Just as discussions appeared amid the barrage of comments, as the host exited the stage, it suddenly plunged into darkness.
The audience in the auditorium quieted down, once again showing their courtesy with a round of applause.
As the applause gradually tapered off, suddenly, a beam of light descended from the ceiling, casting slantingly on the stage.
In the center of the halo, a piano appeared, along with... a tall silhouette quietly standing beside it.
Her smooth long hair draped over one white shoulder, as she slightly lowered her head, revealing a face so beautiful it could take one’s breath away.
A gentle jawline, a high nose bridge, rare heavy makeup clinging to those cold features, intertwined with light and shadow like a world-renowned painting frozen in time.
The half-body evening dress should carry a sensual allure, yet, when worn by her, it complements that unrealistically fair skin, carrying an inexplicable sense of sacredness that brooks no profanation.
(Reference photo — Jiang Mo on stage)
Upon seeing this girl appear, everyone in their confusion finally understood the significance of the "Moonlight" theme.
At this moment on the dark stage, she appeared to be the moonlight illuminating everything, cold and solitary, blossoming alone in inaccessible places.
Her beauty wasn’t dazzling, it was
At this moment, major platform live-stream comment sections showed an inexplicable blankness.
It was only a few seconds later, as comments with amazement flooded the screen like locusts passing through.
"Oh my, so beautiful, I’m dying!"
"Is ’talented woman’ enough to describe her? I feel deceived..."
"Whoa!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... in a hurry, what if no one’s cultured? I want to say something, but can’t say anything!"
"A beauty from the north, peerless and standing alone."
"Her allure is like peach blossoms, her chill like frost!"
"Not enough, not enough, the one above, wait for me to bring my cousin to perform a few lines for you..."
"I observe this lady: brows like emerald feathers, skin like Bai Xue, teeth like white shells, lips like red begonias, hands like delicate buds, skin like creamy fat, neck like a caterpillar, teeth like graved horn... Brother, that’s me alright!"
With the help of "cultured" people, a flood of poetry brimming with ancient wisdom and cultural richness began to overflow the screens.
Zhou Wang didn’t know what was happening across major live-stream platforms, but just from the on-site atmosphere, he already sensed something.
Not to mention others, even Zhou Wang himself was in a trance-like state at this moment.
He and his senior hadn’t met for almost two weeks now.
For some reason, it seemed as though every time he saw Jiang Mo recently, he would feel an entirely new sensation...
She was becoming more beautiful, so beautiful that he didn’t dare to recognize her.
Is this really the senior he knew?
It wasn’t until the lights came on, when Jiang Mo took her seat at the piano amidst everyone’s gaze, beginning her performance, that Zhou Wang abruptly snapped back to reality.
"Young man, were you stunned?"
Beside him, Mr. Liu took everything in with his eyes, chuckled heartily, then nodded understandingly.
"But indeed, this girl is quite nice, she has a certain charm... Hmm, I don’t care for those on television, but this young lady truly has a bit of that ’Little Dragon Girl’ flavor described by Mr. Jin Yong."
For those of Mr. Liu’s generation, this already marked extremely high praise, and Zhou Wang heard it with immense pride.
He immediately pointed at Jiang Mo on the stage, grinning at Mr. Liu: "Mr. Liu, can you guess who she is?"
"Who is she?"
"My wife!"
Zhou Wang puffed out his chest, speaking proudly.
Upon hearing this, Mr. Liu was momentarily startled, then chuckled softly, remaining silent.
"?"
This familiar scene seemed to have happened just a short while ago, and Zhou Wang’s smile instantly became stiff.
Meanwhile, in his heart, Mr. Liu was shaking his head quietly.
"Ah, this Zhou Wang, everything about this lad is good, except he’s too darn full of hot air!"