Chapter 4

Adrian and I got together seven years ago.

Other male celebrities, freshly famous, avoided relationships and rumors like the plague.

But he, on the very night he won the Best Actor award, at the peak of his career.

Held up his trophy on that grand, public stage, and the first words out of his mouth were:

"First, I have to thank my girlfriend…"

He announced, with passionate devotion:

"My sweetheart is an incredibly talented violinist."

His fans screamed protests.

Overnight, Adrian lost over a million followers.

Yet he remained unrepentant, immediately posting publicly:

"If I have to choose, I can give up my career, but I will never give up the one I love."

His agency was furious, practically spitting blood, and completely blacklisted him for over half a year.

After being blacklisted, Adrian lost his career, his future.

He became the laughingstock of the entire industry.

At his lowest point, dazed and disoriented, he got into a car accident.

He lay in the hospital for over ten days, weak and frail, calling me.

But he never once saw me, not even for a moment.

Several months later, his stomach ulcer flared up, sending him back to the hospital.

That night, he called me repeatedly. The man who’d always been so wild and carefree, for the first time, pleaded with me like a lost child.

He said, "Sweet Iris, I’m in pain. Please come see me."

At the time, I was sitting in my practice room, working on a piece.

My fingers, mid-strum on the violin strings, barely paused.

I asked, my voice flat, "Is it critical? Is your life in danger?"