The livestream blinked on without warning—no countdown, no glittering intro, just a clean frame capturing Bai Lanyue seated before a black lacquered guzheng. Her posture was regal, almost too perfect, and the backdrop behind her was a sheer white curtain that let the soft golden light of the setting sun bleed through.
She was dressed in muted red, the sleeves of her robe pooling delicately around her wrists. Her face remained unreadable, eyes lowered to the instrument as her fingers poised above the strings.
There was no greeting.
No smile.
Just silence.
And then the music began.
The first notes sliced through the hush like silver threads. The tune was not gentle—it came with a cold edge, each pluck deliberate, as though she was stitching a story together one sharp sound at a time. Her fingers moved quickly, and the camera caught every shift in her expression—small, precise, controlled. Her lips didn't move, but the story poured through the strings: pain dressed in elegance, rage disguised in harmony.
It wasn't long before the internet caught fire.
#@VelvetTea*: Wait… Bai Lanyue is doing a guzheng live now?#
#@LoverofStrings*: Is this a response to the Veiled Musician's last stream??#
#@GuZhengSoul*: Her technique is wild—completely different.#
$@NetizenZero*: This feels like a duel.#
#@LanYueNation*: She's telling a story. Look at her eyes. She's not playing for fun.#
Comments flooded in, but Bai Lanyue didn't flinch. She didn't need to respond with words. She spoke through the guzheng—and she was speaking directly to someone.
To the veiled musician.
Every movement of her hand was clean and certain. Her tempo shifted—slowing only to pick up again like a heartbeat remembering why it beats. Her fingers paused slightly before hammering out a fierce sequence of notes that surged into a powerful crescendo.
This wasn't just a performance. It was an act of reclamation.
Her emotions surged in rhythm, unspoken but fierce. It wasn't sorrow she played—it was strength forged in betrayal, disappointment, and quiet vengeance. The melody was confrontational but dignified, like someone knocking on a door they built themselves, daring the world to open it.
By the time the piece ended, the viewers were breathless.
Bai Lanyue sat still for a beat—her chest rising and falling quietly, a sheen of calm composure on her face. Then she bowed, precisely, briefly, and without another word, ended the livestream.
And that was all it took.
The internet unraveled into flames.
#@WhisperFeeds*: The music world isn't ready for this kind of drama.#
#@SungazeStudios*: Is this becoming a guzheng rivalry?#
#@BitterCherry*: Bai Lanyue's playing had teeth. This wasn't for applause. This was for a message.#
#@RealTalkNet*: Her sound said: "I know what you're hiding. And I'm not done."#
News outlets picked up the performance before the hour was out. Snippets of her playing flooded TikTok, Weibo, and Twitter. Threads broke down the composition and tone; music critics speculated on whether it was composed or improvised.
But more than anything—comparisons began.
Between her and the Veiled Musician.
Two women.
Two instruments.
Two truths.
Some said Bai Lanyue's playing lacked the subtle emotional vulnerability of the Veiled Musician. Others argued that Bai Lanyue's was richer, stronger, full of unspoken truths.
"She plays like she's lived through the fire," one tweet read. "The Veiled Musician plays like she's still burning."
Back at her apartment, Bai Lanyue stared at the muted screen, the empty chair in front of the now-quiet guzheng.
Shen Yichen sat nearby, watching her quietly. Wen Qing leaned against the counter, half-smiling.
"You know you just threw a gauntlet down, right?" Wen Qing said, her voice a teasing murmur. "There's no going back from this kind of performance."
Bai Lanyue didn't answer. She didn't need to. Her fingers still twitched slightly, as if the strings were still calling to her.
"She'll respond," Shen Yichen said, pouring himself a glass of wine. "That veiled ghost. She can't resist."
"And when she does?" Wen Qing tilted her head. "What's your next move?"
Bai Lanyue finally looked up. Her lips curled into a smile—not one of joy, but of quiet certainty.
"I'll play again," she said softly. "And this time… I'll rip the veil off."
Outside, the city hummed with life. But within the guzheng world, a storm was brewing—quiet, elegant, and furious.
And it had only just begun.