The Crystal Ballroom shimmered with decadent grace. Candlelight flickered across crystal glasses and velvet gowns as the elite of the city laughed and whispered over a backdrop of soft classical music. This was the social event of the quarter — the *Spring Gala*, where reputations were either crowned or crushed.
At the center of it all stood *Ji Lanxue*, radiant in an off-shoulder white gown, lips curled into a knowing smile.
She tapped her champagne glass gently, and silence followed like a curtain falling.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she said, voice light, carrying. "I know you've all had your fill of good wine and better gossip, but the highlight of tonight… is yet to come."
A ripple of curiosity moved through the hall.
Her gaze swept the crowd — resting briefly, purposefully, on *Bai Lanyue*, dressed in a pale gold gown, laughing softly at a table of sponsors. Lanyue met her gaze, offering a cordial nod.
Ji Lanxue smiled wider.
"I'm honored to present a very special guest. Someone the internet's fallen in love with — and I daresay, so have I." The crowd chuckled lightly.
"She's a mystery. A melody. A movement," Ji Lanxue continued with practiced dramatic flair. "And tonight, she makes her grand stage debut at a gala. Please welcome — the *Veiled Musician*."
Applause swelled, cameras lifted.
Lights dimmed.
The curtains at the far end of the hall parted to reveal a raised platform bathed in silver-blue light. There, seated behind a black guzheng, was a woman clad in flowing crimson hanfu laced with gold threads. A sheer veil masked her features, but her presence demanded attention.
*Bai Zhiqi.*
Her posture regal, her fingers hovered briefly above the strings… then fell.
The hall filled with haunting, intricate music — a melody both ancient and startlingly personal.
In the crowd, *Bai Lanyue's smile froze*.
Her breath caught. She turned slightly toward the stage, frowning. The music — she knew this tune. Not from the radio. Not from online.
From somewhere far older. Far more intimate.
A tune only one person used to play.
Her chest tightened.
As Bai Zhiqi played, her hands danced over the strings with exacting grace, and the melody changed — layered now with a sharper rhythm, more dramatic. Her music wasn't just beauty — it was memory and confrontation, challenge and pain.
Lanyue's fingers curled around her wine glass.
This wasn't just performance. This was message.
The audience, meanwhile, was enraptured. Phones lifted, live streams rolled. Some had tears in their eyes.
But *Lanyue couldn't move*. She stared at the veiled figure, something clawing at her ribs.
It couldn't be her.
Impossible.
She's gone.
The final notes rang — long, clear, like the tolling of a forgotten bell.
Then silence.
Thunderous applause. Whistles. Standing ovations. People cried out praises.
But *Bai Zhiqi simply stood*, bowed low, and vanished into the shadows before anyone could approach her.
Ji Lanxue returned to the stage, a hand pressed lightly to her chest as if overwhelmed.
"She's… breathtaking," she murmured into the mic. "A true marvel. And it was *my* honor to bring her to you all tonight."
The crowd roared their approval.
But at Table Nine, Bai Lanyue's wine glass was untouched. Her expression unreadable. Her heart, however, thundered in her chest like a storm.
She didn't realize Ji Lanxue had watched her the entire time.
From the stage, Ji Lanxue lowered the mic, a sly smile playing on her lips as she looked toward where the chaos had just begun.
Mission complete.