Bai Wanjun tossed the broken violin into the trash, then followed it with Shi Han’s perfectly fine one. She glanced at Shi Han, who still looked like she wanted to argue, and said coldly, “Don’t bother learning violin anymore. It doesn’t suit you.”

Shi Han stared blankly at the two violins in the bin.

One was a QUEEN.

The other, just an ordinary violin.

It was like a silent declaration of where Shi Yin and she stood in Bai Wanjun’s heart.

And the piece she’d practiced for a whole month—gone, discarded on her own birthday.

From that day on, she never played the violin in front of the Shi family again.

Shi Han let out a bitter laugh.

The people who mattered, the things she once held dear—those memories had gone blurry. But the hurt? That stayed sharp and clear.

She didn’t even understand why she’d clung to the idea of family so desperately back then.

She placed the violin back in Shi Yin’s arms and turned to leave.

She wore a light green sleep dress that stopped just above her knees. Her legs—smooth, fair, and perfectly shaped—were bare beneath the hem. The sight stirred an uncontainable wave of envy in Shi Yin’s heart. She tightened her grip on the violin and called out to Shi Han.

Shi Han had been wandering on her own for two years—there was no way she could compare to her now.

Shi Yin smiled, shedding her earlier timidity. Her voice took on a proud, lofty edge.
“Sister, the famous violinist Clé really admires my playing. She’s going to take me as her student in a month. Will you be there?”

She took a couple of steps toward Shi Han, her eyes fixed on her half-turned face, and added smugly, “You probably haven’t played in a long time, so you might not know who Master Clé is. She’s won multiple international awards—one of the few Chinese violinists who’s made a name for herself abroad.”

“So what?” Shi Han turned fully now, leaning in slightly, her almond-shaped eyes bright as she looked at her.

So… shouldn’t you be jealous of her?

Shi Yin bit her lip hard. Still, she asked again, “Will you come?”

Shi Han smiled and held out her hand. “Hand it over.”

“What?”

“My answer.”

Shi Han took the violin from Shi Yin’s arms, rested it on her shoulder, and played the same piece Shi Yin had performed at noon.

The same melody echoed in the room, but moments later, the color slowly drained from Shi Yin’s face.

She remembered the fear from two years ago—that creeping, inescapable dread as Shi Han steadily overtook her.

Everyone praised her talent with the violin, but only she knew the truth: Shi Han was the real prodigy.

No matter how hard she tried, she could never catch up.

As the piece ended, Shi Han calmly placed the violin back into her arms. She leaned down, voice low and deliberate beside Shi Yin’s ear.

“Shi Yin, just like last time—you’re nothing but a rat hiding in the shadows.”

Shi Yin froze, her entire body going rigid. It was as if her blood stopped flowing. Their eyes met, and in that instant, all her carefully laid schemes were exposed.

She had always known.

She had known the truth all along—that Shi Yin had broken her violin on purpose.

But she had just been trying to protect herself. She had been afraid that once Shi Han became outstanding, their parents would abandon her. So, she’d done everything she could to hold on to her place in the family.

Shi Han didn’t even spare her a glance. She pulled a wet wipe from the piano stand and casually wiped her fingers.

“You still sure you want to invite me, Shi Yin?”

Shi Yin’s face was drained of all color. Her lips parted slightly, but not a single word came out.

The one thing she prided herself on most was her violin. She had practiced relentlessly, day after day, convinced that by now, she could easily outshine Shi Han. But in the end, everything she held onto—every ounce of pride—had been shattered by Shi Han’s hands.

At some point, Shi Han had slipped away unnoticed.

Just then, Bai Wanjun walked in, carrying a cup of warm milk.

“Yinyin, it’s so late—why are you still practicing? Drink this and get some rest, okay?”

Shi Yin snapped out of it, still pale as a ghost. “I… I’m just afraid I’ll make a mistake and embarrass my teacher.”

“Nonsense,” Bai Wanjun said gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I was just in my room and heard your playing. You’ve improved so much since this afternoon. Master Clé was right—you really do have a gift for the violin.”

The praise landed like a slap across Shi Yin’s face.

=^_^=