As Yvonne Yang let out a soft gasp, Shelly Song also turned her gaze to the TV.
At first, what played wasn’t the audition clips, but a short film—a touching story about a young pianist chasing his dreams.
"This short film is pretty moving, really inspiring." Yvonne Yang praised after watching.
"Mm." Shelly Song nodded.
The scene shifted, and a pair of hosts appeared, first introducing the piano competition before starting to play the audition clips.
The first contestant shown was a sweet-looking girl in a white dress. After greeting the judges, she began her performance.
Although the girl in the white dress made it through, Yvonne Yang commented dismissively, "She’s pretty, but her piano playing isn’t much to write home about."
Shelly Song agreed with a nod. The girl’s skill was probably only around professional level three—not bad, but she clearly wasn’t holding back, since it was just the audition. No need to go all out yet.
After ten performance clips, a commercial break came on.
Yvonne Yang started complaining again: "Honestly, the TV station should’ve aired our Shelly sooner—she’s so pretty and plays so well!"
Hearing her mom complain, Shelly Song felt a strange tension inside. What if the TV station cut her performance clip?
After the commercials, the audition clips resumed.
Finally, at the eighteenth spot, Shelly Song’s performance was aired.
Watching herself on TV, Yvonne Yang couldn’t help but beam. "Our Shelly really shines on camera, and she plays beautifully too."
Shelly played a world-famous piece, and when she finished, she received high praise from all three judges.
For a moment, a faint smile appeared at the corner of Shelly Song’s lips.
"Hey, isn’t that Shelly’s friend? He plays pretty well, just not much to look at." Yvonne Yang started critiquing again.
Shelly, though, was surprised—she could tell that Evan Xia’s playing, while not quite at her level, was close. He’d definitely be a tough opponent in the rounds ahead.
"Huh!" Yvonne Yang exclaimed again. "Shelly, look—Ian Song made it on TV too!"
Only the standouts from the auditions made it onto TV. If Ian Song was featured, didn’t that mean his skill was at least professional level?
"Ian Song’s piano skills reached professional level?" Shelly Song was doubtful.
Ding!
On TV, Ian Song had already started playing. His expression was calm, but as the sorrowful melody came through the speakers, Shelly Song’s face changed abruptly. It was a piece she’d never heard before.
"Is he playing an original piece?" Shelly Song frowned tightly. Most people wouldn’t risk an original in the auditions.
Gradually, Shelly Song was drawn in by Ian Song’s playing. Even Yvonne Yang couldn’t help but praise, "Ian’s not bad at all." But she quickly added, "Still not as good as our Shelly."
After listening to Ian Song’s performance, Shelly Song fell silent.
Her piano skills were already at level nine—just one step from becoming a master. That’s why she was so confident about taking first place in the competition; piano masters were extremely rare, with fewer than ten in all of Yanhuang.
But Ian Song’s performance gave her the sense that she was hearing a true piano master.
The piece was beautiful, creating a vivid artistic atmosphere. For a moment, she was completely immersed in its world.
Right then, she felt a powerful urge to confront Ian Song and ask if he’d reached master level.
"Shelly, what’s wrong?" Yvonne Yang noticed her daughter’s strange mood and asked with concern.
"I’m a bit tired. I’ll go rest in my room."
Shelly Song got up from the sofa and walked straight to her bedroom.
Seeing this, a worried look flashed across Yvonne Yang’s face. She might not know much about piano, but she could still tell when a piece sounded good—and it was obvious that Ian Song’s performance was even more beautiful than her own daughter’s.
For a moment, she frowned deeply.
In the heart of Riverstone City stood a vast, ancient manor.
Above the manor’s two three-meter-tall bronze gates hung a plaque inscribed with three gilded characters: “Nolan Manor.”
The calligraphy was bold yet restrained, carrying a sense of grim authority.
Legend had it that these characters were written by Victor Nolan, the founder of the Nolan clan. Victor was an official of the previous dynasty, famed for his battlefield exploits and honored as a grand general.
Inside Nolan Manor, in a study in the inner courtyard...
Nathan Nangong glared coldly at the black-clad man kneeling before him. "You’ve really let me down. After all these days, you still haven’t caught her," he said icily.
The man bowed his head. "Forgive me, Third Master. Blood Rose is one of the Darkworld Syndicate’s top ten silver-ranked killers—she’s extremely tough. After sabotaging Young Master’s car, she fled straight to Seaside City, which is Harper territory. Our Nangong Family and the Harpers don’t get along, so I couldn’t make any moves without drawing their attention."
"I want results, not excuses!" Nathan Nangong snapped.
The man gritted his teeth. "Third Master, I do have an idea, but I’m not sure if I should say it."
"Speak."
"According to my sources, Blood Rose has betrayed the Darkworld Syndicate and is now wanted worldwide by them. Why not leak her location in Seaside City to Darkworld and let them deal with her?"
"No. Justin still hasn’t woken up—I have to personally deal with that bitch!" Nathan’s face twisted with rage as he spoke.
The man looked troubled, but quickly added, "There’s another way, Third Master. We could place a paid order with Darkworld to have them capture Blood Rose. Their fees are just pretty steep."
"Hmph! You think I’m short on money?" Nathan snorted. "Go place the order—no matter the cost, I want that woman brought back!"
"Yes, Third Master!"
The man bowed and left the study.
Café.
After finishing his performance, Ian Song headed to Mira Su’s office.
Seeing her low spirits, Ian Song couldn’t help asking, "Mira, is something bothering you?"
"Quit prying, kid." Mira Su glanced at him coolly, then handed him a thick stack of cash.
Ian took the money, but something felt off—there was at least ten thousand yuan. He quickly asked, "Mira, why are you giving me so much?"
"It’s extra compensation—I’m closing the shop," Mira Su said quietly.
"Why?" Ian Song was shocked. "Business seemed pretty good."
"Don’t ask." Mira Su waved him off impatiently. "You don’t need to come in tomorrow—tonight was the café’s last night open."
Ian pulled out two bills from the stack and placed the rest back on her desk. "Mira, thanks for taking care of me these days, but I’ll only take what I’ve earned. You should keep the rest."
With that, Ian Song bowed to Mira Su and walked out of the office.
"Wait." Just as he stepped outside, Mira Su suddenly called after him.
Ian looked at her in confusion. "Mira, is there something else?"
"Let me buy you a drink. Want to go?"
"Of course! Why not?" Ian Song smiled.