The noise of the gala had faded into the background of the fast-paced world of entertainment. New headlines replaced old ones. Faces that once trended for days disappeared into silence.
But not the veiled musician.
Even a week later, her name still lingered like a haunting melody in the hearts of those who had seen her at the gala. No one knew where she came from or where she disappeared to. No one had seen her again.
Until now.
The Jade Pavilion sat in the heart of the city's park, surrounded by trees shedding the last of their autumn leaves. The weather had cooled, and the breeze carried the scent of distant rain. It was quiet, almost unnaturally so. But that stillness shattered with the soft hum of strings—light at first, like a whisper, then swelling like a wave.
She had returned.
Bai Zhiqi, dressed in an elegant pale lavender hanfu with silver accents, sat cross-legged behind her guzheng. A thin veil covered her face, the same as before, and yet something about her presence felt... different. Stronger. Like she had reclaimed something in that week of silence.
Xiao Lin, standing to the side with folded arms and a discreet smile, watched the small crowd slowly gather. Word hadn't spread yet—but it would.
The piece she played wasn't grand, nor was it complex. It was nostalgic. The kind of tune that tugged gently at emotions you didn't know you carried. Notes fluttered like memory through the air—bittersweet, melancholic, and captivating.
An older woman paused with her grandson by the railing and whispered, "She's the one… the one from the gala."
"She's real," murmured another. "I thought she was just a media trick."
Phones came out slowly, respectfully, and then, as if released by some invisible signal, the posts began.
#@StarrySounds:* She's back. Jade Pavilion. No announcement. Just… music.#
#@LanLovers:* Thought she disappeared after the gala. Why here again?#
#@VeiledSoul:* Say what you want, she's art. She doesn't need lights to shine.#
Within an hour, "#VeiledMusicianReturns" was trending again.
Han Su held his phone out, showing Ji Yanluo the live feed. "She's drawing crowds again. Barely 20 minutes, and someone's already posted a slow-motion edit."
Ji Yanluo leaned back in his chair, his gaze cool and unreadable. "Good. Let them remember her in this setting—not the stage, not the lights. Just the music."
"She's choosing her battlefield," Han Su said with a chuckle. "And it's working. Bai Lanyue's PR has been silent since the gala."
"She won't stay silent for long," Ji Yanluo said. "But she'll be off-balance."
Just then, Ji Lanxue barged in, holding her phone to her chest. "You guys saw her, right? The veiled musician—again! A whole week later! What is she planning?!"
"Taking back what's hers," Han Su said under his breath.
Lanxue didn't hear. She was already tapping away on her phone, recording her reaction. "I swear, if she releases an album, I'm first in line. I'll camp outside."
Ji Yanluo stood and looked toward the window, toward the distant sounds of music drifting through the city.
"She's not releasing an album," he said softly. "Not yet."
Lanxue blinked. "What then?"
He didn't answer.
Bai Lanyue stared at her phone, frozen.
The video played again. The same figure in the veil. The same music that had once accompanied their mother on quiet, cloudy days. The same pavilion she'd passed a hundred times. And that same name the world had fallen in love with—*The Veiled Musician*—now appeared once more, brighter than ever.
"She's back…" she murmured, her voice hollow.
Madam Bai placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Lanyue, you shouldn't let this get to you—"
"She waited a week," Lanyue said, rising slowly. "She waited until everything had calmed… and then reminded them all."
Mr. Bai spoke gently, "We don't know her intentions—"
"She wants a war," Lanyue snapped. "She wants them to forget me."
She stormed toward her room, determination in every step.
Behind her, the Bai family watched in silence.
But across the city, at the heart of the Jade Pavilion, Bai Zhiqi continued to play.
Unbothered.
Unrushed.
Unforgiving.