Chapter 251
The video voice closely matched Alarieka’s current tone—proof she’d filmed it! The woman in the footage turned with a soft, resigned smile, her tone gentle: “Alright. Whatever you say.”
“Wait, wait, wait!”
Just as she prepared to play, a hand reached into frame. Most spectators mirrored the woman’s puzzled expression.
“I need to note the time and place first!”
The woman shook her head, chuckling indulgently. The voice cleared its throat. “Everyone! Before you stands Lindsey Weaver—a future world-renowned pianist!
Current local time: June 27th, 2021… uh… morning… ten… fifty-three! Lindsey Weaver will now perform her original piano composition: Yearning Sonata!”
“Please listen attentively to the maestro’s work!”
The voice dropped to a hurried whisper: “Start now!”
Accommodating, the woman smiled. Slender fingers touched the keys, releasing familiar melodies.
Truthfully, no one truly listened.
From the moment the voice identified the woman as Lindsey Weaver, shock had frozen the audience.
If Alaricka succeeded, Rose’s reputation would be utterly destroyed.
Rose clenched her fists, her smile stiffening.
Though she had a countermeasure, Alaricka’s thorough preparation still rattled her.
Her gaze shifted, landing on a corner of the stage. Slowly, her gaze hardened.
About thirty seconds into the video, the audience sat in stunned silence. Everyone could tell Lindsey was playing “Yearning Sonata” in the footage.
Rose’s fans shifted from initial scorn to disbelief, their expressions eventually freezing solid.
They fumbled for phones, trembling fingers hastily searching for the earliest release date of Rose’s “My Love.”
If Rose wasn’t Lindsey herself, then “Yearning Sonata” and “My Love” had to share a plagiaristic link.
The critical task now was determining which piano piece came first—and which stole from the other.
The video’s timestamp glowed clearly in the screen’s top-right corner.
All that remained was pinpointing the exact publication date of Rose’s “My Love.”
“Wait—look at the stage.”
A fan’s search was interrupted as someone nudged him.
His gaze snapped toward the platform, eyes narrowing abruptly.
Rose had slipped from the audience onto the stage unnoticed. Now she stood in the corner, body angled, intently watching the screen—watching the woman in the video.
Suddenly, the footage shifted to a clearer angle. Lindsey lifted her head toward the camera, smiling gently.
The audience quickly realized: not at the lens—she was smiling at whoever stood behind it.
The hall was so quiet that even without a microphone, Rose’s voice carried to the front rows.
“Lindsey… it’s been too long.”
Her tone was feather-soft, laced with nostalgia and regret—the kind reserved for long-lost companions.
Chapter 252