The fake heiress loves to act? The max-level boss isn't interested in playing along.

"Um!"

Zhang Wen instantly perked up, even though her stomach was still hurting.

But being able to go out for some fresh air is better than lying in bed.

The two boarded the bus, and Zhang Wen leaned on Fu Hua's shoulder.

She whispered, "Actually, I just don't want to be alone... My mom is on duty today, and my dad took Leilei to the Children's Palace..."

Fu Hua gently patted her hand. She understood that feeling—

It's not physical pain, it's an emptiness in my heart, a need for someone to be with me, a need for some sound to fill the silence.

Zhang Wen's personality is not as cheerful as it seems.

This is largely due to the fact that she was fostered by relatives when she was a child.

If someone grows up under the loving care of their parents, they are generally cheerful and outgoing.

Beneath the magnificent dome of the city theater, crystal chandeliers cast a warm yellow glow.

The red velvet seats were filled with audience members.

There were members of a foreign delegation and leaders from the Cultural Bureau.

There were actors and musicians from the theater troupe, as well as relatives and friends specially invited by Su Yurou.

There are also Fu Chaochao's classmates and friends.

Lin Bei was dragged along today because his parents were into music, hoping to elevate his taste.

Su Yurou sat in the middle of the second row, her hands nervously clasped on her knees.

Fu Youchuan, standing beside her, straightened his back.

His eyes were fixed on the light blue figure on the stage.

The curtain slowly rose.

Fu Chaochao sat in front of the black grand piano.

The light blue dress shimmered softly under the stage lights.

The pearl hair clip at her temple shimmered as she leaned forward slightly.

Everything is perfect!

She took a deep breath and placed her fingertips on the piano keys.

The first note of the third movement of "Moonlight Sonata" crashed into the silence.

It was rapid and intense, like a torrential downpour.

Fu Chaochao's fingers danced across the piano keys.

Every note is precise and accurate, and every contrast between loud and soft is meticulously designed.

She remembered every instruction from her piano teacher—"You need to explode here!"

"We need to stop here!"

"Make sure you step on these pedals thoroughly!"

The audience held their breath.

In the foreign guests' section, several French representatives nodded slightly, revealing expressions of appreciation.

The leaders of the Cultural Bureau exchanged satisfied glances—

This showcases the spirit of Chinese youth and is a testament to their cultural diplomacy.

Fu Youchuan clenched his fist excitedly and whispered to Su Yurou, "Mom, look how well Chaochao plays!"

Su Yurou's eyes were slightly moist.

Yes, her every day is wonderful.

This daughter, whom she had personally raised and cared for for over a decade,

At this moment, they are shining brightly under the spotlight.

They were receiving everyone's attention and admiration.

Huahua has achieved results in scientific research, and Chaochao shines in the field of art.

This is the best possible outcome.

Both of them have their own strengths, and neither of them needs to feel uncomfortable.

She was afraid that both of them would overthink things, which is why she didn't want Huahua to come and watch.

This performance is destined to be dazzling.

Lin Bei sat in the back row, watching Fu Chaochao on the stage.

She played very well, her technique was impeccable, her expression was so intense, and she seemed to be on fire.

But for some reason, the image of Fu Hua's profile as she explained the problem to him flashed through his mind.

Calm and focused, like a pine tree in the wind and snow, proud and upright.

There never seemed to be that deliberate fervor in her eyes.

On stage, the last chord fell.

The music trembled and dissipated in the air.

The silence lasted for two seconds, then applause erupted like a tidal wave.

The audience stood up, applause mixed with cheers and whistles—

This is the highest honor bestowed upon young performers.

Fu Chaochao stood up, walked to the center of the stage, and bowed deeply.

She looked up, a perfect and appropriate smile on her face.

My eyes involuntarily drifted towards the VIP section—

Mr. Steinberg sat there, whispering something to the representative beside him.

She gave it her all in today's performance, and she has adjusted her rhythm and mindset perfectly.

It can be said that this was her best performance ever.

Steinberg should be very satisfied, right?

Fu Chaochao's heart was pounding wildly in her chest.

She remembered Steinberg's encouragement to her backstage.

When he spoke to her, both his tone and his gaze were gentle.

He will definitely take her as his student.

Most definitely.

The curtain slowly closed.

Fu Chaochao walked off the stage amidst thunderous applause.

As soon as I entered the backstage area, I was surrounded by students who had been waiting for a long time.

"Chaochao, you're amazing!"

"How did you practice those high-note phrases?"

"Mr. Steinberg will definitely be very impressed with you!"

Fu Chaochao smiled shyly and responded to each question.

Su Yurou also rushed over from the audience seats.

She hugged her daughter tightly: "Chaochao, Mom is so proud of you!"

"Mother……"

Fu Chaochao leaned against her mother's chest, her voice choked with emotion, "Was my playing... alright?"

"It's more than just possible!"

Fu Youchuan squeezed through the crowd and patted his sister's shoulder hard. "Absolutely perfect! Didn't you see the expressions on those foreigners' faces? They were all stunned!"

As they were talking, the troupe leader, Wang, accompanied Steinberg and his group backstage.

Everyone fell silent, their eyes fixed on the silver-haired old man.

Steinberg walked up to Fu Chaochao.

He extended his hand, his tone calm: "Congratulations, young lady. A perfect performance."

Fu Chaochao quickly grasped his hand, her voice trembling with excitement: "Thank you, sir! I... I still have a lot of room for improvement..."

"certainly,"

Steinberg nodded, his tone gentle, "Your technique is very solid; your pitch, rhythm, and dynamic control—these fundamentals are all excellent."

It's clear you have a strict teacher, and you've put in a lot of effort for today's performance.

That sounds like a compliment.

Fu Chaochao's eyes lit up, and Su Yurou breathed a sigh of relief, her smile returning to her face.

Director Wang stepped forward at the opportune moment: "Mr. Steinberg, what do you think of Chaochao... is it possible for her to continue her studies under your guidance? Our troupe is willing to fully support her..."

Steinberg remained silent for a moment.

The air backstage suddenly became eerily quiet.

All eyes were on his face, waiting for his answer.

The old man raised his hand and gently patted the piano lid, as if he were stroking the shoulder of an old friend.

Then he turned around and looked at Fu Chaochao, his eyes filled with a complex emotion.

—It's not disappointment, it's not denial, but rather a kind of...regret.

"Your piano playing technique is excellent."

He spoke slowly, each word clear, "But I didn't hear any music in here."

Seeing the slightly puzzled looks on everyone's faces, Mr. Steinberg explained in broken Mandarin...

"A performer who focuses on technique will never become a great musical craftsman."

Fu Chaochao's smile froze.

"The third movement of 'Moonlight Sonata'"

Steinberg continued, "It's not a gallery of technique; it's pain, struggle, a scream in the night, a dance of the soul on the edge of the abyss, but what you played..."

He paused, as if searching for the right words, "Very correct, every sound is correct, every treatment conforms to the textbook."

But it's too accurate, so accurate it's like...like a machine, devoid of human emotion.

The backstage area was eerily silent.