The quiet hum of the afternoon settled over the penthouse like a fragile veil. Sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows, casting golden reflections on the polished floor. Bai Zhiqi sat on the cushioned bench by the window, hair loosely tied, a steaming cup of osmanthus tea resting beside her. Her slender fingers flipped the pages of a thin sheet music book, but her mind wasn't on the notes.
The door creaked open.
Ji Lanxue stepped in, holding an envelope with an embossed golden edge. Her smile was unreadable—too calm to be casual.
"This just came," she said, waving the envelope before setting it down lightly on the table.
Bai Zhiqi looked up.
Xiao Lin, who had just entered behind Lanxue, frowned at the ornate seal. "That's Bai Lanyue's family crest."
Ji Lanxue gave a slow nod. "It's an invitation. Addressed specifically to *the Veiled Musician*."
Han Su, curled up on the far couch scrolling through his phone, raised an eyebrow. "Ah, poetic irony. Bai Lanyue, inviting her own ghost to the party."
Xiao Lin opened the envelope carefully and pulled out the letter. "She's requesting a private performance… at her upcoming birthday banquet."
Ji Lanxue's voice held a wry edge. "Apparently, the theme is *reconciliation*."
Bai Zhiqi said nothing.
Xiao Lin glanced at her. "It's a trap."
"She knows," Han Su said from the couch, eyes still on his screen. "But she's not stupid enough to walk into it blind."
Bai Zhiqi rose and walked toward the table. Her eyes scanned the letter, lingering for a moment on the flowery words Bai Lanyue had used: *We've both changed, haven't we? I wish to put the past behind us. I hope your music will be a blessing on my new chapter.*
"She's trying to bait you," Ji Lanxue said quietly. "Draw you in under the veil, and then—"
"Unmask me publicly," Bai Zhiqi finished. Her voice was calm. Distant. But not cold.
Xiao Lin bristled. "She'll use that moment to destroy everything you've built."
Han Su yawned. "Maybe not destroy. But twist it enough that people forget who you are… and remember only who she says you were."
There was a long pause.
Then Bai Zhiqi folded the letter in half with slow precision. "I'll go."
"What?" Xiao Lin's voice shot up a pitch.
Ji Lanxue narrowed her eyes. "You're accepting?"
Bai Zhiqi set the folded letter down beside her tea cup. "Yes. I'll go. As the veiled musician."
Han Su sat up now, phone forgotten. "You're serious."
"She wants a spectacle," Bai Zhiqi said softly. "She'll get silence wrapped in music. Nothing more."
Xiao Lin stepped closer. "Zhiqi, you don't have to do this. She wants to corner you, humiliate you, expose you."
"She's already trying," Bai Zhiqi said. "She signed her name on that envelope to declare her next move. I'm accepting so I can make mine."
Ji Lanxue folded her arms. "And what is your move?"
Bai Zhiqi's lips curled slightly—not a smile, but something sharper. "To remain veiled. To remain untouched. She wants my name, but I'll give her only my music."
Xiao Lin let out a breath. "Then we'll be watching everything. We won't let her get close."
Han Su grinned. "I'll bring popcorn."
Zhiqi looked out the window again, her reflection faint in the glass. "Let her throw her banquet. Let her decorate it with all her illusions. I'll walk through them… and leave her with the silence she fears most."
Xiao Lin exchanged a glance with Ji Lanxue, who nodded once.
The letter sat on the table, folded but not forgotten—like a chess move accepted with poise. And outside, the clouds shifted slowly, unaware of the quiet storm beginning to gather behind the veil.