The morning sun filtered through the gauzy white curtains of the Bai family estate, casting gentle light across the pale cream walls of Bai Lanyue's room. But her day had started long before the sun rose.
Her schedule was packed: final rehearsals, media briefings, stylist sessions, and press preparation. This wasn't just a performance—it was a statement. The National Gala was a crown jewel in the arts world, and she wasn't just any pianist tonight. She was *the* closing act.
The living room downstairs buzzed with activity—florists adding fresh arrangements, assistants checking equipment, and designers doing final fittings. Amid it all, Bai Lanyue sat still, her eyes fixed on the mirror as her stylist added the last pin to her hair.
"Perfect," the woman whispered, stepping back.
She was stunning—draped in a champagne gold gown that shimmered like moonlight. The dress was off-shoulder, detailed with hand-stitched crystals that spiraled like the keys of a grand piano down the bodice and across the hem. Her hair was swept into a sleek bun, adorned with a simple pearl comb.
But her expression held none of the glamour she wore.
It was focused. Tense.
Tonight meant everything.
"You look breathtaking," her manager Meihua said, entering the room. "The venue's been sealed for VIP guests. We've got media coverage from seven networks. You'll arrive just before the main broadcast begins."
Bai Lanyue nodded.
"Any nerves?" Meihua asked.
She smiled faintly. "No room for that tonight."
A sleek black car rolled to a stop at the base of the long red carpet. Paparazzi surged behind their barriers as the door opened.
Bai Lanyue stepped out, poised like royalty. The crowd gasped.
Cameras flashed. The emcee announced her arrival over the speakers. "National treasure and tonight's closing pianist—Miss Bai Lanyue!"
She raised her chin slightly and offered a modest wave.
Every step down the carpet was choreographed and confident. She paused for photos, interviews, and signed a few autographs before sweeping through the grand glass doors into the theatre.
The gala had begun.
The hall was a dream—golden chandeliers, velvet seats, and a stage that stretched like a polished sea of black under the lights. Famous faces from politics, fashion, music, and film mingled across the rows.
Bai Lanyue's name appeared in elegant gold letters on the evening's programme. "*Bai Lanyue: A Tribute to Harmony and Legacy*."
Backstage, she warmed her fingers and went over her sheet music one last time, though she'd memorized it weeks ago. A special grand piano had been brought in for her, its surface glossy and pure white with gold trim.
From the wings, she watched the emcee announce the end of the second act.
"And now," the voice echoed, "the moment we've all been waiting for. Please welcome our honored closing performer, the pride of our nation's music scene—Miss Bai Lanyue."
Applause thundered.
She took a breath and walked onto the stage.
The lights hit her like sunlight on snow.
She bowed.
She sat.
And she began.
The first notes flowed like silk—delicate and steady. Her fingers danced across the keys with practiced grace. The piece she chose tonight wasn't just about mastery. It was a story. A memory. One that connected to her late mother, who taught her her very first lullaby on the piano.
The hall was utterly still, as though the world had paused to listen.
With each crescendo, each fall and rise, her confidence returned. By the final note, her chest rose with breathless satisfaction.
Silence.
Then a standing ovation.
She bowed again. And again.
After the curtain fell, the afterparty moved to the reception hall on the third floor of the theatre. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above while guests toasted glasses of champagne and sampled delicacies.
Bai Lanyue moved through the crowd like a queen, congratulated by CEOs, directors, and fellow artists.
"You've outdone yourself, Lanyue."
"I've never seen a more breathtaking performance."
"You make this country proud."
She accepted each with a graceful smile, though the weight of it all sat heavily on her shoulders.
Meihua approached, a satisfied smile on her face. "You did it."