Entertainment: A song that brought his deceased wife back to life.

The best ENT specialist in Beijing is surnamed Lu. He is 62 years old and has been performing laryngeal surgeries for 38 years. Celebrities in the industry call him "Immortal Lu" in private because hearing him say "It's okay" is more reassuring than receiving a get-out-of-jail-free card.

But today, Lu Shenxian's brows were furrowed into a tight knot.

The real-time images from the laryngoscope were projected onto the screen in front of me. The two vocal cords were severely swollen and deformed, with congested and red surfaces, and obvious accumulation of edema fluid under the mucous membrane. The edges were rough, as if they had been sanded.

"What have you been up to lately?" Lu Shenxian asked, taking off his gloves. His voice was rather unpleasant.

Luo Qianyu sat in the examination chair, her lips pressed into a straight line, and remained silent.

Xu Qing stood behind her and answered for her.

"Extreme high-note development training, lasting approximately ten days. Voice-warming aids without proper approval numbers may also be being used simultaneously."

Luo Qianyu suddenly turned to look at him, her pupils shrinking—she had never told him about the medicine.

Xu Qing didn't look at her; her gaze was fixed on the laryngoscope image on the screen.

His face was expressionless, but the knuckles of the hand resting on the back of the chair were completely white.

Lu Shenxian remained silent for a long while.

"Severe vocal cord edema and damage to the mucosa." He printed out the laryngoscopy report and placed it on the table. "Your vocal cords are currently in such a state that you can barely maintain normal speech in the low and mid-range registers, but the high registers have completely lost their elasticity."

Luo Qianyu dug her fingernails deep into her palm.

"How long will it take to recover?"

Lu Shenxian glanced at her, then at Xu Qing, and spoke after a long while.

"If you stop singing now, and with medication to reduce swelling and physical therapy, you can optimistically expect three to four weeks." He took off his reading glasses, his tone stern without any attempt to hide it. "But if you continue to sing high notes in this condition, even just once—vocal cord fibrosis is irreversible, and your high register will be completely ruined for life."

The consultation room remained quiet for a long time.

The humming of the air conditioner became particularly jarring.

"Three to four weeks..." Luo Qianyu's voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, "but the recording of the sixth episode of 'I Am a Singer' is in just five days."

Lu Shenxian pushed the report in front of her: "Then you choose. Do you want this competition, or do you want your voice for the rest of your life?"

As Luo Qianyu walked out of the hospital, she didn't say a word.

The October wind in Beijing carried a dry chill, making her hair fly wildly. She clutched the laryngoscopy report in her hand, the paper crumpled.

Xu Qing walked beside her without saying a word.

The two walked in silence for almost ten minutes.

Luo Qianyu suddenly stopped.

How did you know I took the medicine?

"Besides tissues, there were also foil-wrapped medicine bottles in the trash can." Xu Qing's tone was frighteningly flat. "There was no drug approval number, and the manufacturer's information was printed on the inner layer. It's an underground workshop that makes sports supplements."

Luo Qianyu closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You know everything."

"I knew it not sooner."

These words were like a blunt knife, piercing solidly into Luo Qianyu's chest.

She realized it. Xu Qing wasn't blaming her; he was blaming himself.

Luo Qianyu suddenly grabbed his collar and pulled him in front of her.

"No. Don't use that tone. Didn't you say you'd be there for me even if the sky falls? You said it yourself. What does my decision to court disaster have to do with you—"

"It has nothing to do with me." Xu Qing looked down at her, his voice very soft. "I know better than you why you went to practice that junk."

Luo Qianyu's hand froze.

"You want to prove you're not my vassal. You want to shut the whole world up. You want to win this time purely with your voice." Xu Qing said, word by word, "Half of these thoughts were planted in your head by those maggots online, and the other half—"

He didn't finish speaking.

Because Luo Qianyu loosened her grip on his collar and hugged him tightly and fiercely.

She was trembling all over.

"I don't want to just be someone who follows behind you." She pressed her face tightly against his chest, her voice hoarse and distorted. "When you stand on the mountaintop, everyone looks up at you. When I stand next to you, they only see your shadow covering me completely."

"I'm not reconciled."

"I'm so unwilling to accept this."

Xu Qing raised his hand and placed his palm on the back of her head.

He didn't say "You're already very good," because such insincere comfort would only make Luo Qianyu feel worse.

He didn't say "don't care about those comments," because he himself couldn't even turn a blind eye to the children in the Ichiro area, so why should she be expected to turn a blind eye to the malice that had pierced her heart?

The wind swirled around them. The automatic doors of the hospital lobby opened and closed behind them, closed and opened again.

"Let's go home," Xu Qing said.

"...I don't want to go back."

"Go home and cry, there are paparazzi outside."

Luo Qianyu lifted her head from his embrace and, sure enough, saw a furtive figure across the street holding up a mobile phone.

She instinctively wiped her face with the back of her hand, then realized what a mess her mascara had made of.

"You're only telling me now?!"

"I saw you when you picked me up, but I didn't want to interrupt you."

"Xu Qing, are you even human?!"

He grabbed her hand and quickly walked towards the roadside.

Luo Qianyu was pulled so hard she stumbled, and it took her a couple of steps to catch up. She cursed as she ran, but he held her hand so tightly she couldn't pull a finger away.

It was already 3 p.m. when I got home.

Luo Qianyu changed her clothes, washed her face, and sat on the sofa, hugging a cushion and lost in thought.

The phone screen lit up and then dimmed, then lit up again. She didn't take it.

She didn't even need to look to know that those online trolls wouldn't stop just because she was in the hospital. On the contrary, Deep Sea Capital's specialty was taking advantage of someone's weakness to destroy them.

really.

7:23 PM.

It ranked fourth on the trending searches, a new term that suddenly appeared.

#Luo Qianyu suspected of having a sore throat after hospital examination#

The accompanying photo was taken candidly in the hospital corridor today—half her face in profile, no makeup, mask pulled down to her chin, looking incredibly haggard. The angle of the shot was so tricky that it could only be a follow-up shot, not a chance encounter.

The first comment in the comment section is about buying good stuff.

"Hilarious! Can't hit high notes so they say their voice is hoarse? Isn't that just a fig leaf for not being good enough?"

"Xu Qing just achieved legendary status, and she comes here right away. Is she trying to save face on the show and save face beforehand?"

"To put it bluntly, she's unworthy of her position. How did Xu Qing even fall for her? He's really shameless."

Luo Qianyu looked at the candid photo—she recognized it; it was taken by the person holding up their phone outside the automatic doors in the hospital lobby.

She opened the comments section and scrolled down from the first one. Her fingers moved mechanically, one comment at a time, her face expressionless.

When she reached the thirty-seventh item, she gently placed her phone on the coffee table.

Then she went into the bathroom, closed the door, turned on the tap, squatted next to the toilet, dry heaved for a while, and spat out a small clump of phlegm mixed with blood. Then she slid down to the floor against the cold tile wall, covered her face, and cried until her whole body convulsed.

She cried silently.

The doctor said that crying loudly can also increase the burden on the vocal cords.

This fact is crueler than any negative comment.

She no longer even had the right to cry out loud.

I don't know how much time passed, but the bathroom door was pushed open.

Xu Qing leaned against the door frame, looking down at Luo Qianyu, who was curled up in a ball.

Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her nose was terribly red, and her lips had deep teeth marks from biting them for so long.

"Xu Qing," her voice was broken and almost incoherent, "I've ruined myself."

"I've ruined the path you paved for me."

Xu Qing slowly squatted down.

He stretched out his right hand, which was wrapped in gauze, and used his thumb to wipe away the crisscrossing tear tracks on her face, with a touch as light as if he were touching a thin piece of paper.

Listen carefully.

Luo Qianyu looked at him with her swollen, tear-filled eyes.

"Vocal cord edema, not that your vocal cords are gone." Xu Qing's voice was low, each word hitting her ears. "What Lu Shenxian said was that you can't sing high notes, not that you can't sing at all. Your high range is temporarily disabled, but your mid and low ranges are perfectly fine."

Luo Qianyu looked at him blankly.

Xu Qing wiped away her last tear, then stood up and scooped her up from the ground.

"Who told you that singing has to involve hitting high notes?"