Dreams of Starlight：chapter 1

For a long time after Cen Feng's death, Xu Zhaixing had the same dream.

In the dream, a young boy sat in a closed room, flipping through a book. Charcoal burned silently at his feet, consuming the last of the oxygen. Xu Zhaixing stood outside the door, desperately pounding on the invisible barrier.

But she was helpless.

Cen Feng looked up, smiled at her, and then threw the book into the fire pit. The flames licked upward. Xu Zhaixing watched as he was consumed by the fire, then woke up sobbing, her whole body trembling with pain.

Cen Feng had been gone for half a year.

In the ever-changing entertainment industry, the name Cen Feng was seldom mentioned anymore. Even when he had just passed away, his news had dominated major headlines for an entire week, as if the whole world was grieving for him.

Back then, all her friends who knew she liked Cen Feng came to comfort her.

They recounted everything Cen Feng had gone through, sympathizing not only with him but also with his fans. In the end, they told Xu Zhaixing to move on, saying, after all, he was just an idol who "had no fate with you and me, only sustained by our money."

In the past, Xu Zhaixing, who would fiercely defend Cen Feng, said nothing in response.

People are forgetful. Netizens who had once condemned the industry fell silent under capital influence, and even his fans found new idols. Gradually, Xu Zhaixing also stopped mentioning him, as if she had never loved a boy with all her might.

Yet sometimes, when she zoned out, she would find tears streaming down her face when she came back to her senses.

A colleague asked her, "Zhaixing, what's wrong?"

What was wrong with her?

She didn't know either; it just felt like her heart ached, empty as if a piece had been carved out with a knife.

...

In the evening, a light rain began to fall. Aunt Zhu, the nurse caring for her father, called, "Zhaixing, are you coming home for dinner? I made chicken soup for your dad."

Xu Zhaixing dragged her makeup case down the stairs. "I'm staying overnight for a bride's makeup gig. The bride's house is in the suburbs, so I won't be back. You and dad eat together. Oh, Aunt Zhu, there's some honey in the delivery box downstairs, brought by a friend from abroad. Take it and mix a bowl for my dad to drink before bed."

Aunt Zhu agreed and hung up.

Since her father's sudden stroke seven years ago, he had been bedridden. In the early years, Xu Zhaixing took care of him herself. In the past two years, as her career took off and she earned some money, she finally hired a nurse for him.

The rain wasn't heavy, and she dragged her makeup case to the street to hail a cab.

While waiting at a traffic light, a woman nearby was holding a child and talking on the phone, "I've already submitted the phase two financial report. How can we change the budget now? Mr. Chen has already approved it!"

She held the child and an umbrella, struggling to keep her phone steady. Finally, she put the little girl down, "Telling me this now won't help! What were you doing earlier?"

The little girl, three or four years old, was holding a yo-yo. Perhaps the rain made her hands slippery, and the yo-yo rolled away, bouncing along the crosswalk.

The little girl tottered after the yo-yo, while an SUV sped towards her, honking loudly. Her mother was still on the phone. Xu Zhaixing looked up after replying to a message and instinctively rushed forward.

She only remembered pushing the little girl aside, feeling a sharp pain in her waist, as if her internal organs had shifted. A metallic taste filled her mouth, and then she lost consciousness.

They say that before you die, the most important people and events of your life flash before your eyes. But in that moment of life and death, Xu Zhaixing didn't even have time to review her life; she just died in pain.

The crowd's screams, the child's cries, and the screech of brakes filled that rainy evening.

...

Xu Zhaixing had a dream.

She dreamt of many years ago when her mother hadn't died of esophageal cancer, and her father hadn't gone bankrupt and suffered a stroke. She lived a wealthy life that others envied, free to pursue her dreams.

She dreamt of her room filled with limited-edition Barbie dolls, the beautiful clothes she made for them, and the gold medal from the youth fashion design competition on her desk.

She dreamt of receiving an offer from the Royal Academy of Arts in her senior year of high school. Just as she was happily preparing to study abroad, her mother was diagnosed with late-stage esophageal cancer.

Her father's venture capital failed, losing millions, and they couldn't even afford her mother's treatment. The once friendly relatives turned their backs, including her second uncle, who had tricked her father into investing.

Her father sold the company's assets to pay for her mother's treatment, and she gave up studying abroad, taking the college entrance exam and getting into an art and design university in City B.

But her mother's illness was in the late stage, and no amount of money could save her. Her mother passed away, her father went bankrupt and had a stroke, becoming bedridden.

That year, Xu Zhaixing had just turned eighteen.

She had to shoulder all the family burdens.

She saw herself struggling in the mire. While her peers were enjoying love, food, travel, and idolizing celebrities, she faced debt collectors and bank loans, along with her father's medical bills.

She didn't want to give up her design dreams, working and studying simultaneously, feeling exhausted every day.

In her first year of college, one winter, she was late getting home because of a design assignment. Her bedridden father, wanting a drink of water, struggled to reach for a glass, knocking over a boiling water bottle.

When Xu Zhaixing got home, her father had already fainted from the pain. She called 120, and the doctor told her it was severe burns.

Xu Zhaixing remembered that it snowed that night.

She crouched in the hospital hallway, holding a stack of expensive medical bills, crying silently.

She couldn't hold on any longer.

She felt so, so tired.

She took a small knife from the fruit-cutting auntie in the next bed, planning to end her life in a quiet place.

That night, it snowed heavily and was particularly cold. She sat on the cold stone steps, crying and pressing the knife to her chest.

Opposite was a building with a huge LED screen.

Just as the light came on, the knife tip was about to pierce her heart.

Xu Zhaixing looked up in the white light and saw the boy on the LED screen.

He wore a white sweater, playing the piano, with soft black hair, like a noble and gentle prince, smiling in her direction.

Such a beautiful smile, like a ray of sunshine piercing the dark, cold night, warming her frozen, despairing heart.

Humans are indeed mysterious beings. The courage to commit suicide suddenly vanished. Frightened, she hurriedly dropped the knife, looking dazedly at the boy playing the piano.

The image on the LED screen lasted only a dozen seconds. No one knew how much strength those few seconds gave her in that cold, despairing night.

The boy playing the piano on the screen was Cen Feng, a newly debuted star, a gentle and smiling young man.

During those unbearable days, Cen Feng was the only light in her life.

No matter how difficult the situation, thinking of him helped her get through it.

With this light, she survived the most challenging times. Although she still had debts to pay and her father hadn't recovered, everything was improving, everything was full of hope.

Liking Cen Feng made her pale and powerless life colorful again.

She hoped one day she could stand before Cen Feng with her work, proudly telling him, "Brother, look, I did it."

She wanted to thank him, thank him for appearing, thank him for playing the piano for her, thank him for not letting her give up on herself, thank him for making her who she was.

But it turned out, this boy who had given her so much hope had already stepped into the abyss of death.

How ridiculous.

Always shouting to protect her brother, their beloved idol, but not knowing he had depression.

Not seeing the pain behind his forced smiles.

Still selfishly drawing strength from his smiles, clinging to an illusion.

The most ridiculous thing was that after the illusion shattered, she could do nothing for him but cry.

She would never see Cen Feng again.

The boy she had loved with all her life.