Facing this transcendental étude, the ponytailed girl’s violin skills had reached the pinnacle of mastery. The judges found not a single flaw—her execution was simply that flawless.

As a layperson, Mu Yao remained unimpressed. *How hard could such a slow piece be?* she thought. *It doesn’t even compare to Nangong Ruihui’s “Ave Maria” on opening day.*

But as the music unfolded, Mu Yao completely abandoned that initial thought.

The true essence of *Harmony of the Night* lay in its second half—a silent prelude erupting into the most intense, elevated musical confession. The climax was pure auditory bliss: layer upon layer surging forward, receding, then rising again. A cascade of emotions washed over the listener, making it impossible to look away.

The ending settled into an unexpectedly serene calm, as if returning to the opening stillness. Truly, an audio-visual feast!

“So beautiful~” Mu Yao murmured before hastily covering her mouth. She glanced at Nangong Ruihui beside her—but saw little reaction.

*Beautiful is beautiful. No denying it.* Even as a mere listener, Nangong Ruihui had to admit it. Her opponent had performed even better than last time. To lose to one’s own cowardice—that would be the true weakness.

Each judge held six points. After a minute’s discussion, the lowest score given was five—a historic thirty-two!

Now it was Nangong Ruihui’s turn. The violin in her hands was her mother’s gift on her twelfth birthday—not top-tier, but the last birthday present she’d ever receive. Years of intense practice had snapped its strings repeatedly, yet she’d never replaced it, only taking it to a luthier for repairs. It held too many memories.

“Ruihui, if you win, I’ll do anything you ask… so please~” Mu Yao gently grasped the little finger dangling by Nangong Ruihui’s pocket.

Another shot of motivation. Nangong Ruihui’s resolve sharpened. *Mu Yao said it herself… perfect chance to get back at her.*

She nodded, stepped onto the central platform, cradled the violin in her left hand, bow poised in her right—the classic stance.

The ponytailed girl watched leisurely from the sidelines, utterly relaxed. Last year, Nangong Ruihui hadn’t felt like a real threat. Victory had come easily. This time would be no different.

Coincidentally, Nangong Ruihui had also chosen a violin arrangement of a Liszt piano piece: *Chasing Snow*, even more demanding. She’d trimmed sections ill-suited for violin, focusing her soulful artistry on the chorus. Piano was her true forte—adapting piano works? Her specialty.

Before playing, she glanced once more at Mu Yao, knees pressed together, eyes bright with anticipation. A bittersweet warmth stirred in her chest. *Somehow… I feel we’re bound for life.*

True to its name, *Chasing Snow* painted an ethereal dreamscape. As Nangong Ruihui played, vibrato and bowing intertwined, elevating the piece to breathtaking perfection.

No chill—only the joy of chasing snowflakes, a hollow yet boundless passion, sorrowful longing, and quiet hope for tomorrow.

When the final note faded, Mu Yao applauded. Objectively? At least equal to the ponytailed girl’s. But judgment belonged to the experts.

The judges huddled long. The youngest insisted: “Give her all sixes! I’ve never heard a more perfect violin performance.”

“Students of Yingshengya Academy truly shine,” he added. “If you can name *one* flawed second, I’ll gladly give zero.”

“Well…” The others fell silent.

Thirty-five points. The missing point? A gentle nudge—lest pride become her cage.

The competition ended. The ponytailed girl stormed off, outplayed. Nangong Ruihui stood victorious.

“Hello, Nangong Ruihui. I’m Keda, a violinist. Your talent is exceptional. Would you consider studying under me?” The passionate young judge approached after the crowd dispersed.

“I-I know you! Teacher Ke—the youngest internationally acclaimed violinist! I wondered why someone like you’d judge a city contest…”

To Mu Yao’s surprise, Nangong Ruihui looked genuinely flustered. *He really is that famous.*

“Hahaha, rare occasion. Usually I only judge national or international events. Call it fate. Interested?”

“But… I have a teacher already…”

“No conflict. Think of me as an honorary mentor. He’ll understand. Here’s my card.”

“Okay… I’ll ask him~” Nangong Ruihui accepted it. Keda was her idol.

(Not arrogance—he *was* among the nation’s few violinists with global standing. Some teachers had trained under him.)

“Then it’s settled.”

…

“Yaoyao. I won.”

Nangong Ruihui beamed. Her opponent lost to a plateau—foolishly thinking one seven-star piece made her invincible. *There’s always someone stronger. Always.*

“Mhm! I watched the whole time—you were amazing!!” Mu Yao instantly transformed into a starry-eyed fangirl.

“That reward you promised…” Nangong Ruihui leaned in.

Mu Yao’s reaction stunned her—*Why is she more excited than me?!*

*Mwah~*

A hesitant peck on the cheek. Warm. Real. *She… kissed me?!*

Nangong Ruihui stumbled back. “I didn’t tell you to kiss me, you jerk! What were you thinking?!”

“Ah… you didn’t like it? Sorry…” Mu Yao’s eyes softened. “Then… what *do* you want me to do?”

“Hmph. Our maid quit. Work for me this Saturday. I’ll pay full wage.”

*‘Just wait, little brat—I’ll get you good this time~’* Nangong Ruihui smirked inwardly.

*‘Once she learns I’m a guy… kissed by a boy? Hahaha~’* Mu Yao gloated silently.

And so, the two performed their “surface relationship” to perfection.