The autumn wind howled, causing the advertising boards above the stadium to rattle. Cleaners were dispersed, cleaning up the venue that could accommodate tens of thousands of people, which now lay empty and deserted. A giant poster of Cen Ye still hung in the most conspicuous place, while staff were in the process of taking it down.
Dressed in a black trench coat, Liu Xiaoqiao stood in the venue for a while, casually picked up a glow stick that no longer lit up, twirled it a few times in her hand, and then threw it away.
She looked up at the emptiness before her, as if she could still feel the frenzy of tens of thousands of fans singing, cheering, and weeping together the night before. But even she, now the executive agent of a pop megastar, couldn't help but feel a certain indescribable sense of loneliness upon seeing the desolation after such bustling prosperity.
