Chapter 33 He Knelt by the Bed, Tightly Holding Amelia's Hand
As more and more people spoke up, a small-scale discussion emerged—
I was there in person. Throughout the whole show, the best performance was actually "Yesterday Once More." Whether it was the song content or the singer's professional quality, it was the best of the entire event. But now when I watch the live stream clips, it seems pretty ordinary. Strange.
I was also in the audience. When I just got out, I was thinking about reviewing it, but then they showed me that thing. What's going on? Did something go wrong with the live stream?
I don't know. What about others? Did anyone else notice this problem?
Then it sparked a small discussion below—
"You guys are Lika's fans, right? I think the best performance was 'A Little Love'!"
"Yeah, although 'Yesterday Once More' was pretty good, it still can't compare to 'A Little Love.' Plus, Isabella isn't a professional singer, which makes this song even more impressive!"
"Right, Isabella is simply a genius!"
"Although I also prefer the style of 'Yesterday Once More,' there's no need to insist like this, right? Both songs are great. Why must 'Yesterday Once More' be better than 'A Little Love'?"
The audience member who was there replied again: "I'm not doing that. I'm just raising a legitimate question. Throughout this live stream, I loved both 'A Little Love' and 'Yesterday Once More,' but the situation at the venue was that 'Yesterday Once More' was better, especially that violin solo at the end—it was absolutely stunning. This clip doesn't show its effect at all!"
"Alright, we get it, you're Lika's fan. Stop talking. Can't all these internet users see for themselves? You think you're so special?"
That audience member had only been asking questions at first, but after being talked to like this, his rebellious streak kicked in.
He wrote a lengthy post, analyzing from various angles—stage, lighting, sound quality, and so on—in response to the online users.
After posting it, he kept waiting for replies, but no one replied to him.
When he scrolled back, he found his comment had been deleted.
Scrolling further back, all his other comments were gone too!
But he hadn't said anything offensive—he was just raising questions!
That audience member opened a private message to another audience member and sent a message.
Hello, I'm an audience member from "Voice of Heaven." The comments I just posted are all gone. How's your situation?
But as soon as he sent it, it showed that he had violated the site rules and was banned from speaking for 7 days.
He clicked on another audience member's profile and found they were also banned for 7 days.
If before he only had a bit of a rebellious streak, now this audience member was absolutely furious.
This is bullying!
No wonder hardly anyone was talking about this—everyone had been silenced.
He wasn't a pushover either. He immediately found an alternate account, contacted a bunch of people, and created a hashtag #YesterdayOnceMoreLiveSoundQuality#, concentrating efforts to hype up the buzz.
Just as the buzz was building.
Amelia looked at the message William had sent on her phone.
William: [Grandpa's condition isn't good. He wants to see you.]
Amelia gripped her phone tightly as an elderly figure appeared before her eyes.
Finn...
She remembered that when she and William got married, it was for Finn's sake.
That day, the two of them knelt by Finn's hospital bed. He held her hand and said to Finn: "Grandpa, I brought Amelia to see you."
"Amelia and I are getting married."
Although Finn was already seriously ill at the time, he still pointed at William and said: "If you don't truly like her, don't ruin her whole life. I don't need you to sacrifice yourselves!"
The Brown family started when Finn went into business, and it could be said that Finn was the cornerstone of the entire Brown Group.
As long as he spoke, everyone had to listen.
How could she not be moved?
That day, William swore by Finn's hospital bed that he truly liked her and would definitely treat her well.
But now...
Finally, Amelia closed her eyes.
Times had changed.
William had already asked for a divorce, and they had already been to the marriage registry.
Dragging it out and not telling Finn they were in the divorce cooling-off period was already the most she could do.
Anything more, she didn't plan to do and couldn't do.
With that thought, Amelia exited the message screen.
On the other side.
William sat in the back seat of the Bentley, looking at the message he'd sent on his phone.
Three minutes had passed.
She still hadn't replied.
William scrolled up and suddenly realized that the last time she'd replied to his message was before they went to the marriage registry.
He looked at the rain outside the window.
When was the last time he saw Amelia?
It seemed to be three days ago, at the hospital.
Her forehead was wrapped in gauze, and from start to finish, she had only said three sentences to him.
"What are you doing!"
"What happened?"
And when he was leaving, she called out—"William."
The first two weren't even directed at him alone.
Inexplicably, he suddenly missed her a little.
She had fallen down the stairs—he didn't know how she was doing.
His brow furrowed slightly.
William didn't know what was wrong with him.
Today he kept thinking of Amelia.
Flashing through his mind was that masked woman.
Perhaps it was because of that woman.
She made him remember the Amelia from before—bright, quick to cry and laugh.
The Bentley window was knocked on. William looked up and saw Isabella standing outside the car window.
"William!"
Isabella opened the car door and sat down beside him.
Instinctively, William put away his phone.
Isabella just glanced at it, seeming not to see anything, but as she turned to close the car door, a flash of hatred crossed her eyes.
When she turned back around, Isabella's face already wore a smile.
She asked with concern: "Sorry for troubling you to pick me up, William. Did you wait long?"
"Not really," William responded.
"That's good." Isabella said with a smile.
The driver started the car, carrying the two of them through the city's curtain of rain.
Isabella was talking about interesting things from the recording, and William listened half-heartedly.
Inexplicably, what kept appearing in his mind were the words the masked woman had said to him—"You should ask her what she said to me."
"...William, William?" Isabella's voice came through.
Only then did William snap back to attention.
He glanced at Isabella, indicating she should say what she wanted.
"William, what are you thinking about?" Isabella asked. "I can see you've been spacing out for a while now."
William looked at Isabella's face.
Pale, frail, looking pitiful.
Finally, he still spoke: "Today, what did you say to Lika?"