The soft morning sun spilled over the city like melted gold, warming the amusement park and its surroundings. It was the second day of Bai Zhiqi's appearance, and already, the space near the archway beside the central fountain had become known for something more than rides and food stalls—it had become a stage.
Today, she wore a sky-blue hanfu, embroidered with subtle silver threads that shimmered when she moved. The sleeves were long and flowing, giving the illusion of clouds trailing behind her as she walked. Her veil remained, hiding her face, preserving her mystery, but the aura around her had changed. She didn't just look elegant—she looked untouchable.
Xiao Lin, standing to the side with a simple ponytail and a calm face, had become accustomed to the curious glances. She'd even started directing people where to stand for better view. The instrument had already been placed—a guzheng again, but today the sound would be different.
As Bai Zhiqi sat and adjusted the strings, the crowd began to gather once more. Parents holding ice cream cones for children, teens with phones ready to record, elderly couples whispering about her beauty. She let the noise fade, breathing deeply, hands poised above the strings.
Then she played.
Unlike yesterday's melancholic flow, today's song was crisp, sharp—yet graceful. It was a piece filled with hidden fire. Each pluck of the string felt like a pulse against the air. Those who listened closely could almost feel the restrained power behind every note. There was no doubt about it: this wasn't just art. It was intention. She was drawing someone out with every sound.
Onlookers began whispering again. Many had returned after seeing her viral video last night. She'd become a sensation overnight, dubbed "The Veiled Musician" by netizens.
"She's even better than yesterday."
"Do you think she's someone famous in disguise?"
"I heard she's performing for someone… maybe a lover?"
"No, I think she's telling a story. Listen carefully—it's like… longing."
Back in the car parked subtly across the plaza, Han Su sat with tinted windows rolled up. He watched quietly as she played, her form unwavering, her message louder than words. After a while, he took his phone and dialed.
"She's doing exactly what she said," he reported, his voice low. "Today's piece is more intense. She's drawing attention fast. Comments are flooding the net again."
A pause.
"Yes, sir. She'll reach Bai Lanyue at this rate."
From his end, Ji Yanluo didn't respond immediately, but when he did, his voice was cool. "Make sure she's safe. But do not interfere. This is her move."
Han Su nodded, watching as the crowd swelled. Reporters had arrived, disguised as visitors, taking candid photos from behind bushes and lamp posts.
The performance ended in a long, lingering note that seemed to hang in the air. As her fingers left the strings, the crowd erupted into applause—thunderous, heartfelt, almost desperate.
She didn't bow. She simply rose, lifted her sleeves, and walked away—veiled and mysterious, her presence still echoing in their minds.
"She's unreal…" someone murmured.
"Do you think we'll see her again tomorrow?"
Xiao Lin followed closely, giving a small nod to those who greeted her. Once they turned the corner into a less crowded area, Bai Zhiqi finally exhaled. Her hands trembled slightly from the intensity.
"You were brilliant again today," Xiao Lin whispered, unable to hide her awe.
Bai Zhiqi offered no reply—just a faint nod. But in her chest, her heart pounded—not from nerves, but from certainty.
Bai Lanyue would hear of her now.
And when she did… she would come.