CHAPTER 571: 223 STUNNING PERFORMANCE, IT TURNS OUT TO BE ANN

At the bottom of the stage was a lift, and on it sat a white grand piano in serene stillness.

Ling Yue’s assistant led Shen You’an through a narrow passageway to enter.

It was dark here, and the space was confined, the passage wide enough for just one person to pass at a time.

Light from the stage streamed through the cracks, casting a few beams that were segmented by the tidy floorboards into limited spaces.

In the flickering beams of light, it seemed as if dust particles were dancing—like mischievous sprites.

Overhead, the articulate and resonant voice of Wang Chiru filtered through a thin panel, sounding both near and distant.

The assistant thought of something: "Aren’t you going to do your makeup or change outfits?"

Qin Xiangge was dressed so splendidly, like a princess living in a castle.

And yet Shen You’an wore only a down jacket. At such a solemn occasion, her casualness was a sign of disrespect to both the stage and the audience.

But clearly, it was already too late to say anything about it now.

There was no time left.

This was Shen You’an’s own lack of concern—if she embarrassed herself, she only had herself to blame, no one else.

Evidently, the assistant was already brimming with frustration toward Shen You’an’s procrastination and irresponsibility.

Did she think that by having President Lan cancel Qin Xiangge’s act, she’d be able to stand out?

What a joke.

Did she really believe herself to be some kind of unparalleled genius?

The assistant stepped aside, bringing the lift platform clearly into view.

Shen You’an stepped forward onto it.

The next moment, the assistant’s eyes widened in disbelief at the scene before her.

Shen You’an removed the black down jacket draped over her shoulders.

The bottom of the stage was stifling and claustrophobic, with dim light and an oppressive atmosphere that made it difficult to feel at ease.

But the girl’s slender, snow-white shoulders were like the finest lamb-fat jade, emanating a peerless brilliance in the stillness of time.

In the faint gloom, the assistant saw that the girl was wearing a sleeveless black evening dress. The blackness was deep and solemn, like the dark and enigmatic night sky—both dangerous and alluring.

The satiny fabric shimmered with a cold luminosity, a hue reminiscent of moonlight.

The collision of jade-like whiteness and jet-black gave rise to an image of a cold moon hanging high in the night sky.

Lonely and serene, yet imbued with an incomparably dazzling radiance in this world.

The assistant stood frozen, seemingly lost in the visual shock of the moment.

With a casual motion, the girl set the down jacket aside on a nearby rack, then sat down on the piano bench. Her slender, fair fingers lifted the lid, and her fingertips swept over the black and white keys, creating a picture that was silent yet tender.

The girl sat with her back to her, hiding her face from view.

Her neck was long and delicately shaped, perfectly balancing fragility and resilience to support her round, graceful head. Her chestnut-brown hair had been simply braided into a ring, adorned with a few pearls—elegant and understated but exuding a gentle, indescribably graceful beauty.

Without realizing it, the assistant was utterly captivated.

The announcer’s voice faded, and the last beam of light on the stage went out.

The world plunged into darkness.

Pitch-black darkness that swallowed everything.

Suddenly, she panicked.

A voice rose in the dark—a distant, mysterious chant that carried a sacred purity, as if offering a baptism to the soul.

Yet behind this spring-like serenity was a hidden storm—lightning and thunder on a shadowy, dreamlike shore, where moonlight illuminated the water’s surface, gentle ripples spreading outward. Beneath the shimmering water, something seemed to stir restlessly.

The lift platform rose slowly, and the ethereal singing seemed to grow wings, soaring into every corner of the auditorium, falling into every listening ear.

Being the closest, the assistant stood frozen for a long while, goosebumps climbing her arms. She could hear the trembling of her own heart, loud and clear.

The song came to an end, but before anyone could catch their breath, the flowing, lyrical melody transitioned seamlessly.

Such a melody was breathtakingly beautiful, like a gentle breeze softly gliding over a tranquil lake. Amid the rippling waves, moonlight fell tenderly.

The relaxed Pearl abruptly straightened up the moment she heard the singing.

Until the introductory measures of the first two bars sounded, opening the curtain to the first movement, "Water Demon."

The untrained audience marveled at the spectacle, but to a professional like her, the dense thirty-second-note augmented chords and their seamless alternations between major triads and semitones were unmistakable. Like paint strokes, the notes vividly sketched a scene of wind brushing over a lake’s surface—so realistic that it felt as though one were right there, the breeze grazing the fine hairs on one’s face, sending shivers down the skin.

There’s a reason Ravel is considered one of the greatest composers. He once told his student, the renowned composer Williams, that every piece of living music contains an implicit melodic silhouette. This alone demonstrates Ravel’s mastery in handling melody.

Through the constant modulation of semitones, alternating between brightness and shadow, it was like revealing the two faces of the moonlight.