【Who says being smart and pretty means you must know how to play the piano? That’s moral coercion!】
【No, that’s called skill coercion—if you’re talented, then you must be good at everything.】
【OMG this is suffocating.】
【Who was it just now saying she was “cute”? Gross!】
【First time in my life that pink made me nauseous.】
【Pink’s not at fault—just got worn by a low-tier green tea schemer, that’s all.】
【Every time she says “oh~” “ah~” “yaa~”, my secondhand embarrassment hits the ceiling.】
【Is this… the legendary “cutesy girl persona”?】
【Don’t make me call Sister Yue over with her suona—y’all better line up for dinner right now.】
【He Yan is weird enough, and his niece is even weirder.】
【Where’d she get the guts to provoke Sister Yue?】
【……】
The livestream was flooded with criticism.
This generation of netizens was surprisingly civilized—they didn’t use much foul language, but their sarcasm hit harder than whips. And their constant witty jabs left the production crew wide-eyed and trying not to laugh out loud.
“This He Yan’s niece is just too…” the director started to say.
“Stupid,” the assistant director finished for him.
“She’s only got herself to blame. If she had just stayed cute and lowkey, maybe picked up a few fans along the way, she could’ve quietly benefited. But no—she had to try to build her persona by stepping on Jiang Fuyue. Did she even stop to consider the IQ gap between them?”
Does she think winning gold medals in academic competitions is that easy?
If Jiang Fuyue didn’t have real skills, there’s no way she’d have reached her current popularity.
“Then again, if she actually managed to make Jiang Fuyue lose face, she would be something,” the coordinator rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
The director shook his head, clearly not in agreement: “So what if she managed to embarrass Jiang Fuyue? Just because she caught her off-guard on piano skills? With her aggressive behavior, she’s just destroyed her own likeability. Not worth it.”
“You think netizens are as gullible and easy to manipulate as they were twenty or thirty years ago? After all these years online, anyone with half a brain has long grown a full one.”
“So… do you think Jiang Fuyue will take the bait and do a four-hand duet with her?”
The livestream audience was wondering the same thing—
【Wait, does Sister Yue even play the piano?】
【I know it’s not worth competing with someone like that, but I really wanna see Sister Yue go all out and stun the internet.】
【Exactly! We all grew up reading face-slapping novels—who doesn’t love a good scene where a jerk gets wrecked?】
【……】
When Jiang Fuyue saw He Xiaoke not only lift the piano lid but also prepare to touch the keys, she snapped—
“Stop!”
He Xiaoke froze, blinking wide eyes, her face brimming with hurt. “Sister….”
“I’m warning you—don’t touch it!”
He Xiaoke looked confused: “I didn’t mean anything bad. I just saw the piano here and wanted to try it out…”
Jiang Fuyue ignored her excuses. Her gaze fixed on the piano, showing a hint of tension: “Right now, stand up and step five paces back! Otherwise, don’t blame me for what happens.”
He Xiaoke’s look of grievance deepened, as if she might cry any second.
She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the nearby camera and smirked inside. So much for a genius girl—already showing her fangs on camera. Who needs a piano duel? Jiang Fuyue’s already lost in front of everyone.
“Sister, I thought we were friends… Can’t friends get along? If you have a problem, you can just talk to me, you don’t have to be so harsh, you balabala…”
She rambled on and still didn’t get up from the bench.
Jiang Fuyue was starting to get genuinely angry.
“I’ll say it one more time: stand up and leave!”
The girl shrank back like she was scared—and then… she actually started crying?
Two solid streams of tears flowed from her reddened eyes, trickling down her pink-white cheeks and dripping—splat—right onto the piano keys.
Jiang Fuyue’s expression completely changed.
She stepped forward and yanked the girl off the bench.
He Xiaoke was caught off guard, and if she hadn’t instinctively grabbed the nearby railing, she might’ve faceplanted.
“You… you pushed me?!” She stared in disbelief.
Jiang Fuyue ignored her and instead looked at the keys where the tears had fallen, her brows furrowing tightly.
“Sister, if you’re upset with me, you can just say it. But was it really necessary to get physical?”
More tears streamed down her face—your typical pitiful damsel in distress.
He Yan couldn’t stay quiet anymore. He stepped forward to shield his niece: “We can talk things out. There’s no need for violence.”
“Talk things out?” Jiang Fuyue abruptly looked up, her lips curling into a cold smirk. “That depends on whether someone can even understand human language.”
He Yan frowned. “Violence is never right.”
“So I should’ve just stood there and watched her ruin the piano? I told her three times not to touch it, to get up, to walk away. Did she listen?”
He Yan was at a loss for words.
Jiang Fuyue: “Or do you think it’s okay to touch someone else’s things without permission?”
“It’s just a piano. She only wanted to do a four-hand duet with you. Why make things so ugly?”
He Xiaoke also cried and said, “Yeah, Sister… I just wanted to make friends. You don’t have to accept it, but… you didn’t need to humiliate me! Over a piano?”
They even started playing the devoted uncle and niece act.
“Heh…” Jiang Fuyue let out a cold laugh, her eyes sharp. “You think this is just a piano?”
He Yan: “What else?”
He Xiaoke wiped her tears, her bright red nose silently broadcasting her suffering.
Jiang Fuyue stared at the two, then suddenly said, “This piano is called Constellation Scattered Across the Sky.”
He Yan: “?” Why bring that up all of a sudden?
He Xiaoke also looked puzzled.
“Half a century ago, Bono from U2 launched a global campaign to raise funds for fighting AIDS, TB, and malaria in Africa. Designers Jonathan Ive and Marc Newson collaborated to create this piano, a red Pop Steinway, and gave it that very name: Constellation Scattered Across the Sky.”
The two were still staring at her blankly.
Jiang Fuyue continued, her voice calm: “That same year, this piano debuted at an LD charity gala, where it helped raise $26 million. That night, a mysterious tycoon won it with a bid of $1.925 million.”
“Even ignoring the charity funds it raised, the piano’s inherent value was $1.925 million—about 13 million RMB. And that’s not accounting for half a century of appreciation. Now, your single tear has destroyed its collector’s value. So… how are you going to pay for it?”
He Xiaoke’s body jolted. Her eyes widened in shock. “Th-this piano… is worth thirteen million?!”
Jiang Fuyue picked up the auction certificate from beside the piano and handed it over. “The original sale price is listed right here.”
He Xiaoke’s hands trembled as she took it. When her eyes landed on the number, her face went ghostly white.
Cold sweat broke out across her forehead. She forgot to even keep crying.
He Yan, standing beside her, also got a clear look. His previously calm expression instantly collapsed.
“Pay up,” said Jiang Fuyue. Just two words—but their faces turned pale.
He Xiaoke quickly shoved the certificate back, as if not touching it meant she wasn’t responsible.
Then she ducked behind He Yan: “Uncle… what do we do?”
Her family wasn’t poor, but they definitely weren’t ultra-rich. Just solid upper-middle class. Sure, they could buy expensive clothes and thousand-yuan shoes, but coming up with 13 million yuan to pay for a collector’s piano? Even selling everything wouldn’t cover it!
So now, she could only rely on He Yan.
He was a celebrity, after all—a film emperor! Lived in a big house, drove a luxury car, definitely had money!
Besides, he was the one who brought her here, and even told her to ruin Jiang Fuyue’s reputation. Now that things had gone sideways, he should be the one to clean up the mess!
But He Yan was still stuck in shock over the price tag.
Thirteen million…
That was nearly two years’ worth of endorsement fees!
He came from a regular family, struggled through his twenties doing background roles, living paycheck to paycheck. It wasn’t until his forties that he finally hit it big. He was eager to make up for lost time and rake in the cash—but because of a terrible contract he signed early on, he still lost a huge cut to his agency.
Outwardly, he looked glamorous, always dressed in luxury brands on camera. But in truth, he only bought his first apartment last year.
Where the h*ll was he supposed to find 13 million yuan to patch this hole?
He didn’t say a word.
Jiang Fuyue suddenly found it all amusing. She even curled her lips slightly: “Why so quiet? When are you planning to pay? Surely you’ve got a plan?”
