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{Chapter: 172 Shocked Qiao Siying, the strangeness of Mei Yuxian!}
Many of the guests in the grand banquet hall—especially the women—could not hold back their emotions. Tears glistened in their eyes, and some openly wept, touched to their very core by the love story carried through Lin Yuan's piano performance.
But it wasn't just the women.
There were men, too—men who normally prided themselves on their composure and emotional control—who found themselves affected in ways they hadn't expected.
Among them was Qiao Jianye.
The middle-aged man, known for his fierce reputation in both the business world and politics, stood motionless, a single tear silently falling down his cheek. He didn't even bother to wipe it away.
From the very first note Lin Yuan had played until the final lingering chord, not a single sound had interrupted the music. No coughing, no shifting, not even a whisper had dared break the spell.
And when Lin Yuan finally removed his hands from the piano and let the last note fade into the silence, the entire hall seemed suspended in a trance.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
They had only just begun to "react"—though even calling it a reaction felt too casual.
It was more like waking up from a vivid dream.
The moment Lin Yuan stopped playing, the breathtaking 3d imagery that had enveloped everyone—the imaginary world of the lovestruck king and the statue who became his bride—shattered like glass, disappearing into the air as if it had never been there.
But the music, the emotion, the story… they remained.
Even though it had ended, the melody still echoed.
It resounded in their ears, played on repeat in their minds, haunting and beautiful, as though their hearts refused to let it go.
No one criticized the lingering hallucination. No one tried to fight the memory. In fact, most of them felt lucky—blessed, even—to have witnessed such an experience.
They didn't want it to end.
They craved it again.
If they could, they would have asked Lin Yuan to play forever—just so they could remain in that enchanted realm, wrapped in sound and story.
"This music is divine…"
That was the shared thought rippling silently through the room.
And suddenly, Lin Yuan's earlier arrogance—the so-called insult to Ye Feng—was no longer on their minds. Or rather, they understood it now. Understood that it wasn't arrogance.
It was simply truth.
Compared to Lin Yuan's performance, Ye Feng's earlier piece was like a child's clumsy scribble next to a masterpiece.
Then, someone started to clap.
It was unclear who did it first, but once the dam broke, a wave followed.
Thunderous applause erupted across the hall, rising in volume until it reverberated through the marble floors and high ceilings.
It was not polite clapping.
It was sincere, instinctive, unstoppable.
They clapped for beauty. For passion. For magic. For Lin Yuan.
Even Qiao Jianye, who had come with a personal vendetta against Lin Yuan, found himself clapping harder than anyone around him.
He couldn't help it.
"That was incredible! Truly… incredible!" someone shouted amidst the applause.
"It felt like I wasn't even in the hall anymore! I was that king… I felt everything—his longing, his love, his sorrow, and his joy!"
"Hah! You? A king? Please. You're more like a frog in a well."
"Stop arguing! None of you are worthy of being that romantic and handsome king. Only Lin Yuan is! If anything, I should be the statue who turned into a beautiful woman. Lin Yuan and I are destined to be together forever!"
"Get lost! Young Master Lin belongs to me!"
Voices clashed and mingled in both humor and admiration. The mood had shifted completely.
All around, people who had moments ago been cynical, skeptical, or even mocking were now full of praise—pure, unfiltered admiration.
"I didn't think so before," one woman whispered to her friend. "But now that I've heard Lin Yuan play… Ye Feng's performance was painful."
"So that's what he meant…" another nodded. "When Lin Yuan said Ye Feng didn't even pass the line, it wasn't mockery—it was generosity! He was holding back! If I had to rate it, Lin Yuan gets 100 points, and Ye Feng... gets a negative score!"
The entire room now sang Lin Yuan's praises.
It was a chorus of admiration, reverence, and perhaps even a little obsession.
This was a complete reversal from the earlier atmosphere.
Ye Feng, standing in the corner, could do nothing but listen to the voices surrounding him. Every word felt like a needle. He clenched his fists, his face pale and lips tight.
His original plan had been simple.
He had thought Lin Yuan's appearance would only serve to elevate his own performance—to make Ye Feng shine brighter by comparison.
But reality had flipped the script entirely.
His performance, which he had been proud of, now seemed like a footnote. A forgettable warm-up.
And worst of all—it was his performance that had led to Lin Yuan's showcase. He had set the stage for his own humiliation.
To be fair, Ye Feng wasn't a bad pianist.
In fact, under normal circumstances, he might even have been called impressive.
But Lin Yuan's playing wasn't just "better." It was in a different league. A different universe.
Lin Yuan looked better, played better, was better. In the eyes of the crowd, Ye Feng didn't even exist anymore.
They didn't care about technical skill or theory.
They only remembered how Lin Yuan's music had made them feel.
And feelings… were stronger than facts.
To them, Lin Yuan hadn't just played a piece—he had given them a miracle.
Yan Ruyue and Gui Qingtong, having long known about Lin Yuan's extraordinary talent, were already mentally prepared. They had seen him like this before—entranced at the piano, transforming reality into something magical.
But others, like Qiao Siying and Mei Yuxian, were utterly stunned.
They had no preparation for what they had just experienced.
As Qiao Siying stared blankly at the stage, she suddenly realized something.
This was the same man she had mocked before. The same man she had thought was nothing more than an arrogant, uneducated young master.
Her first impression of him had begun to change after the day they raced.
He had humiliated her that day—defeated her in a way she hadn't expected.
But any improvement in her opinion was ruined when he—brash and unrelenting—pinched her breasts.
She had even ridiculed him publicly for not being skilled in traditionally respected arts such as chess, calligraphy, and painting. To her, Lin Yuan was merely a spoiled playboy—a man proficient only in indulging himself with food, drink, and women.
But today's performance had shattered her long-standing perception of him.
Qiao Siying was truly stunned. She had studied piano herself and, precisely because of her own experience, she understood the sheer depth and complexity in Lin Yuan's playing. His melody wasn't just beautiful—it was soul-stirring, layered with emotions that transcended words. Every note struck with precision and elegance, yet carried an underlying force that tugged at her heart.
To her ears, Lin Yuan had produced the most moving piano sound she had ever heard in her life.
There was only one recent performance she could even remotely compare it to—the mysterious singer behind the song Blue and White Porcelain. But even then, Lin Yuan's live piano performance had something even more magical. It was raw, genuine, and incredibly powerful.
As she continued to look at Lin Yuan, her gaze was filled with complexity—there was shock, admiration, curiosity, and perhaps, a touch of something more.
She was no longer sure of the version of Lin Yuan she thought she knew.
On the other side of the room, Mei Yuxian was also staring at Lin Yuan, though the look in her eyes was slightly different. Hers was a gaze of intrigue and reevaluation.
So this is Lin Yuan's piano skill? she thought, slightly taken aback.
For the first time, she began to understand why her daughter, Gui Qingtong, had fallen for Lin Yuan.
And it wasn't just because he was handsome or wealthy.
As Lin Yuan's music echoed in her memory, Mei Yuxian's heart—one that had been dormant and untouched for many years—stirred with emotion. It had been a long time since she felt something resonate so deeply. The way he conveyed the story of a king's eternal love, one that defied time and space, pierced directly into her soul.
It was poetic. It was powerful. And it was real.
Meanwhile, Lin Jianjun and Meng Yuelan exchanged glances, both equally dumbfounded.
'When did our son become this skilled at the piano?' their eyes seemed to ask.
They watched as many of the distinguished young women present looked at Lin Yuan with eyes full of heat, admiration and little bit of lust. For the first time, they wondered whether their previous worries about Lin Yuan staying single for life had been a little premature.
[Ding! Qiao Siying's favorability +5! Reward: 200 Counterattack Points!]
[Ding! Mei Yuxian's favorability +5! Reward: 200 Counterattack Points!]
The system's mechanical voice rang clearly in Lin Yuan's mind, announcing the rewards triggered by his performance. His lips curled slightly in satisfaction.
It was working—just as he intended.
Music was, after all, a weapon of the soul. A force that could disarm the mind and stir the heart far more effectively than words ever could.
But for Lin Yuan, this was merely the beginning.
His gaze swept across the silent, awe-filled audience before settling once again on the man who had challenged him earlier—Ye Feng.
With a pleasant and almost casual tone, Lin Yuan smiled and said, "Ye Feng, did you learn anything today?"
A subtle ripple of excitement passed through the audience as their attention shifted toward Ye Feng.
Everyone now turned to look at him, awaiting his response.
Ye Feng, under the pressure of countless stares, immediately wiped the gloomy look off his face and forced a smile—one so awkward it looked like he was crying inside.
"Thank you, Young Master Lin, for the guidance. I've definitely gained some insight," Ye Feng replied stiffly, trying to act humble and grateful.
It was clear to everyone that Lin Yuan's words had been nothing short of a public slap across Ye Feng's face. It wasn't just a loss—it was utter humiliation.
But Ye Feng was smart enough to know that throwing a tantrum or trying to argue would only make things worse. So instead, he bowed his head slightly and pretended to take it as a lesson, hoping to salvage what little reputation he had left.
As expected, once Ye Feng offered a polite reply, many of the guests shifted their attention back to Lin Yuan, no longer interested in Ye Feng.
Yet Ye Feng couldn't hide the anger simmering inside.
His fists clenched quietly at his side.
What infuriated him the most wasn't Lin Yuan's words—but the attention he had stolen. The fiery, admiring gazes that once belonged to Ye Feng were now all fixed on Lin Yuan.
Lin Yuan was more attractive.
Lin Yuan's piano skills were unmatched.
Even his family background towered over Ye Feng's.
In the face of all these advantages, how could anyone continue to look at Ye Feng?
Everything he had worked so hard to build—his image, his confidence, his charm—had crumbled in the span of a few short minutes.
But Lin Yuan wasn't finished yet.
He smiled again, his eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned in with a follow-up question.
"Ye Feng, tell me honestly—do you think any part of my performance just now was unstable? Were there any parts of my performance just now wherein the keys and notes were not stable?"
Ye Feng's face stiffened.
He didn't understand why Lin Yuan would ask such a question now, but the pressure of the crowd's attention left him no room to escape.
With great reluctance, he gritted his teeth and replied, "None."
"Then that settles it," Lin Yuan said, still smiling. "We can safely conclude that there was nothing wrong with the piano or the keys earlier… so the only explanation is that your own playing skill just isn't quite where you thought it was."
His words, though spoken with a soft smile, were sharper than any blade.
And they landed cleanly—another strike, another blow.