The villa glowed under brilliant lights, its Western architecture elegant and imposing. Beyond the walls, hired security guards patrolled steadily.

Beneath the tranquil night and luminous moonlight, faint music drifted like a gentle stream—if you listened closely—washing softly over the ears and heart.

On the villa’s third floor, inside the practice room bathed in moon-white light, a girl in a ballet outfit sat gracefully before a grand piano. Before her lay stark black-and-white keys and an open sheet of music. Her jade-like fingers danced across the keys, weaving one delicate note after another.

Her expression revealed nothing—utterly absorbed in practice. As she turned a page, her chest rose and fell slightly, tracing an alluring curve no boy could ignore. Beneath the lace hem of her outfit, long slender legs sheathed in white stockings pressed tightly together without the slightest gap, tilted in a ladylike pose.

Her fingers moved like nimble sprites; merely watching was a quiet delight, let alone hearing the melody flow from such exquisite hands.

As the final note faded, the guard leaning against the wall—lost in the music—slowly opened his eyes. Rapture still lingered on his face as he resumed his quiet patrol beneath the peaceful night.

For him, hearing the young mistress’s nightly piano practice was the day’s sweetest reward.

Indeed, she was the household’s young mistress: Jiang Yueyan. True to her name—"Yue," a legendary gem—her beauty rivaled any jewel on earth.

After politely bidding farewell to her ballet instructor, she’d come straight to the music room for routine practice—hence the ballet outfit still on.

Alone in the room, Jiang Yueyan had sent a message to a younger male schoolmate she’d met a few times. Then, heart fluttering, she recalled it instantly and launched into playing—guiltily—hitting a few wrong notes at the start.

But she quickly steadied herself. Every note afterward was flawless. By the piece’s end, her restless heart had calmed once more.

She rose, walked to the cabinet, and lifted her phone. Fingerprint unlocked, the screen showed only silence—clean, empty.

Of course. She’d recalled it too fast. He couldn’t have seen it.

To her quiet embarrassment, among her few QQ contacts, he was the only boy. How many times had she stared blankly at his profile—featuring an anime male protagonist?

Her heart, long undisturbed, now churned with hidden currents whenever he crossed her mind—a feeling she couldn’t name.

Was it because of their meeting that day? He’d seemed handsome, talkative, confidently charming. Most importantly, he hadn’t treated her like some untouchable goddess.

Lately, though, Jiang Yueyan sensed he was avoiding her. Once, when she greeted him first, his reply was lukewarm.

Did he feel he’d lost face? It wasn’t his fault—the school’s last-minute candidate switch was pure accident. At the thought, Jiang Yueyan pouted slightly, a rare, unguarded moment.

Had Ye Huaixian been there, he’d have been stunned: the senior’s pout mirrored Xiao Xian’s exactly.

No wonder they were mother and daughter.

Yet… Jiang Yueyan never let such tiny expressions show.

Just as she never revealed the feelings hidden deep within.

That recalled message.

In her heart, she hoped—shyly, fervently—that Ye Huaixian had seen it.