She took off her apron, dressed in a waitress uniform, her figure undeniably slender, yet her posture stood straight as an arrow.
The girl had a stunningly beautiful yet unmistakably pale face. Her eyes were slightly closed, her lips adorned with a gentle and relaxed smile, as if imrsed in a beautiful dream. One couldn’t help but sink into the world she painted with her fingers.
The manager was stunned, as were nearly all the waitstaff who worked with Shen You’an.
Is... is this really the Shen You’an they knew?
Sitting at the piano, she was so elegant, so captivating, and yet so unfamiliar.
Wasn’t she from a small town? She hadn’t even graduated high school—how could she possibly know how to play the piano, and play it so well?
When the song ended, the young girl opened her eyes. They were sharply contrasted black and white—naive to the ways of the world, yet carrying a depth of experience. The plainest black and white seed to compose the most breathtakingly beautiful lody.
She was a lovely yet fragile girl, her presence steeped in the essence of mystery, so utterly compelling.
From that day on, she beca the most beautiful sight in the entire restaurant.
A business card was handed to her: "Hi, beautiful girl. You are extraordinarily talented. Don’t waste your gifts on mundane performances. This is where you truly belong."
The man in front of her had a quintessentially Western face. Though nearing forty, traces of his youthful elegance and handsoness were still visible in his features. Even now, he was an extrely charming and graceful gentleman.
Shen You’an held the card with both hands, and when she saw the na printed on it, her pupils involuntarily trembled.
Professor of Piano, International Royal Art Academy, Aaron Ferma.
Allen Ferma.
International piano master.
The tips of her fingers gripping the card burned, and her heart instantly ignited with passion.
But swiftly, reality overwheld her.
If she were a beloved little princess, pampered by her parents, she could boldly and freely chase her dreams.
But as she was now, rely an orphan wrestling with survival, what could she possibly offer in pursuit of the artistic idyll of moonlight and flowers?
For seven consecutive days, the master ca. Every day, he quietly sat in a corner, listening to her play. Before leaving, he would hand her a piece of paper, ticulously noting errors in fingering and rhythm, providing corrections, and offering patient guidance.
Shen You’an rembered the last ti she saw him. He shook his head regretfully, "A lotus born in mud may be pristine and enchanting, but it can never escape the mire beneath its feet."
Born of this soil, raised in this soil, and ultimately destined to fall within it.
After that day, Shen You’an never saw him again.
She searched online for news—this piano master had toured Hua Country, but after completing his performances, he had likely already boarded a plane ho.
Shen You’an clenched that business card tightly, hiding in the bathroom, crying for a long ti.
Wiping away her tears, she returned to her position as a waitress—a figure hurriedly busy for re survival had no right to speak of dreams.
No matter how her fortunes rose or fell in the future, she kept that business card.
It was as if the dream she never even began still sohow existed.
couldn’t read her mories, but still sensed the enormous waves of emotion stirring within its host’s soul. She carried many stories and secrets—secrets only known to herself and no one else in the world.
Over the years, 007 ca to know her so well.
[An’an, you’re a liar. You once said playing the piano was no different for you than fluffing cotton—you lied to .]
[That’s right. Playing the piano and fluffing cotton are indeed no different to . Both are equally simple.]
[007: ...]
I don’t believe a damn word you say.
You trickster.
["Night’s Specter," composed in 1908, was Maurice Ravel’s creation inspired by Berang’s poetry. It consists of three piano tone poems: "Water Demon," "Gallows," and "Phantom," characterized by romantic and fantastical styles. Its difficulty ranks at 9.5, requiring perforrs to be above level nine.]
[An’an, you have only one month. Are you sure?]
Shen You’an’s gaze stretched far away, a faint smile gracing her lips. Behind her glasses, her eyes glead with a dazzling brightness.
[I’m sure.]
The Shen You’an of the past had to surrender her dreams for the sake of survival, defeated by reality until she was left with nothing.
But the Shen You’an of today—never again.
Her piano playing may no longer represent her dreams, but it carried her father’s wishes.
If her father could see her from Heaven, he might feel comforted.
~
Within less than half an hour, the forum had exploded.
Shen You’an’s na stood out amongst a sea of threads about campus heartthrobs, sweeping away the majority of discussion.
If this were the entertainnt industry, her na would dominate headlines every day, making her an undisputed queen of trending topics.
Unfortunately, this ti it wasn’t articles of praise or admiration filling the threads, but screens full of mockery and vitriol.
By entertainnt industry standards, it was the very definition of black haters reveling in frenzy across the entire forum.
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