Luo Yunyan’s seemingly relaxed fingers moved subtly—like she was sending some sort of signal.

“Miss Luo, Young Master Luo, Young Master Gu, hello. I’m Song Huanhuan.” Song Huanhuan greeted them with a sweet smile.

Luo Yunyan blinked innocently at Luo Yunzhe.
“Big Brother, do you know her?”

“Never heard of her,” Luo Yunzhe replied, not sparing Song Huanhuan a single glance.

Luo Yunyan tilted her head with a look of dawning realization.
“Oh… then I guess she’s here for Shilin-gege, huh?”

“I don’t know her either.” Gu Shilin sighed, gently patting her head.

Luo Yunzhe frowned and brushed his hand away.
“Talk with your mouth, not your hands.”

Completely ignored and dismissed, Song Huanhuan’s expression twisted for a fleeting second before she forced a smile back on.

“My father is the chairman of Song Construction. We’re not a prestigious family, so it’s understandable if you haven’t heard of us. I just wanted to say hello.”
As she spoke, she gave Luo Yunzhe a meaningful glance, her eyes filled with feigned affection.

“You’ve said hello. You can leave now,” Luo Yunzhe said flatly.

He had seen plenty of cheap tricks like this since taking over Luo Corporation. This level of scheming? Pathetic.

Luo Yunyan playfully nudged her brother.
“Song Construction… that name sounds familiar.”

“That’s the company whose heir got busted for drug abuse. There was a whole scandal online for days. No wonder it rings a bell,” Gu Shilin offered.

“Ah, right. Weren’t they previously called the Jiang family before changing it to Song?”
Luo Yunyan’s eyes locked onto Song Huanhuan’s with a slow smile.
“So, Miss Song, is there anything else?”

That smile sent an inexplicable chill down Song Huanhuan’s spine.

Avoiding eye contact, she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
“I saw there’s a piano on stage… I had the honor of being the last disciple of Master Nanyue. I wonder if I might have the privilege of performing a piece for you?”

“Nanyue’s last disciple?” Luo Yunyan’s grin widened.
“That’s odd. I’m close friends with Nanyue. Never heard he had a last disciple. And funny, I didn’t know he played piano either.”

Panic flickered across Song Huanhuan’s face, but she quickly masked it.
“Miss Luo, maybe you’ve been misled. Master Nanyue’s been in seclusion for years now, and considering his age, it’s unlikely he’s your… friend, right?”

“Oh?” Luo Yunyan tilted her head. “Well, since he’s here tonight, why don’t we let him clarify?”

Luo Yunzhe and Gu Shilin immediately understood what was happening.
Yunyan was baiting her.
They didn’t know the full story, but it didn’t matter. Luo Yunyan was always right.

The two casually sipped their drinks, smirking, as if watching a show.

Not far away, Jiang Zi’ang had already drafted a Weibo post.
The moment was perfect.
He hit send—then switched to Pluto’s official account and hit repost.

Then he strolled forward.
“I wasn’t aware I had a last disciple. And since when did I switch genders?”

The moment Song Huanhuan saw him, an unexplainable loathing surged inside her—even though she didn’t recognize him.
Something about him made her blood boil.

She pointed at him righteously.
“You shouldn’t impersonate others like this. Miss Luo might be too naive and got tricked by you, but I won’t stand by while you tarnish my master’s name.”

Tch.
Did she just call me dumb?
Backhanded insult much?

Jiang Zi’ang smirked.
“Maybe you should check your phone. Your so-called master just updated Weibo—for the first time in three years.”

Nanyue had long been a legend in both domestic and international music circles.
No one knew his real gender, age, or even face.
He never performed live—only posted recordings online.
But his status was so high, even industry giants called him God.

He vanished three years ago.
Coincidentally, that’s when Song Huanhuan started calling herself his “last disciple,” gaining popularity by association.
Her piano skills were average at best, but with that title, she racked up fans and fame.

Suddenly, notification tones chimed across the banquet hall.

Guests reached for their phones.

Even Song Huanhuan, face paling, hurriedly opened Weibo.

【@NanyueV: Lmao. I disappeared, not died. And impersonation is this cheap now? Even random dogs can go around calling themselves my disciples? I’ve never accepted a single student. Hell, you don’t even know my gender, and you’re calling me a piano master? Joke’s on you—piano’s the worst of all my instruments, and you’re still worse than me. @SongHuanhuan】

【@PlutoCorpV: Repost. Our third-in-command is so pitiful. The legal team is in place. salute emoji】

The Weibo post exploded.
Keywords shot up the trending charts:

#NanyueReturns
#NanyueNeverHadAnyDisciples
#NanyueIsPluto’sThirdBoss
#SongHuanhuanFraud
#ShamelessSongHuanhuan

Song Huanhuan’s personal page and fan groups were instantly overrun.
Some fans jumped ship. Others tried defending her.

【Nanyue!! My king is back!! Even if it’s because of this trash fire.】

【Thanks, Song Huanhuan, for revealing that Nanyue’s a guy. And probably pretty young too.】

【Lol. Nanyue’s best at guqin. Who said piano?】

【Girl, no one would care about you without that fake title.】

【OG fan here. I said years ago her skills were crap, and I got doxxed and stalked for it. Had to move cities and developed depression.】

【It’s not that serious. She just pretended to be a disciple. She was only 20. Probably her agency’s fault. She’s a victim too.】

【Yeah, everyone makes mistakes. Forgive and forget!】

【What’s Nanyue’s problem? Just a keyboard player. She should be honored someone wanted to be her student.】

【Shut it. You probably can’t even play “Chopsticks.” Fan and idol—both trash.】

【…Did y’all miss the part where Pluto reposted it? Nanyue’s a boss. With Luo family backing.】

【Shh. I’m pretending I didn’t read that. Let me live.】

【So Nanyue didn’t quit. He was out there building an empire. And nailed it.】

And to anyone crying “cyberbullying”?
Don’t forget—Song Huanhuan once destroyed a rival with false rumors.
The other girl jumped off a building.

And back in school?
She was queen of bullies.
Anyone prettier, smarter, or more popular got crushed.

Now you want to talk morality? Please.

None of the three—Luo Yunyan, Jiang Zi’ang, or Jiang Yining—ever pretended to be saints.
They simply gave her a taste of her own medicine.
And honestly, this was just the appetizer.

With people now pointing and whispering, Song Huanhuan’s face turned ghostly pale.
She bowed deeply to Jiang Zi’ang.
“I’m sorry, Master Nanyue. I was wrong to claim to be your student. Please forgive me.”

Jiang Zi’ang coldly stepped aside.
“You’ve got a lot more to apologize for than just this.”

After their mother’s death, he and his sister had been forced to live in squalor.
Song Huanhuan once poured boiling water on them on purpose.
His sister had shielded him and ended up with severe burns across her back.
He still had scars on his arm.

Sensing Jiang Zi’ang’s mood spiraling, Luo Yunyan stepped forward and gently tugged him back, pushing him toward Luo Yunzhe.
“Big Brother, keep an eye on him. Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Then she turned to Song Huanhuan with a smile that sent chills down spines.
“Miss Song, no need to rush an apology.”
She tilted her head.
“We’re just getting started.”

(End of Chapter)