The performance at *Xinyue Pavilion* had ended, but the ripples it created were only just beginning.
By evening, the videos had already been shared across multiple platforms: *Weibo*, *Douyin*, and *Bilibili*. The hashtags were trending faster than anyone expected.
*#MysteryGuqinBeauty*
*#HiddenGeniusOfTheStreets*
*#ModernGuqinFairy*
Comments flooded in:
#"I've never heard a guqin played like that in real life. Who is she?"#
#"Her music… it felt like she was crying through the strings."#
#"It's like an ancient soul came alive in modern times. Can someone PLEASE identify her?"#
#"If Bai Lanyue is the light, this girl is the shadow — equally brilliant, just buried deeper."#
#"New fan here. I need her next performance ASAP."#
Speculations about her identity started to grow. Some even claimed she was a former student of a master, hiding her identity. Others thought it was a publicity stunt by a company.
But most were simply mesmerized by the woman in the blue hanfu, her veil hiding everything but the intensity in her eyes.
Back at Ji Yanluo's private study, *Han Su* stood before the man himself, tablet in hand.
"She performed for exactly sixteen minutes," Han Su said, swiping through video clips. "She chose Xinyue Pavilion, right at the park's peak hours. Clean, beautiful spot with natural foot traffic and high social media activity."
Ji Yanluo sat behind his desk, expression unreadable. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest as he watched a short clip on Han Su's tablet. It was Bai Zhiqi—no, Bai Zhi—seated gracefully, her fingers dancing across the guqin. The sunlight framed her like a vision from an older world.
"She didn't speak," Han Su continued. "Didn't give her name. Just played. Left right after the applause. But the net's going crazy."
"Expected," Ji Yanluo said calmly, his voice low and steady. "And Bai Lanyue?"
"No confirmed response yet. But it's only a matter of time. She's active online, and someone in her circle will notice the resemblance in style." Han Su paused. "Some netizens are already comparing them. Calling her 'The Forgotten Twin.'"
Ji Yanluo's lips lifted, almost imperceptibly. "Not bad for a first step."
"She did it elegantly," Han Su added. "Didn't force attention. Let the music speak. The netizens are doing the chasing.
"Good," Ji Yanluo said. "The hunter doesn't chase the deer. The deer runs into the trap."
There was a short silence as Han Su hesitated.
"One more thing, President Ji…" He swiped to a screenshot of a particularly viral post. "This one's been shared over fifty thousand times already. Someone slowed down the video to focus on her hands. They're saying her finger technique resembles Bai Lanyue's early competition style. Some suspect she could be a rival from her past."
Ji Yanluo looked at the screenshot, then closed his eyes for a second. "Let it spread."
"No interference?" Han Su asked.
Ji Yanluo opened his eyes again, sharper now. "No. The more questions they ask, the more curious Lanyue will become. She'll want to know who dares mimic her style so boldly."
"And when she does?"
Ji Yanluo stood and walked to the large window behind him. The city lights blinked below. Somewhere in those lights, Bai Zhiqi was weaving her path back to the top — one silent step at a time.
"When she does," he said quietly, "Zhiqi will be ready."
Han Su nodded, then bowed slightly. "I'll keep monitoring. If anything escalates—"
"You know what to do."
As Han Su left, Ji Yanluo stood there in silence, hands behind his back, gazing down at the glittering streets.
"Let the music play," he murmured. "Let the ghosts wake."