The moment the veil slipped from the musician's face, silence fell — thick and suffocating.
The pianist's fingers paused just above the keys, still poised in grace. Her expression didn't flicker. She neither flinched nor acknowledged the stunned gasps that echoed across the grand hall.
But the loudest reactions didn't come from the crowd.
Wen Qing, still crouched from her feigned fall, looked up as though slapped.
"No," she whispered, her lips barely moving. Her eyes widened in disbelief, darting toward Bai Lanyue.
Bai Lanyue had frozen in place, cake fork still poised in her hand. Her smile, painted in flawless rouge, faltered. The chill in her eyes began to crack.
That wasn't Bai Zhiqi.
She could tell in an instant.
That wasn't her.
The girl who stood revealed on stage had an ethereal beauty — pale skin kissed by stage light, soft features framed by a twist of jet-black hair, eyes calm like undisturbed water. But she was unfamiliar. Too unfamiliar. And not Bai Zhiqi.
Not the one Bai Lanyue had tried to expose.
"What… what is this?" Bai Lanyue's voice came out sharper than intended, low but cutting.
Wen Qing scrambled to her feet, feigning confusion. "She—she looked like her from behind—I thought…"
The girl — the decoy — remained silent, eyes downcast, serene. She didn't react to the veil now draped at her shoulders like fallen silk. She simply turned, slowly, back to the piano.
And began to play.
The music was haunting.
Not the signature of the veiled musician, but a softer piece, just unfamiliar enough to blur recognition. It rippled across the room like mist, twisting through crystal chandeliers and silk-covered tables.
The guests leaned forward, captivated — most unaware of the layers beneath the moment. To them, the performance continued.
To Bai Lanyue and Wen Qing, however, this was humiliation in its most elegant form.
A trap — and they had walked into it, heels first.
"She switched," Wen Qing hissed under her breath, trying to salvage pride. "She knew… she knew we'd try something—"
Bai Lanyue clenched her jaw. Her perfectly staged birthday banquet, her carefully arranged unveiling… reduced to smoke and notes.
Across the room, Ji Yanluo stood at ease, hands in his pockets, gaze fixed on the pianist. His expression was unreadable, but the faint curl of his lips didn't go unnoticed by Bai Lanyue.
And beside him, Ji Lanxue sipped her champagne slowly, like someone watching a drama unfold right on cue.
No words were spoken between them.
But the silence said everything.
Wen Qing tugged at Bai Lanyue's sleeve. "Do we confront her? Say she was switched?"
"And sound like fools?" Bai Lanyue snapped under her breath, her composure fraying at the edges. "We already look like we tried to embarrass her. We won't dig deeper."
"But—"
"I said no," she cut in, icily. Her gaze didn't leave the veiled musician. "We underestimated her."
Because even if she wasn't Bai Zhiqi — the real veiled musician had known. She'd planned for this.
She'd played them.
A standing ovation followed the final note.
The decoy pianist stood, bowed once with grace, and turned to leave the stage. She passed Bai Lanyue and Wen Qing with a single, lingering glance — no words, no smile. Just quiet triumph.
A phantom in silk.
And as she walked out, the lights dimmed for the next event — but Bai Lanyue could no longer focus. Her mind whirled with only one thought:
*If that wasn't Bai Zhiqi… then where is she?*
And worse:
*What will she do next?*
The game had begun — and she was no longer holding the pieces.