The concert began, and the lights around dimmed, all focusing on the center of the stage.
The audience in the grand theater held their breath, fully engrossed in watching the stage. Rosie also slowly followed the audience's gaze, looking over.
Golden light shone on a young girl in a white long dress. She had a small face and large eyes, with an angelic demeanor. Between her legs was a cello, and the moment the strings trembled, a sorrowful and desolate tune filled the entire theater.
Isabella Scott had almond-shaped eyes from a young age, with brown pupils, fresh and elegant. When she smiled, it seemed as if the air around her was sweet.
Few people would criticize someone who smiles so sweetly all day, thinking she was just a pure and kind girl.
However, only those who have suffered setbacks would realize that some people are two-faced grinning demons from a young age, full of malice, selfish to the core, and willing to stop at nothing to achieve their goals.
Rosie kept her side profile tight, her gaze like it was frozen, her hand under the table clenched so tightly her fingertips turned white. She disliked musical instruments, especially the cello.
Charles noticed from the corner of his eye that her entire body was trembling slightly, such unusual behavior. He was somewhat curious, why did the girl look so full of hatred?
"I'm going to the bathroom." Rosie stiffly stood up, covering her chest with one hand, looking very uncomfortable.
Charles kept his gaze on the gradually receding figure of the woman. He had once heard of a kind of psychological disorder causing someone to want to vomit upon seeing someone they absolutely detest.
Isabella, who was playing the cello at the center of the stage, glanced in their direction. When she saw Charles, she couldn't help but be a bit surprised and accidentally played the wrong note, so harsh that even non-experts could tell it was a mistake.
Charles sat in his wheelchair, back straight, face calm, with eyes full of indifference.
Suddenly, from one side of the stage, a blond man shouted loudly, his Mandarin stuttered but filled with anger: "Let, me be a foil for such a novice, truly, unreasonable, I want to return to my country and never come to this, damned place again."
"Carl!"
"Oh my, it's the internationally renowned pianist Carl."
"No wonder Carl is upset, being a foil for someone who plays the wrong note hurts the face of an international master."
"I came from afar just to see Carl, make that novice on stage get off, Mr. Carl, we only want to hear you play the piano."
"Yes, get off, get off."
Isabella got so flustered she broke the cello strings. Her eyes turned red in anxiety, looking at Adam Anderson for help.
Adam couldn't stand seeing such an angelic girl in tears, feeling heartbroken he rushed onto the stage and hugged her tightly, waving his hand and loudly proclaiming: "Stop that foreigner playing the piano."
When Rosie re-entered the theater, the scene was in chaos. Audience members surrounded the blond man, and on the stage, Adam was comforting Isabella in every possible way. The only one in the venue who remained calm was Charles sitting in his wheelchair.
Amidst the noisy atmosphere, he stood out like a hot spring in a snowy mountain, flowing gently yet quietly melting the ice and snow into nothingness.
The crowd tightly surrounded Carl, trying to persuade him: "Master Carl, please play us a piece, we all came specifically to see you."
"Yes, Master Carl, if we don't hear your music this time, it will surely be a lifetime regret."
Rosie perked up her ears to listen for a while, then calmly adjusted her skirt and sat back down: "Isabella's cello playing was so bad, it drove Carl away?"
"Hmm," Charles responded with a slight nasal sound.
"Was this concert funded by Mr. Anderson?" Rosie had been curious about whose backing allowed Isabella to perform in such a prestigious venue. It turned out to be this sharp-tongued, jail-bird tycoon.
She originally thought Isabella was performing here based on her own talent, but it turned out to be based on her bedroom skills.
Rosie tugged at the man's pants, suddenly leaning closer to his ear: "Have you heard Carl play the piano live before?"
Charles looked down at the girl's delicate hand tugging at his trousers fabric; her slender, long fingers were as white as jade. Sensing the cunning glint in her fox-like eyes, the man didn't bother to guess her intentions, simply saying, "Never heard."
"I haven't either." The girl said with a smile, standing up as the French chic dress she wore swayed elegantly.
She walked towards the stage, passing by Isabella without even sparing her a glance, treating her like air.
Isabella, who was sobbing uncontrollably, became even more enraged seeing her arrogant cousin at such a time, stomping her feet and crying harder.
Adam held her tightly, softly consoling her.
Below the stage, Charles tilted his head slightly, finally seeing what Rosie intended to do. She seated herself elegantly at the piano, delicate fingers on the keys, her long crow-feather lashes closed tightly, her chin slightly raised, looking as exquisite as a Barbie doll in its box.
The next moment, like a trickling stream, piano notes flowed from her fingertips. The bustling theater instantly fell silent, everyone turning their heads simultaneously to look at the stage.
No one had ever played this melody before, perhaps it was an unknown wild tune, not grand and magnificent, but perfect for soothing the heart, with notes flowing like warm currents into one's heart, alleviating anxiety and unease.
Surprisingly melodious, inexplicably touching one's heart.
As a pianist, Carl was the most authoritative judge here. The redness on his face began to dissipate with the piano melody's presence. He staggered from the back rows to the front, through the crowd, slowly making his way onto the stage.
Golden light fell on the girl absorbed in playing the piano, and at that moment, in Carl's eyes, she seemed like a deity.
This piece, how did she know…
After she finished playing, silence reigned, and Carl approached her, eyes brimming with tears, asking in his broken Mandarin: "How, do you, know this piece?"
Rosie was taken aback for a moment. She had heard this piece in her previous life abroad, composed by Carl himself, albeit the piece's meaning remained unknown to her.
Carl's sapphire-blue eyes were as beautiful as crystals, as he choked while saying: "So, in this world, there truly is a kindred spirit."
"This piece I wrote for my late wife, over nearly a decade, and the ending always fell short of my expectations. Today, the way you played the ending truly spoke to me." Carl's appreciative gaze touched the softest part of the girl's heart.
"Uh... I..." Rosie was at a loss for words to explain.
Meanwhile, Isabella, standing off to the side of the stage with her face turning green, felt utterly humiliated. Not only was she left exposed, but her cousin also stole the limelight. She initially intended to complain to Adam, but turning around, she saw Adam staring at her cousin with a smitten expression.
She stomped her foot angrily and left.
Adam realized this and shouted: "Isabella, where are you going? Wait for me!"
Carl took a moment to compose himself before speaking again.
"What is your, name?" Carl tightly held Rosie's hand: "Can we, be, friends?"