing useless and trivial things. There were a few times when I thought I couldn’t carry on anymore until I heard her singing ying from a record yer in the streets.”