Taking a deep breath, Ian Song gave a bitter smile and said, "Mira, are you testing me, or just torturing me?"
"Water, I want some water." Hearing Ian's voice, Mira Su's eyes regained a trace of clarity as she spoke to him.
"Wait a moment."
Luckily, Ian had been prepared and had already boiled a pot of water. He poured half a glass and brought it to Mira, but he didn’t dare look at her too much. Otherwise, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to control himself and might do something truly shameful.
"Here you go, Mira. Water's ready."
Instead of reaching for the glass, Mira Su flashed a seductive smile and spoke in a teasing tone, "Little brat, does big sister's body look good to you?"
Ian was already struggling to control himself. Hearing Mira’s words, his eyes instinctively swept over her body, his gaze tinged with red. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Mira, you’re playing with fire. I hope you don’t push my limits, or you’ll see how a little brat turns into a grown man!"
Mira giggled, her laughter as clear as silver bells. Her eyes glinted with challenge. "Do you dare?"
Suddenly, Ian lifted his head, his reddened eyes locked onto Mira’s stunning face. "Mira, I’ll say this one last time—stop provoking me!"
For some reason, meeting Ian’s fiery gaze made Mira’s heart skip a beat. She had a vague feeling that if she teased him one more time, this boy might turn into a hungry wolf and pounce on her.
The next morning at nine, Ian Song arrived again at the Riverstone City Conservatory of Music. Yesterday afternoon, staff from the piano competition had called to inform him to come to the main auditorium by nine-thirty for the preliminary round.
They briefly explained the preliminary round rules so he could prepare in advance.
The preliminary round rules were similar to the open audition: each contestant played their best piece. The difference was the venue—now the conservatory’s auditorium—and the addition of hundreds of spectators. Plus, Riverstone City TV Channel 4 would broadcast the entire event live.
Following the signs, Ian found the conservatory’s main auditorium, where competition staff were waiting at the entrance to distribute contestant numbers.
After giving his name and ID number, Ian received a contestant badge—number 88—meaning he would be the 88th to perform.
Guided by staff, he made his way to the backstage area.
Nearly three hundred contestants had passed the open audition, so the backstage area was crowded. Fortunately, staff were on hand to keep order; otherwise, chaos would have ensued.
Contestants who need makeup, please go to the makeup room. Those who don’t, please wait patiently outside.
A staff member shouted loudly through a megaphone.
Ian scanned the backstage area but didn’t spot Evan Xia or Shelly Song, so he found a quiet corner, stood there, and closed his eyes to rest.
Hey, Ian, why are you hiding here? Need some makeup? I know one of the makeup artists—I’ll take you in.
Ian opened his eyes and looked at Evan, noticing a thick layer of foundation on his face.
Your makeup looks terrible!' Ian said bluntly. After sharing a meal yesterday, the two had become much more familiar with each other.
Evan laughed, “Heh, you don’t get it. On stage you’ve got to paint your face white, or under the cameras your skin looks dull and yellow.”
Really? I didn’t know that.
Come on, I’ll take you to the makeup room and get you painted white too," Evan said enthusiastically.
No way.' Ian quickly shook his head. Just imagining two thick layers of foundation on his face made him shudder.
Ian refused, and Evan didn’t push. Suddenly, Evan remembered something and asked, “Did you watch the TV broadcast of the audition last night?”
Ian shook his head, “I had something to do last night, didn’t get a chance to watch.”
You really are a dark horse. Yesterday you told me you barely scraped through.' Evan glared at Ian, then excitedly continued, 'If I’m not mistaken, your playing is at master level, and your original piece “Blue and White Porcelain” is top-notch. You can perform, you can compose—this competition’s championship is practically yours! But your cousin Shelly Song is also really good, at least level nine. You two might just take both champion and runner-up. How are the rest of us supposed to compete?'
Ian smiled and said, “You flatter me, Evan. I’m not as good as you say. Actually, your playing is also very impressive.”
Tch, bragging like that and not even worried about biting your tongue,' a sudden voice interrupted.
Ian and Evan turned to see two guys and a girl standing nearby, all wearing mocking smiles.
What did you just say, kid? Looking for a beating?' Evan glared angrily at the turtlenecked young man who’d just mocked them.
What, did I hit a nerve?' The turtlenecked youth sneered, his tone full of mockery.
You’re asking for it!' Evan exploded in anger, ready to throw a punch, but Ian stopped him: 'Let it go, Evan. Don’t start a fight here—it’ll look bad.'
Ayan, why bother with these two self-important braggarts? They’re just a pair of clowns.
The speaker was the girl beside the turtlenecked youth. She was somewhat pretty, wore heavy makeup, and dressed rather provocatively.
Ayan’s right, no need to waste energy on them. Championships aren’t won by bragging—they’re won on stage,' the last of the three quickly chimed in to support the girl.
Hearing the trio’s words, Ian frowned, feeling a surge of anger. Still, he held back and pulled Evan aside.
Seeing this, the three thought Ian and Evan were scared of them and looked smug.
Ian, why’d you pull me away? If you hadn’t, I’d have beaten them senseless,' Evan said, clearly frustrated.
Forget it, Evan. They think all we do is brag? Let’s show them what we can really do once we’re on stage,' Ian advised.
Exactly!' Evan nodded. 'Just wait till we’re on stage—I’ll show them what real skill looks like.'
After calming Evan down, Ian quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Then the two of them started chatting about other things.
Soon, Shelly Song arrived backstage, accompanied by her aunt.
Ian hurried over to greet them. His aunt praised him again, while Shelly said nothing, her gaze toward him a mix of curiosity and complexity.
Five minutes left until the competition began.
A staff member called out through a megaphone: “Everyone, please quiet down—the competition is about to start. Contestants with numbers one through five, please wait in the hallway. When the host calls your number, go straight to the stage. There will be ten judges scoring your performances, and your final score will be the average. Only the top 200 will advance to the next round, so do your best and don’t be nervous!”
The staff repeated the instructions, then urged the first five contestants to get ready in the hallway.
9:30 a.m.
The male and female hosts took the stage, briefly introduced the piano competition, then introduced the ten judges one by one before announcing the official start and inviting contestant number one to perform.
Contestant number one was a young man in his early twenties, calm and confident. He introduced himself, greeted the judges, and began his performance.
The backstage display screen was turned on, giving a clear view of the stage.
As the piano music started, the backstage area fell silent.
Contestant number one’s performance was steady. The piece wasn’t a classical masterpiece, but an adaptation of a pop song.
Three minutes later, the performance ended and the audience erupted in applause.
The male host returned to the stage and asked the nine judges to score the performance.
There was also a large display screen on stage. Each judge had a tablet, and the scores they entered appeared instantly on the screen.
Contestant number one: total score 82.3 points, currently ranked first. Now, contestant number two, please take the stage.
With nearly three hundred contestants, the schedule was tight—so tight that the judges’ commentary segment was skipped entirely.
In no time, thirty contestants had performed. The highest score so far was contestant number twenty-seven: 90.5 points. She was a teenage girl, about fifteen or sixteen, with average looks but a remarkably clear aura.
Now, contestant number thirty-one, please take the stage.
In the hallway, Shelly Song took a deep breath, her expression resolute as she walked toward the stage.