After leaving Kuang Xingran’s apartment, Mu Wan went to the First Music Hall. She had already signed up online and just needed to check in to confirm her participation. The competition she had signed up for was a small local contest in S city, called “The Melodious Sound.”

Mu Wan was preparing for next year’s Paganini International Violin Competition. It was one of the most prestigious international music events and one of the four major violin competitions. She wanted to give herself an answer for both her lives, just like Kuang Ye. She wanted to fight for a world championship for herself.

Before that, however, Mu Wan needed to keep participating in competitions, accumulating experience, regaining her former skills, and even improving beyond them.

After checking in, Mu Wan, on a whim, went to the competition’s venue and stood on the empty, silent stage. She smiled, stretched out her hand, and clapped it against the air.

This is my stage. I’m back.

After this action, Mu Wan suddenly felt a little embarrassed. She quickly looked around to make sure no one saw her, and then slipped away.

She walked quickly, and behind her, a girl carrying a violin case, who had also come to check in, looked at her back and felt an odd sense of familiarity. She shook her head. It was impossible. The three-time Stern Violin Competition champion, how could she come to this small competition? Although it had been over a year since anyone had heard from her in the classical music circle, everyone knew she was from a wealthy family. It wasn’t impossible for her to suddenly get bored with it all.

—

For the next period of time, Mu Wan entered her violin rehabilitation phase. It was easy to give up, but hard to pick it up again. Even though she had over ten years of foundation, it was still far from reaching the level needed to compete in top international events.

Sometimes, to relax, Mu Wan would log in and play games. After a while, excluding Kuang Ye’s influence, she started to enjoy the game. Like now…

Double kill.

Triple Kill

Mu Wan achieved her first-ever triple kill and was so excited that she almost stood up from her chair. It turns out that getting kills was the most fun part of the game. Her teammates were praising her in the chat group, and Mu Wan humbly typed on the keyboard, [just so so]. After playing the game for a while, she had picked up some casual, broken English, just like many others who had spent a lot of time gaming.

The match ended in victory, as expected. Mu Wan was in a great mood, sipping on the milk tea that had just been delivered. Life was so wonderful. Suddenly, her phone rang. She glanced at the unfamiliar number and ignored it. But the caller was persistent.

Mu Wan sighed and reluctantly answered, “Hello, you dialed the wrong number—”

“Wanwan, it’s me. Stop being stubborn. I admit I lied to you before. Li Shuqin was pursuing me, but I didn’t agree. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d misunderstand—”

Click. Mu Wan quickly hung up the phone, setting it to block calls from unknown numbers. As for Kuang Shuyu, she couldn’t be bothered to waste even a second on him.

“Crazy person, my good mood after the triple kill is ruined,” Mu Wan muttered. She didn’t mind swearing since no one was around. Suddenly, she saw a familiar name online in the friend list and quickly sent an invitation. But the person didn’t respond.

Mu Wan was puzzled. Was I really that bad at the game? Or maybe I hadn’t spent enough money on skins?

After a while, a message popped up in the internal chat from O Lan, a popular streamer.

O Lan (Streamer): Wan, wait for me to finish my stream, then let’s queue up together. Last time we played, so many people said I was riding on your popularity, and my stream was reported several times.

Mu Wan: …

Her brows furrowed, and her mood worsened. She quickly downloaded the Xingchen Streaming platform app on her computer, searched for O Lan, and entered the livestream. As expected, as O Lan had mentioned, the comment section was full of hateful remarks. The words used were downright malicious.

[Streamer, turn off your screen, are you going to scam rich women again?]
[Your skills are bad, but you’re good at using underhanded methods, turning Black Iron into Gold, took skins from dozens of people, you have no shame.]
[You’re the type of streamer that ruins the scene, wishing cancer and AIDS on everyone, stupid idiot.]
[Look at your main account’s stats, you’re terrible, trying to ride on a normal person’s fame, shameless.]
[HW streamers still need to watch the number one in Xinchen Streaming platform, Cao Shang Fei, his skills are top-tier and he helps his fans rank up for free, no drama like this.]
[Streamer, die already. Pretending to be pitiful about your sister’s chemotherapy, lying without a bottom line. Just die, die, die.]

Mu Wan’s expression darkened. The boy on the screen wore headphones, looking around 17 or 18 years old. Although he tried to look calm, his slightly reddened eyes and the helplessness beneath them exposed his vulnerability. She suspected that the keyboard warriors in the comments section probably had no mothers. How dare they bully a child?

She created a new account, logged in, and tried to explain calmly.

[It’s Wan, I don’t mind him riding on my fame. He’s a skilled player, not bad!]

O Lan’s skills were indeed good. He could carry in mid-lane, jungle, and ADC roles. While he wasn’t as good as professionals, he was better than most people, or he wouldn’t be making a living as a game streamer. But her comment quickly got buried in the fast-moving chat. It barely caused a ripple.

Mu Wan: …

She furiously copied her message and sent it again, hoping to draw attention. Finally, it caught some people’s eye, but all she received were relentless mockery.

[Oh, wow, looks like the streamer hired a bunch of bots, an empty new account, no profile pic, probably pretending to be a rich woman to calm the situation. So trashy.]
[Or maybe it’s the streamer’s leg hair, but this is clearly fake. Wan is a rich woman, how could she have a blank account?]
[Poor idiot pretending to be a rich woman, but it’s not convincing.]

Mu Wan: …

Her hand trembled as she gripped the mouse. She could accept being called fake, but being called poor? That, she couldn’t tolerate.