“Miss Shen, please confirm the amount.”
Shen Qinghuan took the envelope, thanked them, and stuffed the bonus into her bag.
Leaving the finance office, she headed over to the school’s security department.
The thugs from the concert hall corridor had already been taken to the police station; someone from security had stayed behind to take her preliminary statement.
Shen Qinghuan sat on the bench and quickly recounted the whole incident to the staff, clear and organized, with the time, place, and people all exactly right.
The staff member nodded while taking notes, then had her sign to confirm.
“We’ll hand the materials over to the police station. If anything else is needed, we’ll contact you.”
Shen Qinghuan stood up. “Thank you.”
Her mood sank a little further.
Those thugs didn’t look like they had any money; even if they were bankrupted, they probably couldn’t come up with full compensation.
Besides, Shen Qinghuan thought, she actually didn’t want to give up that violin that had been smashed—after all, it was something that had accompanied the original owner for so long.
But finding a professional to repair it would be another difficult matter.
By the time Shen Qinghuan walked out of the security office, the sky had already darkened.
The streetlights along Ginkgo Avenue lit up one by one, orange light spilling across the pavement like a layer of scattered gold.
She stepped through the fine fallen leaves, walking out with a light step, calculating whether she could treat Su You to dinner on her own dime tonight.
Meanwhile, a black luxury business car was parked discreetly under the plane trees outside Jingda’s south gate.
Lu Shiyan leaned against the seatback, looking at his phone.
On the screen was a replay of the Sheng Yao Dian Feng livestream, frozen on the moment Shen Qinghuan finished her last note.
Her bow hung in midair, her chin tilted slightly upward, the very picture of confidence, the spotlight wrapping her in a layer of cold white light.
He watched for two seconds, then exited the playback.
Her talent never disappointed—pity she was so foolish.
The car door opened, and Assistant Song climbed into the driver’s seat holding that lacquered, gold-trimmed violin case.
He laid the case across his lap, both hands steadying it, as if cradling some fragile treasure.
“Lu, Miss Shen insisted on returning the violin. She said… she said you’re a good person, and that she’ll do her best to repay your kindness in the future.”
Lu Shiyan’s gaze fell on the case in the front seat. He said nothing.
Assistant Song glanced at the man in the back seat through the rearview mirror.
He was a returnee with a master’s degree, and had been at Lu-shi Jituan for six months. On his very first day of onboarding, he’d been told repeatedly—
The name Shen Qinghuan was forbidden territory in the Lu family.
Don’t ask. Don’t mention it. Don’t discuss it in any setting.
But today… Assistant Song thought, Lu’s attitude was clearly unusual.
Who goes out of their way to deliver a violin to a former fiancée whose engagement they’d broken off?
So he mustered his courage and said:
“Lu, there’s something… I only joined the company six months ago.”
Whereas Shen Qinghuan’s scene at the Lu family demanding the engagement be broken off had happened a whole year ago.
Assistant Song chose his words carefully, speaking very slowly: “Yet Miss Shen knew my surname was Song the moment she first met me today.”
The car remained silent.
“Anyone could find out your surname with a single question.” Lu Shiyan looked up, his tone flat.
Assistant Song paused. “But Miss Shen’s tone… it was like she’d known all along.”
Boss, your former fiancée has been secretly keeping tabs on you too!
There was no sound from the back seat.
Assistant Song wisely shut his mouth. If he kept talking, he might end up like that domineering CEO’s assistant next door—shipped off on a business trip to Africa.
Song started the car.
Lu Shiyan turned his head to look out the window as the gates of Jingda slowly receded from view.
His fingertips tapped lightly against his knee, twice, at a slow rhythm, as if recalling something.
“Have Lawyer Wang keep an eye on the program’s competition schedule.”
After the Jingda gates had completely vanished into the night, Lu Shiyan suddenly spoke, his voice still cold.
“Don’t let anyone tamper with the rules.”
Assistant Song’s fingers paused slightly on the steering wheel. Without turning his head, he answered in a low voice, “Yes, sir.”
The car merged into the traffic on the main road, its taillights stretching into two long, thin red lines in the darkness.
the Shen family villa.
The television in the living room was still on, the volume turned down low. A finance channel host was analyzing the market outlook for the second half of the year.
Father Shen sat on the sofa, his gaze resting on the TV screen, though he wasn’t really watching.
Jiang Bihua came down from the second floor carrying an empty teacup, walked to the kitchen doorway, then turned back.
After standing by the sofa for a while, she picked up the phone on the coffee table and, out of habit, opened the short video platform.
The very first item in her feed was a livestream clip from the Sheng Yao Dian Feng auditions.
The cover image was Shen Qinghuan.
A black dress, a long bow, standing under the spotlight, her profile cut by the beam of light into halves of light and shadow.
The video’s cover title read: “Paganini Caprice—Jingda’s Prodigy Girl Advances with a Unanimous Vote!”
Jiang Bihua’s finger hovered over the screen. She hesitated a moment, then tapped in.
On the screen, the daughter she knew so well walked out from backstage, holding her instrument, her steps calm and composed.
When someone on the judges’ panel spoke, she answered serenely, then set up her instrument and closed her eyes.
The moment the bow came down, Jiang Bihua’s heart gave a gentle jolt.
She couldn’t really understand Paganini, but she could understand the change in the judges—from casual indifference to sitting up straight and attentive.
Comments flew rapidly past the right side of the screen, all of them praise.
After watching the performance, Jiang Bihua went back and read through the comments from the beginning.
The comments were full of admiration, yet a sourness began to rise in Jiang Bihua’s heart.
Her daughter had stood on that stage all alone, and when it was over, no one was waiting for her—no one to hand her water, to give her a hug…
Jiang Bihua rubbed at the corner of her eye with her finger and flipped the phone face-down on her lap.
“What’s wrong?” Father Shen came in, glancing sideways at her.
“Nothing,” Jiang Bihua said slowly. “Qinghuan passed the auditions for that variety show. She advanced with a unanimous vote.”
Father Shen gave a snort. “A TV show—more gimmick than substance. A truly fine musician doesn’t need to prove herself on a program like that.”
Jiang Bihua didn’t argue. She picked the phone back up and started playing the video again.
This time she didn’t turn on the sound, just watched her daughter’s face on the screen.
She didn’t tell her husband that she had already watched it more than once.
In the study on the second floor, Shen Yanzhou sat at his desk, the computer screen before him covered in dense contract clauses.
A cup of coffee, long gone cold, sat at his hand—he hadn’t taken a single sip since sitting down.
His phone lay beside the mouse, and the screen lit up.
A trending news notification: “Shengyao Dianfeng Jingda Auditions—Prodigy Shen Qinghuan Advances Unanimously with Paganini!”
Shen Yanzhou glanced at it and swiped the notification away as if he hadn’t seen it.
Five minutes later, he opened Langbo on his computer.
On the trending list, that topic had climbed a few more spots.
He clicked into it, and pinned at the top was the clip from that audition livestream.
The video played automatically. Shen Yanzhou watched for a few seconds, then closed the page.
Then, he opened his browser history, found the page, right-clicked, and chose to save it.
The folder was named “Work Materials.”
He closed his laptop without a trace of expression.