Incantation (Thanks to Leng Lingxin for gifting diamond)

  At noon, I finally calmed down and entered the gallery. Only a little boy was sitting at the worktable, in a quiet corner, without any disturbing figures, which was great. As soon as he saw me, the little boy looked up, "Sister Xia, you're here! Today is relatively free, I want to color this sketch of Cheng Ge, huh? Where's Cheng Ge? Why didn't he come with you?"

  My face slightly sank, but I didn't want Little Tong to notice anything, so I just faintly said: "He's not coming."

  The little one didn't ask again, and buried her head in the painting. But my line of sight couldn't move away from that sketch, I have to say, the little one's level is much higher than when she came for an interview, capturing his spirit very accurately.

  Tangible things can be driven away, but intangible ones... are hard to shake off. Just like when working in the gallery on an afternoon, I would unconsciously glance at that corner; just like returning home in the evening, even though it's usually quiet, yet feeling a suffocating silence indoors; just like accidentally walking into the wrong room and seeing that book "Behavioral Psychology of Crime" left on the chair, picking it up to continue reading till midnight; just like getting up in the morning to change clothes, finding the theater ticket in my jacket pocket, thinking there's still one more not with me.

  For several days in a row, it was overcast with north winds of 2-3 levels and cold air coming. On Saturday night, it started raining, the wind was howling loudly, but on Sunday when I went out, I saw that the overcast sky had turned mostly cloudy.

  Jiang Yan drove to the gallery herself, originally not intending to watch that stage play, but she couldn't help but tidy up and go along. On the way there, Jiang Yan's eyes sparkled with joy as she told me that all the tickets for the first performance had been sold out, and the tickets for the next few performances she had pre-sold online were also sold out. She said I had a share of credit in this, because she had used the promotional illustration I painted as a live advertisement on the internet.

  What I heard made me secretly shocked, after the city forum post that night, although there was no follow-up, but it's hard to guarantee whether the police have already listed Xing Guang She as a key investigation object. Suppose, just suppose, once confirmed and convicted, wouldn't I become an accomplice?

  The back suddenly felt cool and cold sweat broke out.

  It occurred to me that the night before, I had a discussion with Chu Gaocheng, and in the end, he deduced that the person who posted on the forum was not from Xing Guang She. His judgment was basically 90% correct. Feeling slightly relieved, I casually asked: "Has President Jiang heard about what happened on the city forum a few days ago?"

  I thought Jiang Yan would cover it up, but I saw her smile lightly and say: "Are you referring to that hot post? Later, others told me about it. Xia Zhu, if it's a good thing, then we should be happy for them, don't you think?"

  From her smile, I couldn't tell if she was the one who initiated this matter. If it were him, perhaps I could see through it a bit. My abilities are too shallow after all. In any case, as long as Xing Guang Society isn't that Yan returning, they're just opportunists in this matter.

  Upon arrival at the theater entrance, I was shocked by the surging crowd. The entrance was packed to the point of being impassable, and as soon as the car stopped, a group of people rushed over to surround us. Jiang Yan furrowed her brow slightly and said to me, "Let's not get out of the car for now, I'll call security personnel."

  The phone call didn't take long, and soon a group of strong and muscular men in uniform came over. As the car door opened, dozens of microphones were thrust forward, with various reporters firing off questions left and right. If it weren't for the security personnel holding them back, I'm guessing Jiang Yan and I would have been overwhelmed. In comparison, Jiang Yan seemed very calm and composed. Just as we were about to enter the theater, she turned around and smiled at the crowd, saying: "Thank you everyone for your love and support of our Starlight Society. After this performance, we will be releasing a series of illustrated books on an irregular basis, all created by this beautiful illustrator standing beside me. All the excitement will be presented in due time."

  I turned my gaze, when did I agree to create this illustration book? But Jiang Yan smiled gently at me, pulled my hand and walked into the theater. When the noise of the crowd subsided, she said: "This idea was thought of on a whim, it was announced without asking for your opinion first. I have a premonition that this will be an excellent idea, Xia Zhu, you'd better prepare to become a famous painter."

  Is being forced to flee to the mountains what I'm feeling right now? Originally, when I found out that the screenwriter was using those murder cases as material to modify the script, I had already thought of quitting. But because of contractual constraints, I couldn't escape. Now, I'm even more deeply entrenched and thoroughly tied to Xing Guang Corporation. Perhaps Jiang Yan was right, after today I might become famous overnight, but this isn't the way I wanted to achieve fame.

  Jiang Yan treated me like a distinguished guest, sending me all the way to the VIP area before leaving. Looking around, this is the closest position to the front of the stage, with only three or four people seated, and half of the seats still empty. Turning back to look at the audience seats separated from us, it was a sea of black, with every face filled with excitement and curiosity. I'm afraid that more than half of the people who came here are not because they love theater, but because of human nature's inferiority complex to pry into gossip.

  She turned her head back, and some people had already arrived in the VIP area. The director and screenwriter also walked over together. After finding my own seat and sitting down, I glanced at the empty seats beside me.

  It's hard to say whether I feel relieved or disappointed in my heart. On the way here, I was still anxious, but now I just feel empty.

  It's been four days since that morning when they parted ways, and he hasn't shown up again, nor has there been any other news. The "curse" he uttered as he left has become an invisible restraint. Just like this moment, looking at the empty space, it's hard not to think of him.

  Before the play started, Jiang Yan came back and nodded at me before sitting down with the screenwriters.

  Although I had already read the script, it was my first time watching the stage play in person. The visual experience was different, but my attention was focused on the details. As I watched intently, someone seemed to ask beside my ear, "Do you want coffee?" I subconsciously declined politely: "No need, thank you." It wasn't until two seconds later that I felt something was off, turned my head sideways, and froze, my whole body stiffening.

  "What's wrong? Haven't seen each other for a few days and you can't even recognize me." The gentle tone, the familiar curve of the mouth... That person who I thought wouldn't appear, I didn't even notice when he sat down beside me.

  I hesitated for a moment and asked in a low voice: "Chu Gaocheng, how did you end up here?"

  He furrowed his brow and answered irrelevantly, "I'm used to your previous way of addressing me. From now on, just call me by my name, no need for the surname, it sounds awkward." I didn't respond, and he continued, "One ticket for a cup of coffee, you won't lose out."

  Then, in the next moment, a cup of white coffee was stuffed into my hand, the one he liked to drink, and his hands were empty.

  I'm not a coffee lover, always feeling bitter and astringent. The temperature of the cup is inversely proportional to my hand, warm when covered. But then he said, "Why don't you drink it? The flavor will change if it gets cold."

  She furrowed her brow, ignoring his voice. But in just a few minutes, the low hum of his voice came again: "Little Tong said you think it's bitter, so I added sugar." Her heart skipped a beat - was this his way of making amends? She lifted the lid off the cup and took a light sip; her taste buds still reacted to the bitterness at first, but after swirling it around, the bitterness and astringency gave way to a hint of sweetness.

  A cup of coffee, three flavors, one life.

  After that, neither of them spoke again, quietly watching the performance on stage. For some reason, a sense of melancholy arose, both on and off stage, portraying two different lives. Who knows what the other person truly feels in their heart? Even the mastermind behind this play, the screenwriter, is just an observer from below the stage; he can manipulate the plot of the drama, but cannot control people's hearts.

  So when the play ended, a loud "cheat" echoed throughout the venue, and things began to spiral out of control. The plot did not unfold as described in the forum posts, and tonight's performance was just a romantic drama between the male and female leads. Many people who came for the "Yan Gui Lai" post felt deceived and started to get angry. Another voice shouted: "Where is Yan Da Xia? We want to see Yan Da Xia."

  I turned my head to look at the few people in the VIP seats, except for Jiang Yan who was slightly frowning, the rest of them had darkened expressions.

  His hand suddenly tightened, "Follow me closely." Gao Cheng gave a low command and pulled my hand to one side. But before we could walk far, the crowd's emotions became even more agitated, some people even rushed out of their seats towards the stage, and some of the audience who were leaving were squeezed, by the time security personnel appeared, the scene was already chaotic.

  We were almost instantly engulfed in the crowd, and when Gao Cheng's hand was suddenly separated from mine by someone, I panicked for a moment. I looked up at him, his lips moving as he said something, but it was drowned out by the noise of the crowd. In an instant, the distance between us had grown far apart.

  There's an ominous premonition that something will go wrong here.

  The moment the thought flashed, I was squeezed by the crowd to retreat to the edge of the stage, and the figure in front of the high wall had already disappeared. The feeling of unease grew stronger, and suddenly someone kicked my calf, hurting so much that I fell forward, and just as I was about to fall, my arm was hooked from the side, I turned around in surprise, stunned, and it was Jiang Yan.

  She mouthed the question, "Nothing's wrong, right?" I shook my head and stood up with her hand. It was only then that I noticed the security personnel had all gathered here to form a protective wall. A group of people walked around the stage and into the dressing room, where the screenwriter was yelling with a pale face, "How did it turn out like this?" The director also looked gloomy and said in a low voice, "The first scene already got such negative news, who the hell is Yan Guirui?"

  After Jiang Yan let go of me, I only heard her humming: "When you take the liberty of borrowing the east wind, you should have psychological preparation."

  The screenwriter and director turned to me with a hint of surprise, Jiang Yan said: "Xia Zhu is one of us, no need for awkwardness." I couldn't help but smile wryly, my gaze fell and caught a glimpse of bright red on the ground, I hastily looked up: "Director Jiang, you're injured?"

  She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then looked down and saw the bloodstains on her feet. Her face turned pale instantly. The next moment, her body fell backwards, and I quickly supported her, only to see her weak and sorrowful eyes, fragile expression, "Help me call an ambulance..."