The guests were taken aback as well. They knew Jade had few apprentices, each already well-known, yet M''s face was unfamiliar and youthful.


    What was more striking was Jade referring to this particr apprentice as a prodigy-a first in her career.


    Jade smiled gently. "She''s my very first student. She''s been honing her skills in solitude for years, and now it''s time for her to step into the world."


    M had been with Jade from a very young age, personally groomed by her mentor. It was no exaggeration to call her Jade''s final disciple.


    Upon learning M''s full name, the guests grew even more surprised.


    Suthend, just like Jade.


    Though questions lingered, no one dared to pry. Jade had always imed to be an orphan, true or not, she was tight-lipped about her lineage.


    The guests were savvy enough to avoid stirring any difort. They understood it was best to keep such matters to themselves.


    Throughout the conversations in the private room, M stood quietly by Jade''s side, observing but contributing little. Her aunt had brought her here to familiarize herself with the faces; eventually, M knew she''d have to prove herself through her work.


    As the chatter slowly dwindled, an enveloping silence filled the room.


    The lights dimmedpletely.


    This event was a musical g, a celebration within the art world.


    Performing tonight were renowned musicians alongside neers eager to make their mark.


    M, being an artist herself, found the scene intriguing. She moved closer to the window to get a better view of the darkened stage below.


    A brilliant spotlight illuminated the center of the stage, where a tform began its


    ascent.


    A gentle chime rang out, followed by the resonant sound of strings.


    Though not a music expert, M recognized the melody as a harp ying "ir de Lune."


    As the stage rose, M was about to close her eyes to savor the music when she recognized the figure in the spotlight, strumming the harp''s strings. She froze in disbelief.


    It was Giselle.


    What was she doing performing at this g? Wasn''t she a doctoral schr in business?


    M watched intently.


    Giselle sat gracefully by the grand harp, her foot pressing the pedal, producing a hauntingly beautiful sound.


    She wore an exquisite white gown adorned with precious jewels and a sheer, jewel-studded veil cape. Her dress was embroidered with vibrant roses spreading like a garden upon the floor.


    The spotlight cast a dazzling glow, making Giselle appear ethereal, as if she were a celestial being surrounded by moonlight and roses, her music haunting and pure.


    M took in the breathtaking scene, the masterful harp music filling the air, undeniably impressive and beautiful.


    As she mused, she noticed movement in the adjacent window.


    Turning her gaze, she saw Lysander standing there, fixated on Giselle''s radiant performance, his eyes filled with rapt admiration.


    M''s expression remained unchanged.


    She quietly stepped back, intending to sit on a wooden chair further from the window to watch, but then she froze again.


    Her aunt sat in that chair, her gaze locked onto Giselle, her face a storm of emotions, hands clenched tightly on the armrests.


    Seeing Jade''s distress, M hurried over, concern in her voice. "Aunt, what''s wrong?"