The soft hum of car tires rolled to a stop near the Jade Pavilion plaza. Dressed in an elegant pink colored trench coat, Bai Lanyue stepped out of the sleek Bentley, heels clicking against the cobblestone path. Her eyes swept over the wide-open square—lined with trees, children playing, vendors laughing, and crowds thinning.
But there was *no music*.
No crowd huddled around a guzheng player.
And most importantly—*no veiled woman*.
Her brows pinched together as she scanned the empty wooden platform that had become famous online over the past few days. A few leftover fans lingered near the edges, chatting in small groups, holding signs or playing back videos on their phones.
"She's gone," murmured her assistant beside her, glancing at the time. "According to the online comments, she ended her performance about fifteen minutes ago."
"Fifteen minutes…" Bai Lanyue's voice was quiet but laced with irritation.
She turned slowly, eyes still on the platform, expression unreadable. "So I missed her."
Behind her, a few of the remaining onlookers turned their heads, some nudging each other.
"Is that—?"
"Bai Lanyue?" a girl whispered, hastily pulling out her phone.
Another girl quickly opened her livestream app. "She came to see the mystery player?"
Lanyue didn't notice—or perhaps she didn't care. Her gaze was fixed on the stage, as if the veiled woman might suddenly appear from thin air again, fingers poised, melodies flowing like silk.
She had expected to feel... vindicated. That this person everyone was raving about was just another trend. A nobody playing dress-up.
Instead, she felt something else claw at her chest.
An ache. A memory. A resemblance she couldn't admit aloud.
Her lips pressed into a tight line. "Let's go."
But the moment she turned, a dozen phones discreetly snapped photos. A few fans even followed her at a distance, whispering excitedly.
***
Thirty minutes later, the internet was ablaze.
*#BaiLanyueAtJadePavilion*
*#MissPianoMeetsMysteryMusician?*
*#DidSheComeToRecruitHer? Or Confront Her?*
A fan account posted:
#"You guys. Bai Lanyue herself showed up at the Jade Pavilion today, minutes after the guzheng performer left. What's going on?! Look at her expression—she looked *pissed!*"#
Another fan commented:
#"Lanyue's pride doesn't sit well with competition. Looks like she's trying to check the threat in person."#
And then came the photo—a candid shot of Bai Lanyue standing at the edge of the platform, her posture cold and poised, framed by the now-empty stage. The caption read:
*"Too late, Miss Piano. The storm already passed."*
Likes and shares exploded.
Theories spun wildly—some saying it was rivalry, others predicting a collaboration. But most just buzzed with curiosity over the strange tension that hovered around a performance that had already ended.
***
Back at the condominium, Bai Zhiqi sat in the rooftop garden lounge, a warm breeze teasing strands of her hair as she scrolled through her phone. Dressed in a simple cream blouse and soft cardigan, she looked more like a student than the viral figure the internet was obsessing over.
She paused when she saw the photo.
*Bai Lanyue. At the Pavilion. Too late.*
A small, quiet smile curved her lips.
"She came," Bai Zhiqi murmured.
Xiao Lin, sitting beside her with her knees tucked under her, blinked. "Hm?"
"She was at the park today. Just missed me."
Xiao Lin tilted her head. "Should we be worried?"
"No." Her voice was calm. Almost amused. "This is exactly what I wanted."
She handed Xiao Lin the phone, letting her see the trending photo. "Now she'll come looking."
Xiao Lin's eyes widened. "You planned this?"
"I needed her attention," Bai Zhiqi replied simply. "The rest will follow."
Downstairs, Han Su knocked once before entering the rooftop. "Miss Bai, President Ji just saw the trending tags. He asked me to confirm—was that her?"
Bai Zhiqi met his gaze. "Yes. And I assume the public has taken care of the rest."
"They've done more than that," Han Su said, showing her another chart. "Your name is climbing fast. She's bound to respond soon."
"Good." Bai Zhiqi stood and adjusted her sleeves. "It's time she starts remembering what she did."