“China has a pianist this outstanding?”
In the garden, a group surrounded a young man. He narrowed his eyes slightly and looked into the distance.
“Mr. Xu, we have you to thank for that as well,” someone beside him flattered.
Xu Zui said, “I want to meet the person who just played La Campanella.”
The person beside him signaled someone else with his eyes. A group approached, smiling ingratiatingly.
“Mr. Xu, this is my son, Xie Shen.” Xie Ming pulled his son closer.
Someone nearby reminded him, “Mr. Xu, Xie Shen is a somewhat famous young piano prodigy in China. He’s very talented and has studied piano since childhood. He was on the second floor just now.”
Xu Zui looked at Xie Shen. “Were you the one who just played La Campanella?”
Without caring about anything else, Xie Ming nodded on his son’s behalf. “That’s right. It was him.”
Xie Shen lowered his head with a frown and said nothing.
“Your future is limitless.” Xu Zui stepped down and, as he passed Xie Shen, patted his shoulder. “Skilled technique, instinctive artistry. You deserve a greater stage.”
Even after Xu Zui had walked far away, Xie Ming could not contain his excitement. He paced back and forth in ecstasy. “The Xu family holds a permanent seat in the International Piano Association! As long as you get through to him, you can go international!”
“He praised you! He praised you! You’ve really made something of yourself this time!”
Xie Shen clenched his fists.
He had merely happened to hear the music while on the second floor and gone over hoping to meet the pianist. Then another group had happened to see him there.
Great leaps, runs, tremolos, all kinds of octaves, broken intervals spanning tenths and beyond…
Even though he had studied piano since childhood, he could not switch between them with that kind of flexibility.
That spectacular, virtuosic performance of La Campanella had not been his.
They had mistaken him for someone else.
“Are you all right?”
Yue Han’s heart raced with the rhythm of rock music. The sounds by his ears blended into thunder, his eyes stinging. He swallowed hard. “Sorry. I need to use the restroom.”
He took fewer than two steps before dropping to his knees.
Five fingers clenched the fabric over his chest. It felt as though a rampaging beast were trapped inside him, dragging at his organs and filling them with scorching heat.
Yue Han took a deep breath and used every ounce of strength to brace a hand on the ground and try to stand.
Heavy footsteps came from ahead, steady as a hunter certain of his prey, arrogant as a victor.
“What a coincidence. We meet again.”
Yue Han’s body was weak and his breathing quickened. For an instant, he felt as though he had been thrown beneath cameras surrounded by a crowd.
Only when a nauseating touch stroked his face did he bite hard into the tip of his tongue and drive his bent knee upward into the other man’s lower abdomen with all his strength.
The man had not expected the attack and took it directly. He cursed several times, got up, dragged Yue Han, and kicked him wildly.
The pain from those kicks successfully dragged Yue Han somewhat back to consciousness.
He was still in the garden. Artificial turf covered the ground, with a fish pond off to one side.
Yue Han tilted his head. Under the bright moonlight, his eyes looked misty and beautiful.
Zhu Kun crouched and forcefully seized Yue Han’s chin. “If you’d listened earlier, you wouldn’t have had to suffer so much. Do you think you still have a choice?”
That earlier kick still had Zhu Kun sucking in painful breaths. Resentful, he slapped Yue Han hard across the face.
“Still dreaming about turning your career around? If you serve me well, I might even give you a couple of porn films to shoot.” His voice carried the pity of someone bestowing charity. “You don’t have any other roles left.”
Yue Han breathed lightly. “Is that so.”
Zhu Kun frowned. Had this person gone stupid?
The young man lifted his face toward the moon. A piercing light flashed in his dark eyes, inexplicably making people uneasy.
Half his face was snow-white. The other half bore the clear print of five fingers.
His collar had fallen slightly open. Zhu Kun followed the sharp line of his jaw downward, swallowed, and couldn’t resist reaching out…
Zhu Kun’s pupils suddenly contracted. His face twisted in pain. His heavy body dropped to its knees, then toppled sideways.
Flushed, Yue Han sat up with an indifferent expression and threw aside the object in his hand.
The styling done for him was already ruined. Ink-black hair clung damply to his forehead with sweat, a broad flush spread over his snow-white face, and his formal suit was wrinkled beyond repair.
Zhu Kun lay on the grass in a twisted posture, blood pouring from the wound on the back of his head. A bloodstained rock lay on the ground.
Yue Han turned his head toward him indifferently, one leg bent. “I want to act.”
His voice was light, almost careless.
Then he repeated it, one word at a time. “I. Want. To. Act.”
Each word rang hard and clear, making it impossible to doubt the determination behind them.
Suddenly, he whipped his head around, scarlet eyes locking onto the newcomer.
Those eyes contained stubborn determination after madness had settled, as though nothing under heaven could shake him.
Although madness remained in them, they were still clear and cold.
Two contradictory extremes collided, shocking the soul.
Yue Han’s icy gaze gradually fell onto a DSLR lens.
Luo Fanfan’s hand shook with fright. He hurriedly lowered the camera.
Yue Han did not seem afraid at all. He slowly stood, planting one foot on Zhu Kun’s calf as if deliberately using Zhu Kun’s “corpse” as a step.
He calmly looked at the people ahead. “Are you going to expose this to the media?”
Luo Fanfan’s fingers trembled under that gaze.
So that was why Lan Che had suddenly walked this way. The bastard had smelled trouble.
But why hadn’t Lan Che said anything earlier?!
Luo Fanfan had only wanted to film a vlog for Lan Che because the fans asked!
Yue Han’s face was still flushed, his ears nearly red enough to drip blood. His voice trembled slightly, but not from fear. Patiently, he repeated, “Are you going to expose it to the media?”
Luo Fanfan anxiously looked at Lan Che for help.
Lan Che seemed extraordinarily interested in Yue Han. His gaze never left him. After staring for a long time, his thin lips finally moved. “Yes.”
Yue Han smiled faintly. “All right.”
He already had more than enough scandals. He was already considered beyond saving. His acting career was already in this state.
One more scandal or one less made no difference.
After a brief moment of eye contact, Lan Che noticed Yue Han’s uneven breathing.
With an almost gracious movement, Lan Che lifted Luo Fanfan’s wrist and pointed the camera at the two people ahead. Yue Han neither hid nor dodged. He faced the lens with extraordinary calm.
Lan Che walked to Yue Han’s side and brutally kicked Zhu Kun over. Unconscious, Zhu Kun rolled once and groaned in pain, but Yue Han’s blow had been too heavy for him to wake.
Lan Che turned his head. “Did you get that?”
Luo Fanfan: “…Got it.”
Lan Che looked away and stepped closer to Yue Han.
By the moonlit pond, all was quiet. The graceful music from the main hall drifted to their ears like thousands of threads.
Lan Che lowered his gaze to the young man looking up at him. Yue Han’s warm, rapid breath moved over his face like mischievous velvet. Lan Che’s fingertips shifted. Smiling, he offered a sincere invitation. “Want to make the headlines together?”
“Brother Han, where did you run off to? I’ve been looking for you forever. Your face is red from the cold! Huh? Why did you change jackets?”
Chen Zhao chattered beside his ear. Yue Han couldn’t take in a word.
Only after standing in the cold wind for a long time had the drug’s effects faded.
During that period, Lan Che had found a doctor to draw Yue Han’s blood, saying it might be useful as evidence later.
Yue Han did not understand why Lan Che was helping him.
Just as he could not understand why Lan Che had given him a room key.
The first time, Yue Han had found it by accident. But this time?
Yue Han looked at Chen Zhao seriously. “What does it mean when someone gives you a room keycard?”
Chen Zhao froze. “They give it to you right away? Is there any emotional foundation?”
“…We’ve only met a few times. But we have met.”
“Then it means they want a hookup. A one-night stand.”
Yue Han’s expression went blank for a moment. Then he asked, “What if it’s a man?”
“…” Chen Zhao’s expression gradually became serious. “Brother Han, is some man trying to use an unspoken deal to sleep with you?”
Chen Zhao nearly jumped straight up in rage, furious like someone whose precious cabbage had been rooted up by a pig. If cameras hadn’t surrounded them, he would have cursed at the sky.
A reporter passing along the aisle glanced over and couldn’t resist stopping to lift his camera.
The person beside him pulled him away. “What are you shooting? Everyone this far back is irrelevant… Tsk. It’s actually him? If you photograph him today, forget getting paid.”
“But he’s seriously gorgeous!”
“So what if he’s gorgeous? He’s useless. Look around. Is anyone shooting him? He could pay me and I still wouldn’t.”
Chen Zhao’s face turned iron-blue with anger, his teeth grinding together.
He didn’t know what Yue Han was thinking, insisting on sitting by the entrance where cold air blew in. Even moving slightly forward would have been better than this.
Everyone else fought to sit in front. Yue Han looked as though he wished he could dig a hole and disappear into it.
Chen Zhao looked up and saw Li Yihan waving at them. Li Yihan was young and had a powerful father, so her seat was relatively far forward.
Lin Xinran sat beside her. Lin Xinran was popular but still a second-tier actress, so her position made sense.
But Yue Han sitting where he did was completely wrong.
Yue Han waved back. Li Yihan wanted to shout, then worried about embarrassing herself and began furiously typing on her phone instead.