Saturday morning arrived with a crisp autumn chill, but the atmosphere around the Moon City Grand Theater was blazing hot. As the premier cultural venue in the province, the theater was currently surrounded by a sea of luxury vehicles. Rolls Royces, Bentleys, and limited-edition sports cars clogged the drop-off zone.
Today was not just an audition; it was a pilgrimage. The legendary Maestro Weiss had descended upon Moon City, and the elite class had turned out in full force to witness the selection of his new disciple.
Vera stood near the ticket check, smoothing the skirt of her Chanel suit. She held three tickets tightly in her hand. They were for the "Family & Friends" section—not the front row, but still highly coveted seats that money couldn't buy on the open market.
"Faye, stand up straight," Vera instructed, her eyes scanning the crowd. "Remember, you are representing the Lane family today. Don't look nervous."
Faye nodded, clutching her violin case. She wore a pale blue chiffon dress that made her look ethereal, like a muse of music. Beside her, Xavier stood tall in a tailored charcoal suit. He looked every bit the young heir, his expression calm and supportive.
"Don't worry, Auntie," Xavier said politely, shielding Faye from a passing group of loud tourists. "Faye has prepared for months. Maestro Weiss is known for being strict, but he is also fair. Talent will speak for itself."
Just as they were about to move toward the queue, Vera's smile froze. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a figure walking along the perimeter of the plaza.
It was Ren.
She was wearing an oversized black trench coat that swallowed her slender frame, with a black baseball cap pulled low over her eyes. She walked with her hands in her pockets, her posture slouched and lazy, completely at odds with the high-society atmosphere. Behind her trailed Juan and Luke, looking equally relaxed.
"Why is she here?" Vera hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. "Does she have no shame? This is a high-class event. If she falls asleep inside and starts snoring, the Lane family will be the laughingstock of the city."
Faye frowned, gripping her violin case tighter. "Maybe she bought a scalped ticket. Mom, ignore her. Let's just go in."
They watched as Ren bypassed the long line for the main entrance. Instead, she veered toward a heavy, nondescript black copper door on the far side of the building. Two massive bodyguards in earpieces stood in front of it, their arms crossed, looking like stone statues.
"Is she crazy?" Vera scoffed. "That's the VVIP entrance. Only people like the Mayor or foreign dignitaries can use that door. Does she think she can just waltz in?"
Vera waited for the scene she expected: the bodyguards stopping Ren, humiliating her, and perhaps throwing her out.
But the scene never came.
As Ren approached, the stone-faced bodyguards didn't block her path. Instead, their expressions shifted to immediate, disciplined respect. One of them stepped forward, bowed forty-five degrees, and pulled the heavy copper door open. He even extended a gloved hand to shield the top of the doorframe, ensuring Ren wouldn't bump her head as she strolled inside without even breaking her stride.
Juan and Luke followed her in, and the heavy door closed silently behind them, sealing them into a world Vera couldn't even imagine.
Vera's jaw dropped. She stood there, ticket in hand, looking like a fish gasping for air.
"Did... did the security guards just let her in? Are they blind?"
Xavier's eyes darkened. He stared at the closed black door, his mind racing. That entrance led directly to the private boxes on the third tier. Even his father would have to make an appointment to use that door.
How did Ren do it?
***
Inside the theater, the atmosphere was hushed and reverent.
High above the main floor, in the central VVIP box, the view was unparalleled. The box was plush, lined with red velvet and gold trim, isolated from the noise and the crowd below.
Ren sat on a soft leather sofa, kicking her legs up onto the coffee table. The darkness of the box hid her from the thousands of eyes below.
Juan sat beside her, peeling a tangerine. The citrus scent cut through the stale air of the theater. He handed her a segment, his movements casual and practiced.
"Nice view," Juan commented, looking down at the stage through the one-way glass. "Old Weiss really went all out for you."
Ren chewed the tangerine, looking bored. "He's dramatic."
Down below, at the judges' table in the center of the first row, Maestro Weiss was slumped in his chair. He wore an old-fashioned tailcoat and looked less like a world-famous conductor and more like a grumpy grandfather who had been denied his afternoon nap.
He kept checking his phone, slamming it face-down on the table every few seconds.
"That heartless girl!" Weiss grumbled to the elegant woman sitting next to him—Mrs. Fitz, the Mayor's wife. "I sent her eighty text messages! Eighty! Do you know what she replied? 'Busy.' Just one word! Does she have no respect for her teacher?"
Mrs. Fitz sipped her tea, hiding a smile behind her cup. "Perhaps you are too loud, Maestro."
"Too loud?" Weiss huffed. "I'm trying to give her the world! If I don't find a student who satisfies me today, I'm going to sit at the gate of her school and play the accordion until she comes out!"
"Please don't," Mrs. Fitz laughed softly. "My husband already has enough headaches dealing with her."
***
The audition began.
Candidate after candidate took the stage. They were the best young violinists in the province, but Weiss looked unimpressed. He yawned openly, doodled on his score sheet, and occasionally waved a hand to cut a performance short.
The tension in the hall grew. Was no one good enough?
"Next candidate," the announcer's voice boomed. "Faye."
Faye walked onto the stage. The spotlight hit her, illuminating her pale dress and her determined face.
In the audience, Vera clutched Xavier's arm. "This is it," she whispered. "Watch."
Faye placed the violin under her chin. She closed her eyes, remembering the melody she had heard in the attic. She raised her bow.
The first note rang out.
It wasn't the standard, polite classical opening everyone expected. It was a sharp, aggressive cry of the strings. The melody that followed was wild, turbulent, and full of raw emotion. It sounded like a storm tearing through a forest.
Maestro Weiss, who had been on the verge of falling asleep, snapped his eyes open.
He sat up straight, his gaze locking onto the girl on stage.
*That melody...*
*That structure...*
It was exactly what he had been looking for. It was the sound of the "ghost" he had heard on that grainy recording months ago!
Faye played with everything she had. She poured her anxiety, her jealousy, and her ambition into the strings. The music soared, filling the vast theater.
When she finished the final note with a dramatic flourish of the bow, the hall was silent for a heartbeat.
Then, thunderous applause erupted.
Vera jumped to her feet, tears streaming down her face. "That's my daughter! That's Faye!"
Around her, people whispered in awe. "She's amazing." "She's definitely the one."
Maestro Weiss stood up. He didn't even use the microphone initially; his voice carried with the force of his excitement.
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"
He grabbed the microphone, his face flushed. "Girl, tell me, did you arrange this piece yourself?"
Faye stood center stage, breathless, her heart swelling with triumph. She looked at the legendary maestro, then scanned the dark audience.
"Yes, Maestro," Faye said into the microphone, her voice trembling slightly. "It came to me in a burst of inspiration over the summer."
"Genius!" Weiss proclaimed, spreading his arms. "This is what I have been waiting for! The structure, the emotion—it breaks the mold of the academy! Child, you have a gift!"
The audience gasped. To be called a genius by Weiss was a golden ticket to the international stage. Faye's future was set. She had won.
***
In the VVIP box, Luke whistled low. "Wow. I hate to say it, but she played that pretty well. The old man seems to love it."
Ren didn't clap. She finished the last segment of her tangerine and wiped her hands on a tissue. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of amusement and cold disdain.
"She played it well?" Ren asked softly. "She changed the key."
"What?" Luke asked.
"The original composition was in D major," Ren said, picking up her phone. "The bridge requires a rapid string-crossing technique that demands extreme finger strength and speed. Faye couldn't handle it, so she transposed it to C major to make the fingering easier. And that vibrato..." Ren shook her head. "It's greasy. Like she dipped the bow in lard."
Ren unlocked her phone. She opened the message thread with **"Old Weiss"**.
Her thumbs moved quickly.
***
On the judges' table, Weiss was still beaming at Faye, ready to announce her as his finalist.
Suddenly, his phone, which lay face-down on the table, buzzed.
It was a specific vibration pattern.
Weiss froze. His heart skipped a beat.
*Her?*
He snatched the phone up, his hands trembling with anticipation.
He unlocked the screen.
There was one new message from **Disciple**.
**[ Ren: The vibrato in the third measure is greasy. It sounds like a pig squealing. And the bridge variation—she transposed it from D to C to hide the fact that her fingers are too slow. It's disgusting. Don't tell people I know you if you pick this fraud. ]**
Weiss read the message.
He read it again.
The smile on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a look of dawning horror.
He looked up at Faye, who was still smiling confidently on stage.
The filter of excitement shattered. With Ren's words in his mind, he replayed the performance in his head.
*Transposed to C major...*
*Greasy vibrato...*
Yes. Now that he thought about it, the technical execution *was* too safe. The "wildness" was calculated, not natural. She had taken a piece of raw, difficult genius and polished it into something safe and commercial.
A true genius would never compromise the integrity of the music for the sake of easier fingering.
This wasn't a genius. This was a counterfeit.
The atmosphere in the theater shifted. The audience noticed the sudden change in Weiss's demeanor. He sank back into his chair, the light in his eyes replaced by a cold, sharp scrutiny.
"You say this was your inspiration?" Weiss asked into the microphone. His voice was no longer warm; it was icy.
Faye's smile faltered. She sensed the change, but she didn't understand it. "Yes... yes, Maestro."
"Is that so?" Weiss looked at the text message one last time, then looked at Faye with a sneer. "Then explain to me why you used such a greasy, excessive vibrato in the third measure? Were you trying to convey emotion, or were you trying to cover up an unstable pitch? And why did you drop the key in the bridge? Was the original key too hard for you?"
The silence in the theater was deafening.
The applause died instantly.
Vera's hands fell to her sides. Xavier frowned, leaning forward.
Faye stood on stage, her face draining of color. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
*How did he know?*
How did he pinpoint the exact weakness she had tried to hide? It was as if someone had handed him an X-ray of her performance.
High above them, in the darkness of the VVIP box, Ren tossed the crumpled tissue into the trash can.
"Showtime's over," she murmured, pulling her cap down. "Let's go."
**[Chapter 55 End]**