The next day, the second round of the showcase began.
Bai Zhi stood backstage in a cream-colored gown embroidered with pale gold thread, her guzheng beside her. Her hair was braided elegantly down one shoulder.
In the audience sat professors, talent scouts, corporate representatives and a few unexpected guests.
Li Jiannan leaned back in his seat near the back, arms crossed, watching the stage with quiet focus.
On the other side of the room, Chen Yuxuan sat with Bai Meilin, who looked dazzling in red.
Meilin's smile was sweet, but her fingers trembled slightly.
"Good luck," Chen said politely.
"Thank you," Meilin answered. But her eyes were locked on the stage, waiting for Bai Zhi to fail.
Bai Zhi stepped into the spotlight.
She bowed.
And then, silence.
Her fingers touched the strings.
A soft, haunting melody emerged, delicate as falling snow, strong as flowing water. She didn't rush. She didn't force it. She let the music breathe.
And then… she began to sing.
Her voice, rich, emotional, full of restrained power filled the hall.
It wasn't just a performance. It was a statement.
Every note said: I am not afraid of you. I don't need your approval. I am already enough.
Halfway through, Meilin leaned forward in her seat, frowning.
Where was the disruption? Where was the glitch? What was going on?
But there was nothing. No audio errors. No sync issues.
Just Bai Zhi, shining.
When the performance ended, the room erupted in applause. Not polite applause like Bai Meilin's, but real, stunned clapping from people who knew they'd seen something unforgettable.
Bai Zhi bowed again.
As she left the stage, her eyes found Meilin's in the crowd.
She smiled.
A quiet, knowing, I saw what you did and I beat you anyway kind of smile.
Meilin's face went pale.
Backstage, Bai Zhi removed her earrings calmly. Her assistant handed her water.
She was about to leave when someone appeared beside her.
Li Jiannan.
"You had backup audio," he said casually.
"I had a plan," she replied.
He looked at her with that unreadable expression. "You knew you were being targeted."
"Of course," she said. "I'm used to knives in the dark."
He studied her for a long moment.
Then, he said, "If you're ever interested in working with my company, there's a place for you."
Bai Zhi blinked, surprised. "I thought you didn't recruit artists."
"I don't," he said. "But you're not just an artist."
And with that, he walked away.
That night, Bai Zhi received a notification from the Academy board.
The two tech workers had been caught and arrested. The Academy was launching a quiet internal investigation.
She smiled, turned off the lights, and lay back on her bed.
So far, she was winning.
But she knew this was only the beginning.
Meilin hadn't given up. And the real war hadn't started yet.
The rain poured quietly over the academy rooftops that morning, a soft drizzle misting the windows of the music wing.
Inside the practice hall, Bai Zhi sat at the piano, her fingers dancing effortlessly across the keys. The melody was haunting, almost mournful. But her eyes were clear, focused. Every note carried weight.
Behind her, the door creaked open.
She didn't look up.
"I wasn't expecting guests," she said evenly
"Impressive as always," said a familiar, honey-sweet voice.
Bai Zhi looked up, only mildly surprised to see Bai Meilin standing by the door, her umbrella still dripping with rain. She was dressed in soft pink, hair styled with subtle effort, and eyes shining with that same fake innocence Bai Zhi had learned to see through.
"What do you want?" Bai Zhi asked calmly, turning back to the keys.
Meilin smiled, stepping closer.
"I came to congratulate you. Your performance yesterday… was breathtaking."
Bai Zhi's fingers paused mid-note. "I'm sure you mean that literally."
Meilin giggled, her voice delicate. "Zhi-jie, why would I mean anything else?"
The act was perfect. If Bai Zhi hadn't lived through ten years of betrayal, she might have believed it again.
But not this time.
"I don't need empty praise from someone who hired saboteurs," Bai Zhi said, finally standing. "Try a little harder if you want to keep up."
Meilin blinked. Just for a moment, the mask slipped.
Then she laughed, soft and sweet, like a spring breeze.
"Zhi-jie," she said again, "why do you always think the worst of me?"
"Maybe because the worst is all you've ever shown me," Bai Zhi replied.
Meilin stepped closer, dropping her voice. "Chen Yuxuan told me you're pushing for a transfer out of the Bai household."
Bai Zhi raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"You shouldn't," Meilin said. "That would break Mother's heart."
"Which one?" Bai Zhi asked coldly. "The one who used to call me daughter? Or the one who now acts like I never existed?"
Meilin hesitated. "You've changed."
She was not the Bai Zhi she remembered from the past.
"I've woken up," Bai Zhi said simply. "And I'm not playing the fool anymore."
Meilin's eyes flashed, the sweetness in her voice souring for just a second. "You know… not everything needs to be a competition."
"You're right," Bai Zhi said, grabbing her bag. "Because I already won."
That afternoon, Chen Yuxuan sat in his office, irritated.
He had called Bai Zhi twice and received no answer. He'd left her messages. She hadn't responded.
And worst of all… Meilin had visited earlier, bringing homemade snacks and chatting like they were old friends.
He didn't like how comfortable she was getting. Something about it felt off.
But then again, Bai Zhi was being even more frustrating.
He tapped his pen on the desk.
She was cold now. Distant. Smarter than he remembered.
And strangely… beautiful.
No. He shook his head. She was always beautiful.
He just hadn't realized it until she stopped caring.
Meanwhile, Li Jiannan was reviewing a report on Bai Meilin.
He didn't trust the sugary act. And after the failed sabotage attempt, his curiosity had sharpened.
"CEO Li," Lin Shao said, entering with a folder. "Our contact found something."
Li Jiannan glanced at the file. Inside were several photos, Meilin with a man in a dark suit. Not Chen Yuxuan. A fixer. Known for his discreet "work."
"She used this man to plant the USB?" Jiannan asked.
"Most likely," Lin replied. "The fixer's been tied to a few discreet university 'cleanups' in the past."
"And her relationship with Chen Yuxuan?"
"Friendly. But no romantic history we can find… yet."
Jiannan closed the folder, tapping it thoughtfully.
"Watch them both."