If there’s nothing else, then get out of the way, Colby. Valentine’s anxious gaze kept falling on the stage behind her. At this mont, Huo Bingxuan also noticed this, and following Colby. Valentine’s gaze, her expression turned unpleasant again, and her body involuntarily made way for Colby. Valentine.
The other party quickly walked towards the stage, not even sparing her an extra glance.
She then heard her idol excitedly call out a na in continuous brisk Chinese: "Anna, it’s really you."
Unlike the surprise in Colby. Valentine’s voice, An Nan, sitting at the piano, pressed the wrong key harshly upon hearing this awkward call, and her expression turned stiff.
Damn, why is this strange person here.
Colby. Valentine, regarded as a piano master in others’ eyes, was rely a peculiar uncle in An Nan’s eyes. The story of how they t could be considered legendary. Twelve-year-old An Nan steadfastly bid farewell to her family and flew across the ocean alone to begin her study-abroad life, a journey that lasted three years.
At fifteen, An Nan, not as tall as she is now, was a petite figure walking among the tall Caucasians, looking like a pocket-sized doll. Yet, she was very popular in the aristocratic Arican school, adored by both male and female classmates, who loved to have her around.
Similarly, in her class, she was the youngest, yet achieved the best grades.
That day was a piano competition involving so of her classmates, and they took her along.
Upon arrival at the venue, she saw a handso mixed-blood guy boasting loudly among the crowd that Chinese people lack artistic talent. Being a thoroughbred Chinese, young An Nan imdiately got angry, and rushed forward, saying in the mixed-blood guy’s surprised gaze: "Then let’s have a competition. If you think I have artistic talent, take back what you just said."
Once An Nan spoke, she instantly attracted everyone’s attention, and even her classmates pulled at her sleeve with a terrified look: "Anna, don’t ss around, this person is Colby. Valentine."
Clearly, An Nan’s classmate had recognized who he was.
But stubborn An Nan didn’t know him. In her mind, only his disdainful words lingered, and her stubborn nature demanded he retract them.
Ignoring the varied gazes of the onlookers, and disregarding her classmate tugging at her sleeve, she defiantly stared at the handso face before her, eyes devoid of any ripples.
Colby. Valentine beca famous at a young age, always making others yield to his whims. How could he now lose face before so many people, at the hands of an oriental little girl? The next mont, he curved his lips into a smirk, and with a disdainful expression, said: "Little girl, what do you propose we compete in?"
An Nan returned the disdain: "Any instrunt, your choice."
Colby. Valentine then gradually beca interested, and eventually, they chose the piano.
As An Nan sat calmly at the piano, Colby. Valentine spoke again: "You play. If I think you have artistic talent, I’ll take back what I said."
"Really?" A strange gleam began to flicker in An Nan’s beautiful brows and eyes.
"Yes, I, Colby. Valentine, always keep my word."
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