The whole morning, I was in a trance because of Irene's words. I could not remember how much coffee I had drunk, but all I could smell was Blue Mountain Coffee, and even when I breathed, it was sour and bitter.

My mind was wandering, right up until the afternoon, when I recorded music in the studio.

After I had performed the song four or five times, the director and music producer was still unsatisfied and Shawn, outside the room, had an even gloomier face.

In fact, after I got back, I'd practiced it many times every day, but they were still unsatisfied, thinking it was not pathetic enough to...