?Chapter 1049:

At the judges’ table, a few mentors leaned toward one another and began whispering, their growing impatience hard to conceal.

“What’s with this year’s trainees? They’re all so average. In previous years, at least one or two would shine.”

Another mentor chuckled in response.

“You’re getting more impatient as you age. Only a few have gone up. The best usuallyeter.”

Though spoken in hushed tones, theirments still reached the Morrison family sitting just behind them.

Arion nudged Carrie, grinning.

“Did you hear that? You’re their highlight. Drawing ate number just made you the grand finale.”

Just then, it was Aliza’s turn. She rose and walked confidently to the stage, her gold gown shimmering under the lights.

The dress was encrusted with hand-stitched crystals, and arge diamond ne sparkled with each step she took. As the spotlight caught her jewelry, the entire room flickered with bursts of refracted light.

Some mentors frowned.

“She looks more ready for a beauty pageant than a music evaluation,” one muttered.

“With all that sparkle, I can’t tell if we’re supposed to judge her performance or her jewels.”

Those remarks didn’t escape the ears of the Herrera family, seated nearby. Kristopher heard them too.

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But unlike the others, Kristopher remained unfazed. With his legs crossed and an unreadable expression, he simply watched the stage.

From the car she chose to arrive in to the ostentatious outfit she now wore, Kristopher had already anticipated the negative attention Aliza would draw. Yet, he hadn’t intervened.

How could he have ever considered a marriage alliance with a family so shallow and foolish?

A wave of guilt swept over him. How could he have fallen for such an obvious deception?

Worse still was the betrayal he felt from his own mother, who had manipted his memory loss to push this engagement, disregarding his happiness in the process.

Meanwhile, on stage, Aliza remained unaware of the criticism whispered about her. After briefly introducing herself, she took her seat at the piano and began to y. Within seconds, the skepticism on the judges’ faces began to shift—reced by unmistakable surprise.

In recent years, the Music Association had continued to recruit new members, yet its reputation had quietly slipped into decline. The problem was not ack of talent—there were plenty of skilled individuals—but rather the sameness among them. Their music had grown too clean, too calcted. Itcked the raw spark, the soul. Everything sounded polished, yet formic, as if molded from a single, uninspired blueprint.

Most of these rising stars hailed from wealthy families. They had all studied under renowned masters from a very young age, molded by elite hands.

While learning from giants had its obvious benefits, standing on their shoulders came at a price. These masters had distinct styles, forceful identities that left deep impressions. Growing up under their guidance felt less like being nurtured and more like being shapedpressed into familiar forms. The students’ originality had been buried, their voices silenced beneath the weight of tradition.

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